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Chat Sex Free - http://en.pronsex.club/lesbian. Watching too much television, re-reading old books, quarrelling with my parents, summer was very quickly getting on my nerves. It's been more than six years since I left this place; first to Europe www.yopougon.ci and onwards from there. I've done the tours of bars and pubs, looking for forgotten friends, and occasionally running into old acquaintances. Often they turned out to be even more boring than I remembered them, which was probably why I didn't bother to keep in touch in the first place.
It felt small and suffocating. Most of my friends already left this town and moved to the more exciting city by the sea, the few who remained were busy with work and their rather boring life. It is sad to return home and find and only the losers stayed. I hate summers like this, being stuck in a country which is no longer mine, and being faced with childhood memories dismal reality. Behind every corner I turned, a nasty surprise awaited me, a closed down shop, an ugly fa?ade, a chopped down tree; nothing remained.
I was taking afternoon walks in my old neighbourhood, looking out for familiar places, seeing how new, ugly looking buildings are taking over and how new, posh looking people push make the place feel phoney. I walked around the next corner and found myself face to face with my childhood love. Wow, I said, what a surprise, I didn't expect to see you here at all, how are you? I was losing faith like a cracked bottle, waking up to my grim late twenties.
answered Lily, who looked almost shocked to discover me there. Well, I can't complain, I was the first to leave. Visitor confronts the good and bad changes. Very well, I'm the one surprised, aren't you meant to be in Paris? I'm only here of a couple of months' vacation. I live in Tel-Aviv now, but I was seeing my parents for the weekend, and I'm going back this afternoon. Well, yeah, I do live in Paris now. Two months in my home town in the middle of summer, what a bore.
I wanted to take a stroll down memory lane and found myself in stuck in a nasty present. We sat in a new place, actually rather nice, where a baker used to be. It's been quite a few years since we haven't met, and more than a decade since we used to be a couple, a lot changed since. Should we have a coffee quickly before I have to go? But aren't you meant to be in Tel-Aviv? We walked through the alleys, to her parents' house; it was a hot afternoon, and the air was heavy.
Oh, I said, I'll walk you home; just saying this made me laugh inside, it felt very adolescent. This neighbourhood seems uglier every time I visit, she said, as if she could read my mind. In the entrance to her house a big yellow motorbike was parked, a Yamaha or Mitsubishi or something. We exchanged civilities about our parents, who still lived a few streets one from the other, about sisters, brothers and kin; but by the time we started to talk about more serious stuff, she looked at her watch and said she had to go.
We've both grown, graduated, moved out, became adults and all of that; but she still looked a lot like when she was younger, short and pretty, but far not so elfish now. Yes, I agreed, breathing in the heat and some jasmine smell. No, she replied, its mine. What are you doing in the old neighbourhood? Is this your boyfriend's? Do you have some time now? She smiled, and let the remark ride. Do you have any thoughts of coming down to the big city?
Well actually I have to be there in a couple of weeks, one of my cousins is getting married. I asked, not really sure why.