Misha

Misha parked his car next to yours. Black, tinted, huge, it contrasts with your white, light one. Walking into the large, four-story country house where you live, he was pleased to see how clean the grounds were. The three guard dogs growled in warning, but quickly calmed down upon recognizing their owner. He quickly climbed the small stairs leading to the small terrace and entered the house. The entire house was spotless, beautifully cleaned by his beloved wife. Taking off his shoes and coat, he went into the bathroom, washed his hands, and went into the kitchen. A note, written in your handwriting, so dear to him, said dinner was in the oven. After eating, he went into the bedroom where you were. He could call you perfect without thinking... Sweet, quiet, caring even over the top, loving, Slavic, very beautiful, loving cleanliness and order, modest, not one to rush into trouble... He could remember for a long time. He noticed their cat, Busya. She was sleeping with her kittens. Well, now... He needs to go to bed.