#心晴计划 #
Julie is 40 years old, but her feelings are very rich, and she runs a small bakery on the corner of the pedestrian street.
Although she is 40 years old, she also has tens of thousands of deposits in the bank passbook, two dentures and an emotional heart. Many married people do not have such superior conditions as her.
A customer came to her shop to buy bread at a fixed time of the week, and two or three times she became interested in him. He was a middle-aged man with glasses and a neatly trimmed beard. But his dress was a little worn, and some places had been patched up, although it was such an image, he was very polite and looked clean and tidy.
He always bought two loaves of bread that were about to expire. Fresh bread for 3 bucks a piece, old bread 3 bucks for 2 bucks. He never asked for anything else, just bread that was about to expire. Julie was very interested in him.
Once, when the man came again, Julie saw a little reddish-brown oil stain on his clothes, and she guessed that he must be a painter, and that he was a painter without money. He must have been painting and nibbling on bread, thinking about the other delicious things in the bakery. Julie guessed...
Julie thought she was such an interesting person, so she always had pictures of him in her mind. Whenever Julie sat down eating steaks, rolls and jams and drinking tea, she would sigh and hope that the gentle artist would share this delicious food with her, rather than just eating bread that was about to expire.
One day, to confirm speculation about his profession, she took out of the house a cheaply bought oil painting and placed it on the shelf on the counter.
It is a Venetian landscape painting. A splendid marble palace occupies the main picture, which can also be said to stand in front of the picture in the water. There are also several flat-bottomed boats, floating clouds and blue skies, and plenty of contrasts between light and shade. The painter would not fail to notice the painting.
Two days later, the customer arrived.
"Please give me two loaves of bread."
"Your painting is not bad, ." Marjorie said as she loaded him with bread.
"Is it?" Julie was secretly happy in her heart, and her guess was not wrong. Then she pretended not to know how to ask, "Do you say this painting is good?" ”
"The palace," said the customer, "is not well drawn, and the proportions of the parts of the drawing are not correct. Goodbye, hostess. ”
He picked up the bread and hurried away.
Yes, he must have been a painter. Julie has confirmed
Behind his glasses flashed those gentle and friendly eyes! What a wide forehead! However, geniuses often have a process of struggle before they are discovered. Julie's heart couldn't hold back again, and she wanted to get to know him quickly.
Every time he came, Julie drew a closer relationship consciously or unconsciously, and both of them were very happy.
He went on to buy old bread, never to buy cakes and pies, never to buy her delicious hot refreshments.
She felt him emaciated and depressed. She was tempted to add something tasty to the tiny food he had bought, but didn't have the courage to do so. She was afraid of making him angry. She understands the self-esteem of painters.
She began to put on a blue-dot silk vest and stood behind the counter. In the Chamber of Secrets, she cooks a mysterious compound of quince seeds and borax. Many people have been using it to emollient and smooth muscles.
One day, he came to the bakery as usual, and when Julie was taking the bread, the children on the street suddenly started to fight, and then the curiosity of many people was attracted.
At this time, Julie had a clever move and seized this opportunity. Pick up a bread knife, cut each loaf of bread into a slit, stuff a lot of beef = cream, and press the bread tightly.
As the painter turned back, she was wrapping bread in paper.
They chatted particularly happily for a while, and when he was gone, she laughed secretly, but her heart was a little uneasy. It's like the mind of a little couple is afraid of being discovered.
Is she too abrupt? Will he be angry? Of course not. Eat people's mouth soft.
That day she was always thinking about this in her heart, imagining the scene when he found out about the little deception.
He would put down his brush and the drawing board. On the easel there will be an oil painting he is painting. The proportions of the parts are evenly proportioned. Beyond reproach.
He would prepare lunch — bread and water. He would cut open the bread —ah!
Julie blushed at the thought of it. When he ate, would he think of the hand that put the cream in the bread? He will...
The doorbell rang in a chaotic manner. Someone was walking in, noisy.
Julie hurried to the front. There stood two men. One was a young man with a pipe—she had never seen him. The other is her painter.
His face was flushed, his hat slid down to the back of his head, his hair disheveled, and he clenched his two fists and swung viciously at Julie.
"Fool!" He burst out scolding,
The young man wanted to drag him away.
"I'm not leaving," he said indignantly, "I have to tell her." ”
He knocked heavily on Miss Julie's counter.
"You ruined me," he cried, eyes on fire behind his glasses. "I tell you, you're a nosy old cat!"
Julie leaned feebly against the shelf, one hand touching her blue-dot silk vest. The young man grabbed his companion's clothes.
"Well," he said, "you've said enough. He dragged his angry companion to the sidewalk outside the door and turned back.
"I guess I should tell you." He said, "What's going on with this noise?" That was an architectural draftsman, and I worked for the same company as him.
He worked hard for 3 months, drawing a blueprint for the new town hall and preparing to use it for a prize competition. He was yesterday. You know, the draftsman always draws with a pencil first, and then wipes off the pencil with a handful of old bread crumbs. It's better than the eraser.
"He's been buying bread here. But today—well, you know, ma'am, the cream isn't—well, his drawings are useless now, and can only be cut into chunks and made into narrow sandwich bread. ”
Miss Martha went back into the house, took off her blue-dot silk vest, changed into the old beep of the deep coffee she used to wear, and poured the combination of quince seeds and borax into the trash can outside the window.
This self-righteous cupid love ends up being a farce, and there is no Jedi strikes back at all.