Elena Speranskaya

Imprint of Heart. Illumination with love


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the girl began to get angry at the intrusiveness of her neighbor. “Sorry, now I’m going to the theater,” she did not know what else to lie, so she did not intelligently close the door right in front of the guest’s nose.

      “It remains to have a kitten for a complete happiness,” she thought, and looked at her watch.

      Ten minutes later the doorbell rang again. On the threshold stood Alex with a beautiful bouquet of chrysanthemums. A new blue suit, brown shoes, a white with a blue striped shirt, a blue tie with brown strokes from Mastai Ferretti. He brushed his hair and handed her a bouquet.

      “Put it in the vase, please,” his words aroused her sympathy.

      She let the guest go into the hallway, where he looked self-assured in the mirror.

      “Do not worry; my father’s name is Nikolai Nikolaevich. Try to be more polite to him.”

      She led Alex to the table, sat him next to her father.

      “Lucya told me about you. Pour all a little. I want to drink for our acquaintance.”

      She put the flowers in a thin, metal vase of Turkish production in the middle of the table, she sat down beside her. Alex poured the wine in the glasses and, raising his wine glass with champagne, said the speech prepared beforehand:

      “I want a word,” he said. “I like your daughter, we work together, and we are going to get married. Let’s drink to our friendship!”

      “Alex, you said something early about marriage, I did not give consent,” Lucy interrupted him solemnly. “Engagement is a good thing…”

      “And we will not ask you. You go with him and that’s it,” her father said.

      She did not expect the collusion to happen so quickly. “It’s even better, we will not wait,” she thought, and barely audible said:

      “I do not mind, Alex likes me. The best friend and life partner I do not need.”

      “For this we’ll drink,” they all supported happily.

      Lucy turned on the receiver, and a smooth melody played. She was courting her father, applying a salad, then the second. Alexey also did not suffer from a bad appetite.

      “It turns out, Lucya, you are a great cook,” Alexey praised. “Eat it yourself. I’m a bad gentleman; I do not know how to take care of anything.” He took her plate and put a little salad in it and the second one, poured vodka to everyone and happily said:

      “For the meeting!”

      The music sounded. Alex was courting everyone. He invited the girl to a dance and poured a little wine into a glass of the future father-in-law.

      “I will not interfere with the young,” her father said, and went into his room.

      The couple danced and did not notice how her father left them. They forgot that tomorrow they go to work, the melody completely captured the space, and they began to kiss and hug.

      “Soon we get married, would you mind?” Alex asked gallantly, hoping for a compliment in his address, since the costume he bought himself in Italy for the euro of the same firm as the tie, cost him a decent amount.

      “No. I agreed,” she replied, enjoying the intimate atmosphere.

      “You know, I’m a very self-interested person, think it over and over, could you get along with me?”

      The words of the guy hurt her. He stayed with Lucy until ten o’clock. They finished their champagne, danced several times. At the beginning of the eleventh, Alexey said:

      “The evidences are collected. Soon the court will be. Lieutenant-colonel Kiryanov advises you to come too, to confirm that you were at the post office on the day of encashment.”

      “It is necessary, so it is necessary, I will come. Send greetings to the detective Tanya Ivanova.”

      Alexey put on his jacket, which had to be removed, as he felt hot.

      Lightening disappeared from the apartment, and she went to the balcony to see how he would go out into the corner. A minute later he appeared, stopped a free taxi, got into the car and drove away. She stood on the balcony for a long time, escorting Alexey thoughtfully. She sighed.

      “Well, Alexey is not Alain Delon, but he loves me, so I love him, too.” She remembered poems written by her friend, dedicated to her, and opened a poetic notebook. At the top of page it was brightly displayed “For a friend”, and next to it there was a signature of the author:

      Friend

      Life said the word at last.

      We broke up too quickly.

      So why should I think so fast

      About you as an old friend weekly?

      Our holidays and everyday life, don’t cry

      Will be remembered by others,

      Parted, well, goodbye.

      We’ll never forget mothers!

      So much Talmuds are written.

      Have read many volumes old.

      I don’t recognize your death.

      I’ll forget and leave the world.

      The winds that blew to meet

      Disappeared forever in the night.

      The candle melted quickly from the kit.

      Remained only cold white light.

      To open the window widely.

      To breathe of old friendship balsam…

      Everything happens in this world.

      I will not give you to anyone.

      The girl was angry with these lines. She began to read the notebook further, trying to find something appropriate to the mood. Finally, stopping her gaze on the amusing poem, she read aloud, standing in the pose in front of the mirror, portraying the poet:

      Wedding Bouquet (fable)

      Ringing, wedding bouquet

      Keeps the bride from possible need.

      Let this truth is not new,

      There no other has we view.

      A brave rabbit found a rich she-wolf.

      He would not believe this deep gulf.

      But the rogue was too greedy,

      And in the ringing of coins he was not weedy.

      He would have forgotten and refused,

      He ran in love to her face confused.

      “Wolf, darling, be my wife!

      And we will not part with you in future life.

      We will live in contentment and prosperity,

      Love we both will have in short priority.”

      The wolf fell open his mouth with surprise

      And the swallowed little rabbit was not wise.

      Lucy laughed at the irony and humor and read further:

      Conversations

      Only the day will come again,

      The talk always hinders us.

      There, the rivers start backwards,

      They do not end arguing here thus.

      Conversations, persuasion, slander, lamentations…

      Why is any suffering, as if knowing ahead?

      Flashes