That summer, I moved in with my husband.
Naturally, a scandal ensued.
As reported: Fakta.today
My mother screamed at me, calling me a prostitute.
"It's strange," I thought to myself as I packed my suitcase. "I thought she wanted grandchildren."
My mother kicked the suitcase, even though it wasn't her fault.
I was 22, and it was time for me to spread my wings.
I felt sorry for my mother, but it was my dream to live apart from her.
So I moved out.
My mother didn't have anyone to provide for her and take care of her.
She resented me for that. She tried to replace me with the neighbors. Mom began to fall ill. Manipulation with her health and loneliness. I was easily manipulated.
My rosy family life was overshadowed by my mother's suicidal moods, her abandoned pipes, and the scent of Valocordin in the hallway.
I decided that my mother needed a new object of love that would "soothe her nerves" as I had before betraying her. That is, before I got married.
"Tomorrow we'll go to the market and buy a kitten for Mom," I announced to my husband.
In the morning, before the Saturday rush, we went to the market, where you could buy domestic pets at that time.
As soon as we reached the entrance of the large covered pavilion, which smelled of manure and resounded with a multitude of animal sounds, my head started spinning.
At first, I thought it was hunger. At that time, I was fashionably skinny and had to drink kefir instead of eating.
But after a few minutes, I realized that something else was making my head spin. It was the concentration of pleas and loneliness.
The animals for sale were right here in boxes, meowing and barking, chirping and whimpering, begging for mercy, for comfort, for protection, for love.
I knew nothing about cats or their breeds.
I wanted a typical kitten: with beautiful long fur, pointed ears, a bushy tail, speckled, and sphinx-like.
You couldn't do that, could you?
My head was spinning unbearably.
I wanted to fling all the doors wide open, shout "Hands up!" to the vendors, and scream at the animals, "Run, I'll set you free!" But I didn't.
Dejectedly, I walked along the line, and the animals for sale saw me as condemned to doom.
"Let's get out of here," I told my husband.
"Without a cat?" he pondered.
"Well, let's get this one," I pointed to the first kitten I saw.
"How much does it cost?" I asked the vendor.
"7500."
I looked at my husband.
Both of us, former students, were just starting our careers.
Our salaries were enough for food, utilities, and going to the movies twice a month without popcorn.
7500 was the price of my future down jacket for winter.
We had been saving up for it.
If you buy a cat, what will you wear in winter?
"Let's take it," I suddenly said firmly, surprising myself and my husband.
"It's expensive," protested my husband.
"No need to save on love!" I exclaimed indignantly.
"Love is free," my husband retorted. "You can love stray kittens just as much as Bengals."
"Yes," the vendor said. "And it also has a pedigree!"
"Yes," I said. "And it still has a pedigree!"
"And who would know?" my husband teased.
It ended abruptly, they got married.
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