Monotony

The life could not be better and the heart of it finally was in peace. They had had children, they passed for crises, they had won great challenges and they had prospered joined for the love supported that them. But passing of the days, the routine, the monotony of always if making to the same involved them things as an invisible mantle and has led. Without they gave account, both had finished if accomodating, if collecting; still they were loved, if they respected, but they did not verbalizavam more, did not demonstrate more and the relationship if it became warm, something without favour, flavor. It still prepared its favourite meals, took care of of the things of it, if she worried about it. But it closed itself, did not see more necessity to demonstrate its affection, its affection, even so still he kneads it with all its forces and knew that it still was optimum gift that receives in all its life.

The children if had been, each one followed its way and had been only the two. The house was very quiet and great. Exactly thus, still it remained silence between the two. But it never complained. It never complained. One day, it had that to leave, they needed an angel in the sky and it was the only one that filled all the requirements. Now the house was much more of what empty: it was without life.

Seating in the old rocking chair, it suddenly he fell in itself and it perceived as it are fool, as he loses as much accomodated time being in its zone of comfort, in happy its mundinho. He did not obtain to remember the last time that had said it loved that it. Not if it remembered the last time that had said it was pretty and that its eyes illuminated its life as a lighthouse in the sea and that the smile of it made any sacrifice to be valid the penalty.

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