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Life is too short for boring stories

Carefully, he wriggled away from her embrace so as not to wake her. But his concern was unfounded. She curled up like a little kitten. She looked like an angel when she lay there in the lace-trimmed white nightgown he had given her. „Just because you do not have anything decent,“ he had not forgotten to say when he handed it over to her, and if he drove away with her over the weekend, then her sight should also delight his eye. With that, he stifled every possibility immediately in the bud, that she could misunderstand his gift. Women tend to. He knew that from his own painful experience. As soon as you give them your little finger, they devour you with skin and hair, even the vegans. That’s why he had gotten used to pouring them pure wine straight away on his true motives. But he had to admit it was excellent. For a moment he lost himself in her sight, when he finally remembered that he had something to do.

She had mentioned the night before that she was in the mood for ice cream, unbridled lust, but they had chatted for so long that there was no point in trying to find an ice cream, but now that she was sleeping soundly, he wanted to get one for her, a vegan one. She did not need to know that. If he came back, with an ice cream in his hand, he would tell her he was in the mood for a walk he did, and by coincidence he would have just passed the ice cream shop just around the corner, where he got vegan ice surprisingly, and when he was there, he had just as well taken one. So, he got it right as he walked through the streets. It was a pleasant morning that promised a similar day, but he did not have an eye for it, because he did not find vegan ice cream. Maybe it was also a bad time of day, but if he was up to something, then he did that, come what may. Many streets further he slowly began to reconsider his attachment. Normally, and in front of others, he would have called this a consequence, but ultimately it was only stubbornness. At last the saving idea came to him. He turned into the nearest supermarket and actually found vegan ice cream in the refrigerated display case. That was not exactly what he had imagined, but she would still appreciate it. And he would repeat it again, that it happened rather by the way, and she just did not fancy it. Really nothing.

Again and again he sharpened this until he finally arrived back at the hotel. The ice in his hands was still intact, as he made sure. Satisfied, he looked up again and almost froze himself to ice. Just then he could watch a big, broad-shouldered man turn the corner, a lifeless thing on his arms, wearing a nightgown the way he had given it to her. That could only be her. And he had to watch her being carried away by a stranger while he bought the vegan ice cream unnecessarily. He could not put up with that. Was also expensive enough. Therefore, he embraced the iced handles and started the pursuit. Time was pressing. The sun was gaining more and more power, and the ice in his hands was only too transient under these circumstances. No man likes that, that nothing is stolen from his bed so you nothing to me nothing. This is unsportsmanlike. Finally, the kidnapper stopped and put her down, apparently to unlock the door to a dungeon. He saw his chance come. Carefully, he put down the ice and gave the abductor a firm kick when he had just opened the door so that he fell in, headfirst. He quickly closed and locked the door behind him. By now she had come to herself. He straightened her up on the bench and shook the ice in her hand, beaming with joy. Lucky it was still safe.

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