Music of Life

"It must have been a hard day," she whispered to herself. She hurried to bring him food before he fell asleep in his military uniform.

"This man the child, how I worship him!"

Last night she could not sleep for the cold of her bed, and her whole life. She did not feel warm, despite the heat of her tears for fear of losing him.

When he hit it with the threads of the first dawn, he threw his head over her chest. He stopped a little after telling her how he spent his day in hell, following a clash with a terrorist group and the martyrdom of some of his comrades.

I looked at him tenderly, barely pushing him to sleep in his bed. She put her fingers in the tail of his silver hair:

Habibi, wake up and adjust the position of your sleep. You groan.

What is my lover ?! You've been upset and you could not sleep, did not you ...?

Never darling, I'm harassing for you. You must be tired. Come and grow on my chest.

She joined him and began to sing to him. And it was only seconds before he returned to his bounty.

I kissed him with his eyes, and his music seemed to come from the land of the Greeks. She returned to college days. She remembered a snore friend, and a harsh night cried from sleepiness and exhaustion.

You see, she did not escape the whole earth that college night, while not wanting to get away from her bed now ?!

This music has been addicted since the first months of their marriage, and missing it on the nights you spend alone.

But is addicted and missing everything in it: his silence, his walk, his fast way to eat,

His quiet anger, his parental love. Everything is part of it. It is all.

I woke him up again.

What, I'm still drinking, my love ?!

Yes, but that's not what I wanted to say.

What then, my little one?

I forgot myself when I saw you tired and did not tell you.

He interrupted her half asleep: Tell me what ?!

She replied enthusiastically:

It seems to me that you will become a father soon.

She did not feel herself unless he flew into the air between his arms.

Are you pregnant? Oh God, thank you. I will become a father, and you will be the most beautiful mother.

The soldier from Death Square forgot all the fatigue and pain, and felt he would be born with the next child.

Her collar with a rapturous tenderness felt that she was the expected child, not the mother.

Include it with caution. Then he whispered: Will he write me to see this child?

He cleared the fear of his eyes so that he would not see his beloved, who had sat on his chest for an hour or more, awakening her to sleep well.

He was watching her lovingly, listening to her snoring music