Prosa_Man sells car

Man sells car

Mann, Early forties, sells car, well preserved, and wife to it.

Hello, i am writing this ad for my husband, who has just confessed to me, that he will unfortunately be broke for the end of the year. It is with a heavy heart that he sells his car 1.1.20 an solventen Käufer, where he also sells me or gives me free. I am not a car professional, but as far as I can tell, the cart is in good condition despite the older year and has four drive units. The approximately sixteen premium tires cannot burst and have a gear wheel effect, so that they are in deep snow, like biting extremely well in raging brooks. Like my husband's car, I'm an older generation, but unfortunately less well preserved, honestly, I personally even doubt it, whether there will be any prices for me at all. That my husband wants to sell me in a station wagon with his car and not scrap me right away, amazes me, honestly, something. But I conclude from this, that he liked me a little bit, before the car spoiled him, because of the eternal having to go under and being bankrupt, though! Who knows, maybe my husband's apartment will soon be ruined too. He has long since spoiled the job! That's why my husband has already hung it up! When I look at my husband like that, and see, how dejected and disgusted he looks at his car, I read on his face, that the car means nothing to him anymore. And that look stones me. Because exactly with the same dejected look, with which he looks at his car, while I secretly watch him, my husband is looking at me lately too. Because my husband doesn't talk to me very often, By the way, I can only speculate: My husband probably wants to part with all that junk, to have the feeling at least once in a lifetime, he was free. As long as he still had money and wasn't broke, in the end he could only dream of this freedom. But again: i don't mean to say, that I really know my husband's dreams! My husband certainly didn't drive a dream car, but that he was a safe driver, I can testify. After all, it was me, who recently sat in the passenger seat of his car. Often times, when I sat next to my husband in the passenger seat, I secretly looked over at him and thought two things: first: I don't even know my husband! And secondly: how do I desire and love my little one, sweet, of all kinds, heart, Incidentally, almost always man complaining about fatigue! Not infrequently I also snapped at my husband, please drive slower in town! My husband never drove too fast and he was definitely never a speedster. I once knew a speed man, Do you know! And that happened to be my father! It drove so fast in and out of town, that I often closed my eyes in the passenger seat. We were traveling on a country road, and a truck came towards us, my father moved up to within a few centimeters of the motorist in front of him. Then he pressed the accelerator and the pointer, which indicated the kilometers per hour, spilled to a hundred and forty! And, really! Or was it two hundred and forty?! Unfortunately, I am totally car blind, and number blind on top of that. For example, if there is my husband's silver car and several cars in a parking lot, which could also be my husband's car, because they are also silvery, I often get in the wrong car. Everything else brings me too, what wheels have to yawn within a short time! I know, that sounds old-fashioned, and as if I wasn't emancipated. Now, I can't answer that well, since i got the meaning of the term: I don't really understand emancipation related to me. For sure, I understand the meaning of the term in relation to women, that already. But that's something else! When I say, that maybe I'm an old fashioned woman, unfortunately does not mean that, That is why I am also a cuddly woman! Quite possible, my husband fell into a trap on this point, when he chose me from all the other women for his passenger seat. It is true, that I am always only to myself, my immediate physical and emotional well-being, my make-up, beautiful films and romantic natural spots interested. But alone, because I knew of my simplicity, I couldn't be stupid! But since I didn't understand anything about machines and therefore especially about cars, my husband probably believed, i'm a stupid woman. And because I was a stupid woman into machines and map reading on top of that, he concluded from this, i am a loving stupid woman! How disappointed my husband must have been, when he realized, that he cannot conquer me via two three main mechanical grips! I was a mystery to my husband, if he didn't heat the car again, and I ordered: "Turn on the heater, I as a woman need warm!“Less than ten minutes later I rolled down the window and fanned myself with cold air. Nanu, no reason yet, to consider myself not completely baked or even an enigma! People just have cold and warm at the same time! Not just recently has my husband developed all sorts of reservations, I felt that clearly on his face. That he has to sell his car, because the money is not enough, he has told me for a long time. I always said then, money shouldn't be a problem. “If you want to keep the car, we take from my father, the raser, just get a loan!“But my husband didn't want that. Maybe, because he didn't trust me? "I'm selling you and my car," he joked.

Now I have to correct a few things: Although my husband is now selling me, is he actually not my husband at all. In that way we were never married. But I also ask myself otherwise, as my husband thinks of it, he could sell me, so little, how he ever let me own him. At the beginning of our relationship we were fools to eat each other, I have to say that! At that time, my husband had had his car for several years. "The car", he said, "is good for you, so that you can get out of the house every now and then. ”-“ You only left me for this man because of his car!“That's what my ex said back then, by the way. We were Greens and were as unconforming as the stereotypes that I am giving of myself. Stereotypes, which, to some extent, might even apply to my parents' marriage. In contrast to me, my mother could drive a car, but not really relaxed with my dad in the passenger seat! Okay, I may have to mention here, that my father, the rage, really a damn good driver, Machine operator and parker was! So he has the more nefarious one, awkward kind, with my mother, the fine flower, the dome shifted into another gear, just badly tolerated! The dome, that means the thing, the little bulge, which connects the two front driving seats, or? Somehow, so I have it with my switching (and rule at the dome) Mother learned from watching back then. The dome, and so the thing in between has to be moved in a bar and somehow adjust itself. First, if it is properly adjusted, can the car even start! Otherwise the car will jump off without one! So that's how I see it! However, I don't really know the story of my parents either. Something, that I know, is, that the two met at the dance class. And that is the beginning, so the approach of their love, from dancing, did not consist of rotating the dome. But when it comes to flying high, there is usually a middle distance, which can even extend to a dry spell. I've long been in it myself, and therefore call me a residual meter. What I said about myself and my husband, but as I said, does not correspond to the truth in one point: I could never marry a man, unless, that I don't love him! But I have my husband, this man, here, dearly loved. Or do you want to claim now, I may not know, what love is, just as little, as i know, what a car is!? Maybe that's what I care (because of love) hurt so much, when my husband cracked tasteful jokes about me, like that one: “In the new year I'll sell you and my car.” - “Are you sure, that your subconscious is not speaking here?“, I asked my husband, who was never my husband, sharp. “It looks like you want to get rid of me! But instead of saying that straight to my face, you hide your wish in a joke. ”My non-husband gave an exasperated groan. “You just don't understand joke!" - "Fun? You call that?!“, I shot sharply. “So listen, I've said a lot of shit already, but that I am selling you with my cosmetics cabinet, that means no: I give you to my brushes on top of that!, I haven't had this fun yet! Although, that occurs to me: We would surely be able to get a little more money out of you, than from me, but hardly the maximum amount!“I cannot describe it, how infinitely sad that makes me, that I can't snuggle up to my husband, (at least the way he hugs his car seat) because he doesn't want that anymore. Or fate forbade it. If I, gentle, stupid, old fashioned little one, sensitive girl, as I said, became rough, i could see, wie mein kleiner, cutie pie, more sensitive, Man joking about me was inwardly shocked. A helpless childlike feeling flashed over his beautiful angular face with the deep brown eyes, I always wanted to have with me. always. In me. All around me. On me. About me. Closer, deeper! But at this moment, when I got rough, I wanted to take everything back, what I had just given back as revenge for the joke. I wanted to take my husband in my arms and pour strokes over him like a little boy. I would have loved to have taken off with him! You know where to go, or? Unfortunately I am a woman addicted to love. I only have that now, discovered in my aunty age. For at least ten years I've been muddling through life alone with my make-up box and only love of love (See)Got addiction. I only put on makeup, when I think about it right, to remove my make-up at the best possible opportunity! In total, my husband and I have about five bigger ones with his car, made smaller trips. Most of them, because I went to a doctor somewhere, far from our home. These trips were stressful for both of us, just, because my husband was almost always tired and I was very sick. The trips across the country roads are among my most unforgettable memories. I do not know, maybe I've already said it: I sat in the passenger seat and adored my husband from the side. I coveted his beautifully curved side profile. His gaze was directed to the street, its warm, long hands lay on the steering wheel. He was silent with his lips closed, so soft, so velvety! The purest peace lay over us! But that was at a time, in which I was not yet so seriously ill and my husband was not yet so depressed and buttoned up. Zu einer Zeit, in which my husband may still have loved me, maybe. Maybe. Anyone interested in buying the machine, For more information, please contact us before 31.12 X.Y to my husband. I cannot provide any further technical information about the car myself. “If you want”, I said, “you can keep your car. "

(Winter 2019/6.2020)