Eve In a Fairy Tale
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About this ebook
We can safely say that this story happened through the fault of irrepressible curiosity. Frankly, it is for this reason that in my life most often occurs some garbage, but specifically this time Feil was truly epic. It all began with a pantry. Typically, such a small room next to the wine cellar, which gave George a good mother, not bothering to ask, what is it her turn. A very bold move for someone who married a witch. Almost suicidal. However, it is about this and did not know, but I was able to make their own skin.
But first things first.
Olexandr Ptashkogray
Hometown:Weimar (Germany) Personal priority:Family and children Important in others:Humor and love for life I thank you and that reading the books, I wish to enjoy it and learn a lot of interesting things! Best regards O.P .
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Eve In a Fairy Tale - Olexandr Ptashkogray
Eve in a Fairy tale
more of my publications Olexandr Ptashkogray :
https://www.smashwords.com/dashboard
I thank you and that reading the book, I wish to enjoy it and learn a lot of interesting things!
Best regards O.P .
Copyright © 2015 by Olexandr Ptashkogray
X: Ah, if Stallone played Potter, I would still mastered all of the ...
Y: If Stallone playing Potter, he would be back in the first part of Voldemort killed,
and all the rest - to hide the forest!
We can safely say that this story happened through the fault of irrepressible curiosity. Frankly, it is for this reason that in my life most often occurs some garbage, but specifically this time Feil was truly epic. It all began with a pantry. Typically, such a small room next to the wine cellar, which gave George a good mother, not bothering to ask, what is it her turn. A very bold move for someone who married a witch. Almost suicidal. However, it is about this and did not know, but I was able to make their own skin.
But first things first.
Since then, both my mother and I moved to Sokolov, she had the idea to create a place in the mansion for magic rituals. Put the altar, decorate the walls pentagrams (solely for the sake of the entourage, because we, witches, when cast on the walls do not look, and the altar, it seems only necromancers and need - for sacrifice), spread a fire in a corner, perched on a tripod and copper boiler (since pan from BergHOFF - it's so corny!) and put in one place all of our charms of magic, books and other important equipment. Brilliant idea! So brilliant that it can be compared only to the decision to create a repository of nuclear weapons in the city center millionth.
And Alex on this occasion was totally agree with me:
- Jadwiga did not think would happen if your toys fall into the hands of death ?! - He hissed.
- I thought! - In exasperation I squinted at him. - And then for a long time and described it in paint effects.
- And ...?! - Without waiting for the continuation handed Shura.
- Mom promised to strengthen the overlap in the house - I said grumpily. - And lock the pantry door with a key.
Alex gritted his teeth:
- If she wanted to put all your damn explosive in one place, whether it was easier to hide them somewhere in the woods? Or in the desert? Or - better yet, on the island of Kerguelen Islands, near Antarctica? Recently there, they say, even scientists are not left!
I shrugged and picked up the Shurikovsky tablet. Climbed to the Internet, found Kerguelen Island on the map, read a couple of notes:
- Scientists are not left - nodded thoughtfully. - But the air defense system there nobody cleaned. And, in your place, I would not propose to equip magical laboratory in the vicinity of the military arsenal.
Alex shuddered, evidently imagining that might do the witch class Jadwiga Morgalis
, reaching the anti-aircraft missile launcher, and decided it was best to keep mom within reach. Even if it is with a magic inventory.
And away we go!
Not that Jadwiga was necessary go-ahead, but the next day all the trash that she could collect during his long life, miraculously moved into my room. Why me - I still could not understand. I may have a good aura. Or bad karma. A more likely that Hedwig is simply no conscience. Here you imagine yourself: Friday, wonderful spring day. My last class was canceled, Shura walk, we reached breeze building a motorcycle and, without waiting for a dirty trick, tandem stepped into my bedroom. Where on the head and fell caster pot. Close such a crock. Took unclear where and immediately began to cook sweet porridge directly on the shoulders of my little ochumevshemu brother. Incidentally, I also fell into a light stupor, when she saw what for part-time mom managed to transform a room. There were a broom, and a grandfather clock in the amount of five units, two of which were hefty swinger from floor to ceiling; and some medicine in artistic disorder scattered on the bed. And most importantly - my mother's baby
of the invention in the form of automatic recorder pen had time to paint the wallpaper on the walls of the two, and that same pot.
- Do not boil! - I growled at belching flow porridge cooking utensils.
Alex slowly raised his hand and wiped off the face of food scraps.
- What the ... - he began, but then there was a faint puff
, was formed in the ceiling spot, something vaguely akin to a black hole, and on the floor with the characteristic sound of a harp struck.
- If I am not mistaken, it samoplyasy - I put in quickly. Shura turned slowly. In his darkened eyes clearly read that the name of the object it is now interested in the least!
Frowning, I asked the guy to wait for the findings and took phone:
- Hello, Mom? - Called into the phone. - You're where?
- In Karaganda - angrily threw the witch, angry that her distracted. - Clean out storage.
- For Real? - Clarified sarcastically slow-witted
daughter. - And where garbage go?
- It's not trash, Eva! This is an extremely important and valuable device! Some are literally universal significance!
- Of course, that's why they were hidden in your personal bunkers? - Grimly I said. Mom unhappy sniffed into the phone:
- What do you want?
- I wanted to say hello and tell me that nearly killed your valuable harp!
At the end of the wires
were silenced. Then my mother carefully specified:
- And you did an hour in school should not be?
We looked at each other with Alex:
- I have a short day today! - Grunted in response. Damn! As if the degree of clogging my room was dependent on the number of lessons in school. Especially while I was talking to my mother on the bed landed a pile of different-sized books and an old bird cage with a rusty door (of course, a very important thing for humanity). - Mom! - I snapped. - Maybe that's enough to bombard my bedroom ?!
- Of course not! - Outraged Jadwiga. - Or do you want me to store things in my room?
- Why