From the very beginning he used it.

Hard, rude, ruthless.

While she was writhing in convulsions of happiness from belonging to him, he wiped his feet on her. At the same time, he cleverly masks his boundless egoism with gentle words, assertions of pure and sincere love and adoration.

She was blind, but she wanted to be blind.

He, at least briefly, tore her out of the cage of her own worthless and boring life. Next to him, she became meaningful, weighty and necessary.

At least so. At least as a floorcloth, about which he wiped his feet with pleasure.

At least as a cesspool in which he poured all his lust.

Her soul sang from the recognition of its importance to him.

And his grin, seeing her joy.

Probably, they both deserve all that was erected by them two: it is a jumble of passion mixed with deception and self-deception.

They both created that vicious circle, from which neither one nor the other had enough strength to escape.

They both died in a mutual fire, pulling out pieces of flesh from themselves and feeding on them, exhausting and exhausting themselves.

At first, unconsciously, even receiving from this strange masochism an equally strange pleasure. And then, realizing the horror of the situation.

But even worse, both of them understood that they could not change anything.

They fell into a vicious circle, in a trivial cell.

One of that string of cells in which each of us sits throughout his life.

Where the cage of a helpless baby with its small size is replaced by the cells of a kindergarten and school, children, and then youthful environment.

A little more time and we have spacious cells with the names of the house friends - work.

And here is another love outside your cage.

Will any of them ever have enough of breaking the ropes of the habits that bind them?