and brainless. And how do I figure it all out? He feels good – he remembers all this himself. His father interrupted his physiology in the middle of the second genereal, grandfather – then he was already an adult. Previously, it was not fashionable for them to delay the birth of children until the second genereal.
And my dad – at the end of his first general, he took care of the offspring and…
By the way – you need to ask my grandfather what kind of story happened with my father’s sexin, after which – he also decided to end his physiological life.
What did he think up there again?
«Brakes.» Where does he only take such words? It’s good that I’m already used to it and I know almost all of its antediluvian vocabulary. No, I would say – pause. So no – slow down.
«Well again, grandfather?»
– If you think that I have already begun to understand something, then you are mistaken.
Something he somehow bent. Maybe – again, deviations from functionality have begun? So instantaneous (medical drone) would have rushed. And would render him full physiological help.
Well, where do I have his bio-indicators?
Hormone release? And which ones? From the estrogen group?
– Grandfather…
– Yes, you have sexual arousal! In your age!
– Call your sexin’s? Or – start a psychocorrection?
– Yes, shut up you, «granddaughter»!
«Can you be silent for at least five minutes?!»
– Let me catch my breath.
Chapter 6. CURL
She stood right under the air fan grill. Not really – in the aisle, but not at the very door of the car.
The subway car swayed up and down, and sideways, it was thrown on turns. The bursting air also changed its intensity, due to pressure surges in the subway tunnel. Therefore – it seemed that some magical gin from a bottle was sitting behind a fan grill and having folded his lips «into a tube» – he was trying to ruffle his hair. Her hairdo. That – blows harder, then weaken the pressure…
I saw some kind of brilliance. Something flashed in the gray mass of fellow travelers around me. It could be a «bunny» from the searchlight in the tunnel, or a reflection from the glass on the clock of someone who suddenly decided to move his hand «in the clock».
Why did I decide to turn my head in the direction of this brilliant flash? What pushed me?
But I couldn’t take my eyes off. And even when at the bus stop – the car was emptied and re-filled, even this hustle, bumps and «rubbing» with my whole body, loud exclamations and a mishmash of gray shades of clothes on people – all this could not tear my gaze…
On the contrary – I was a couple of meters closer…
He glowed and winked at me, swaying to the beat of the carriage.
Stop again. Again – loading and unloading. And I’m even closer to her…
Something just pulls me toward her and him.
To this light and tender, as if a leaf of maple fluttering in the wind, or a white sakura flower.
To curls and spring elongation – a slightly reddish and white curl.
Blond curl.
So, it seems poets say…
I can take another step into the vacant space – and be very close to it. Forward – my Rocinante. We are waiting for accomplishment and glory…
The fact is that I was wearing dark glasses. Yesterday’s celebration of Petrovich’s birthday ended in full accordance with Russian traditions – a drunken scuffle. No – I have nothing against it. We parted in a friendly manner, but I decided to hide my swimming eye for the time being from prying eyes. A foreigner with a swimming eye – may cause extra attention. This is completely useless to me.
I’ve rarely been to Russia, but if I’m arriving, then with my friends, we «come off to the fullest.» So it seems to be said here.
A curl draw attention…
We were butchered by some 2—3 decimeters. I could already smell her perfume.
What was it? I don’t know for sure, but the aroma of jasmine and something else was clearly felt…
I could not clearly see her face, only the outline was clearly visible. This is the nose, and this is the lips, and the line of the chin smoothly turning into the line of the neck…
Standing a little behind her and grabbing my hand on the same bar that she was holding on to, I could see some other gleam on her arm. Felts rings – felts ring. It does not matter.
She, apparently having felt my close attention or gaze, turned to me, studied me with a study and said:
«Is it not dark for you with these glasses?»
Of course, I understood the question, no matter how bad my Russian language would be, but I didn’t catch the intonation for some reason. Was it – a proactive question to prevent possible attempts to make contact, or – she was really interested in the strangeness of the passenger in the dark subway car – in sunglasses. Unclear.
And only now I saw that in her other hand was a book that she had been reading all this time. That is why she did not move from her place and did not turn her head around.
But what to answer? How to behave?
Not waiting for an answer – she turned back to her book. Unhooking the hand for a moment from the handrail above the head – easily, correcting it, made a gesture to push the curl out of the hairstyle – back into the hairstyle. Or – under a hat? I could not make out.
But nothing came of her. Curl – stubbornly returned to his place, teasing my attention and playing with me – only he knows the game.
«My eye is broken.» I am ashamed. I hid it.
The only thing that I could answer. Since the conversation should continue. I was given a clear signal – the woman emphasized with her correction that she was a woman. And it was a reaction to my appearance. Consequently – the book interests her already much less than someone’s attention.
Aboard!
She certainly heard my terrible accent. My stretch rr. And even if she does not understand the shades of the sound of the French language when pronouncing Russian words, then my answer – in any case, should encourage her to continue the dialogue.
– Frenchman with a broken eye! What – a jealous husband, I decided to spoil your vision so that you never again saw his wife?
She slammed the book and turned to me with the whole body, obviously – with a wide smile on her face, she said.
I could not help but answer.
«What are you reading?»
Having reached out and turning her palm with the book towards him, I decided not to joke with a joke, but to try to further reduce the distance between us.
Jasmine – of course jasmine was in the perfume. But here…
Some extremely delicate aroma, still mixed with the smell of jasmine. What is this?
Lipstick?
No – I caught this taste of a rose right away. Only lipstick can smell like that, and it’s fresh, apparently