A Book and a Friend

I went there to escape from a big city turmoil, to breathe fresh air and to look after my friends' garden whose house it was while they were away in town and, above all, to enjoy the nature as much as possible. But, the weather was too wet for this last intention of mine. All I could do about it was to sit in the garden where my friends made it possible by covering the garden seats with a nice woodden roof all enveloped in climbing green plants and to listen the rain falling and watch the lovely scenery blooming and blossoming in the spring time.

This was enough for a few days, but after awhile I got bored like hell.

'Oh, why haven't I brought any book with me?' I thought and then remembered that a few kilometers away there I knew some people with a big home library filled with the books that they never read, it was inherited and it served only as a decoration.

I took my umbrella and went to them. After sellecting a book and after thanking them and them thanking me for bringing life into their library by reading its books, I went back to my place, set under the garden's green roof and started to read.

It was a book about some happy people who were living their lives with the enjoyment and pleasures at their fulles.

'He was a poet...' said the sentence in the book.

'Hellooo, there!!! What are you doing here?' I heard a voice from behind the garden gate.

I turned and looked. There he was. A beautiful man whom I had known from the city. He was laghing looking very pleased to see me.

I jumped from my seat and went to greet him.

'I am visiting some friends, this is their house,' I said laughing and being very pleased to see him, too. 'What are YOU doing here?' I asked.

'I have a house here. Look, this is it on the top of the hill.' He said pointing to a nearby hill. And I saw a roof of a house peeping through the forest branches on the hill.

After that encounter, my days in that wilderness were very amusing and pleasant. It turned that my friend was alone and bored just like me, so we spent some lovely days together.

Well... now I think. The book was not right about his profession, but as for pleasure and entertainment - it was.