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“All rifts, yes rifts – Send them to the address! I don’t have a map for this place, – I am sailing ahead along the outline. ”
And at last hooligan couplets were sung: “The maiden stood like a star.
She has a wide.

nature And a very thin figure, And this, brothers, beauty.
The butterfly style on the water surface shows us two.
maidens
They, as if queens, Records beat not money for the sake of “.
The hike is over, its members are back home, summer is over.
But for all my life I remember the river, the rocks, the sex and the songs.
“All rifts, yes rifts.

So her name was Malvina.
Thanks to parents.
And she really had blue hair.
But this is already thanks to him, Ivan Abramych.
Ivan Abramych did not think that this would happen.
He came to the party that his new neighbors, the Mironenki, had arranged.
Was in shock, joking.
And Malva said to Mironenko, a fair-haired, unbearably tender and rosy girl who stared at him all evening: – What kind of Malvina are you?

Where are the blue hair? BUT? It is said after all – “a girl with blue hair.
Malwa flushed, turned pale, shook his mane and sped off to the kitchen.
She was hell knows how old – such ripe as peaches, girls are always without age, even though they are sixteen, at least twenty-three.
Ivan Abramych took an interest once, but Malva screamed with a bass – “ninety-nine and half eeeena!” – she made a face and laughed like a hyena.
With her body, she pulled for twenty with a hook, her face — for school graduation, and even less with her behavior, somewhere between kindergarten and the first months.
Literally in a couple of days, Ivan Abramych could not believe his eyes: around Malvinov, the peach face flickered like an aura, a blue head of hair, shimmering with all shades of the deep sea. ip webcam audio
– And so? – Malva stood in front of him in the “model” position.
– That’s right? “Well, you give,” said Ivan Ivanovich, when he could speak.

A thick, deep blue color was shaded by aquamarine and greenish strands around the edges.
It all played and shone like the morning wave.
Ivan Abramych, to put it mildly, did not approve of such experiments, but he could not but admit that Malva, already pretty, had become something of a fairy or some other fairy tale nonsense.
Of course, he did not give a mean and expressed, as it should be for an adult uncle: “is it washed off? not? you had such hair, malva.
“Of course, she got hurt and ran away; of course, he felt like a fool, and this time he even knew why.
So Malvina became a real girl with blue hair.
Soon it began to seem to everyone that they were growing blue with her, by nature, especially since their color had exactly matched her blue eyes, like the sea.
Time passed and everyone got used to the blue head, and it was strange to think that it could be of a different color.

He spoiled all his pants, and had to arrange an unscheduled wash.
“But what is this,” Ivan Abramitch sawed himself, “the yellow-headed man, after all, is a miracle-yudo, bows instead of brains.
Come to your senses, old man. ”As if it were a sin, Malva desperately climbed toward him.
So much so that even he could not help but notice.
She was always confused under his feet, looking for reasons to visit, and when she did not find it, she simply rang the doorbell.
Ivan Abramych opened, and she stood, silently looking at the floor.
– Well, Malva? – he asked his usual stupid question.
Malva either remained silent, sighed, or ran away to her.
Ivan Abramych, who hid his dreams in a deep cache, did not allow anything serious on her part.
A “transitional age,” he thought, squinting at the two puffy balls protruding from Malvin’s body.
She was not supposed to have such a chest, but she had it, and it was a fact embarrassing all who saw her.

After a week, the Malvina attacks suddenly ceased.
Several times, Ivan Abramych saw her kissing a picture of a dark-haired boy.
He had a long nose on purpose.
“Well, it all happened,” thought Ivan Abramitch, “Malvina and Pinocchio.”
He was tempted to tell her about it, and he could barely restrain himself.
Once, when he had already lost the habit of her visits, Malva rang the bell at his door again.
– You can go? She asked.
It was a clear progress: she had always been silent before.
– Come in, of course.
Ivan Abramitch stepped aside.
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