«The third note, or the beauty of the wrath of Venera. Part 2» We came to the riding hall. The trainer (her name is Anastasya, she is a beautiful girl) prepared a hourse for my mate very quickly. But there weren't any animal for me (I mean, amateurs usually ride particular, «calm» horses. All were busy). That's why she went to the the head-trainer and asked her to give me a hourse for «adults». I felt a great joy, when Anastasya came leading the white hourse with small black and grey spots, gave me the reins and whispered to my ear: «try not to die» (I don't know how to translate her words correctly into English. Sounds scary, but that was a joke...nearly joke). She also said that the name of the horse is Venera (Venus in English) and she hates horses (that's true). The reins were in my hands, horse was near my head and watched into my eyes. We said «hello» to each other. And in that moment I forgot about my mate and all the world around me. We rode quite far from others (you know now about her fear). I don't have words to express all the feelings I felt and all the things she did. But one thing is ought to be said. We fought. We fought with her since I sat in the saddle because she was mad at me. That's the way women check men. They become mad and look for men: what are they going to do? And that's why I called this note «the beauty of the wrath...». It was like the picturesque battle, the most interesting game in the world. She wanted to understand me and I wanted to conquer her. She was to decide (the nature forced her): to be with him or not to be? Fortunately, I'm alive. And this beautiful «women» is mine.