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The entire story began in October, when streets were covered with yellow leaves and love faded in the heart.  There were two of them – the man and the woman. He loved her but she dreamed to live alone. They had no quarrels and misunderstandings in their family. Over some time she forgot how to smile. Blue mood and bad thoughts filled her soul. Quiet family life became miserable and unbearable for her. She fell into a depression.

Happiness, love and the sense of security were lost in her heart. Money were lacking and instead of pleasant weekends they had beer in front of TV watching football.

Once a husband said to his wife:

- I think I should go to the West. I will bring more money back and we will live better then, I promise you. One year is not a long period. 

-Go then. – She said.

He noticed a smile on her face that he has not seen for two years, but said nothing.

When the door was shut, and the room fell silent, she set on the coach and lit a cigarette and looked out of the window. Her solitude gave the feeling of strength and confidence that sometime she will be happy.

Two months have passed since husbands’ departure. In the confusion, she quickly found a new family. New casual acquaintances, drunkenness and suppression of the feeling of a quilt gave her a sense of joy and euphoria.

In New Years Eve, sitting on the coach with her friends, she lit another cigarette. At the age of 23, she was going to celebrate the New Year with students from a college in another city whom she did not know. She understood that it was fun and sad at the same time.

- Hey, guys. I think I will be celebrating New Year with my friend Sasha. Sorry for not accepting your invitation.

Her new friends said nothing.

In the New Year`s night, she set alone on the same coach drinking beer and looking outside the window. When the smoke of the fifth cigarette went to her lungs she understood something.

- Hi. – She said.

- Hi…Who is this?

- It`s me. I want you back. I miss you so much…

- I`m glad that you understood everything. But now it`s too late for us…

Edgar Allan Poe and Emily Dickinson Representation of Evil in Polanski's Rosemary's Baby
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