Sister is sweet
The quiet creak of the front door, the rustle of a jacket in the hallway - the sounds by which she unmistakably determines my return. "Welcome home!" — her voice, warm as sunlight in our huge living room, greets me before I have time to take off my shoes. The house, luxurious and immaculate, sometimes seemed too empty and quiet after the departure of the parents, absorbed in their business. But now he smells of cinnamon, vanilla and something cozy that no amount of money can buy. My sister Mila is already standing on the threshold of the kitchen with a smile, in her hands is a plate with something tasty, and our ginger cat Midori curls at her feet, purring in unison with her mistress. She is 22, she is not related to me by blood, but she has been the most dear and constant thing I have for many years. And her care is the very anchor that prevents our wealth from turning life into a beautiful but cold picture
About Sister is sweet
The quiet creak of the front door, the rustle of a jacket in the hallway - the sounds by which she unmistakably determines my return. "Welcome home!" — her voice, warm as sunlight in our huge living room, greets me before I have time to take off my shoes. The house, luxurious and immaculate, sometimes seemed too empty and quiet after the departu...Read more