Beautiful love stories are short. Love stories. Margarita and Alexander Tuchkov: loyalty to love

My story is very interesting. I have been in love with Timur since kindergarten. He is nice and kind. I even went to school ahead of time for him. We studied, and my love grew and grew stronger, but Tima did not have reciprocal feelings for me. Girls constantly hovered around him, he used this, flirted with them, but did not pay attention to me. I was constantly jealous and crying, but I could not confess my feelings. Our school consists of 9 classes. I lived in a small village, and then moved to the city with my parents. Entered the medical college, and healed quietly, peacefully. When I finished my first year, then in May I was sent to practice in the area where I used to live. But I was not sent there alone... When I got by minibus to my native village, I sat next to Timur. He has grown older and prettier. These thoughts made me blush. I still loved him! He noticed me and smiled. Then he sat down and began to ask me about life. I told him and asked about his life. It turned out that he lives in the city where I live and studies at the medical college where I also study. He is the second student sent to our district hospital. During the conversation, I admitted that I love him very much. And he told me that he loved me himself ... Then a kiss, long and sweet. We did not pay attention to the people in the minibus, but drowned in a sea of ​​tenderness.
We are still learning together and going to be great doctors.

One day a young girl
decided to call my
guy. She needed him something
what to report, but she is very
was nervous. They dated
for a year now, and it was their first anniversary since the day they
started dating. Taking
phone, she dialed his number
with trembling fingers and
wait for an answer. It seemed to pass
an eternity until he picked up the phone. Girl: Hello. Boy: why are you calling
to me? Girl: I wanted you something
say. Guy: Yes? What? Girl: I love you. Guy: Yes, I know. Girl: Really? Guy: Yes... all my girlfriends
everyone tells me about it
day. Girl: Yes... But I thought that
Am I your only friend? Boy: No... You're my girlfriend...
But I have girlfriends... Why? Girl: But when I say that
love you i really
I mean exactly this ... I
love you. Boy: Yes, I know you are.
say what you think....
You just don't need more
say that you love me
because I know it. Girl: Do you love me? Guy: I think so. Girl: There's something else
I need to tell you... Boy: What? Don't keep it to yourself. Girl: I'm pregnant. Boy: (long pause) What are you
mean? Girl: I mean what
me in the oven a bun... I
flew in ... Guy: (long pause) In the very
really? Are you sure? Girl: Yes. Test
positive. I am pregnant. Guy: Yes. Girl: You're not talking about anything anymore
want to ask me? Boy: Yes... my baby? Girl: Of course, from you! Guy: I understand. Girl: So you don't mind
meet tonight? Guy: Tonight? Girl: Yes. Don't you
remember? Today we have
anniversary... Guy: Oh, yes. Well then...
perhaps we should
meet. Girl: Great. Where? Guy: I don't know... I'm something
plan. Maybe dinner
or cinema. Girl: Okay. Boy: I'll pick you up later
work, so be prepared. to me
don't want to wait. Girl: Okay. When I
go out? Guy: Two hours later. I should
go home and change clothes
takes about 15-20 minutes... Girl: Hey... and I thought: you
not working today... Boy: One of my colleagues
got sick. Girl: Oh, okay! Then
we'll see each other somewhere
then at 7:30? Guy: Yes! Goodbye. Girl: I love you! Guy: I know. Okay my
the manager looks at me like that
for now... I have to go. Girl: Okay, bye. Guy: For now. Two hours later, young
a man drove up to his house
girls. Parking the car
at the curb, he went to the door
and called. When a girl
opened the door, she was overjoyed. She
hugged him excitedly and
kissed on the cheek. Girl: Hey! Guy: Well, what... Are you ready? Girl: Well... Wait... I
just grab my bag and
we'll go, okay? Guy: Hurry up. I cant
wait all day. That evening they looked
movie at the local cinema
then went to dinner
fast food restaurant. How
as soon as they finished eating their
fries, they returned to the car. Guy: Wait a second. At
I have a surprise for you. Girl: Really? Boy: But first I need to
put this bandage on you. Girl: Why?! Guy: If you see
earlier, it will spoil the surprise. Girl: What's the surprise? Guy: A very big surprise. Girl: Ok, I'll put it on
bandage, but only if you
promise to keep me
hand. Guy: I promise. He blindfolded the girl. Then,
making sure she can't
see, put her in the car, and
they drove off. The girl had no idea where
they go, but because the guy
holding her hand, she
felt in
security. After driving for 15 minutes,
they stopped. Guy: Great. We are on the spot! Girl: Where are we? Guy: Wait, don't shoot
bandage. Let me take you
you! Girl: Where? Guy: Somewhere! The boy took her by the hand and led her
her along the narrow path. She
heard the crunch of gravel under
feet, and the wind began to blow
her hair. It was very cold,
but since her boyfriend was holding her hand, she felt
in safety. Girl: Baby...? Boy: Well, here... Let me
remove the bandage from your eyes. Girl: Where are we? He removed the bandage and she opened
eyes. They stood on a rock
towering over the city.
The view was just wonderful. This
was the place where they
was the first date. It was in this very place that she stood when he
asked her to be his girlfriend.
Emotions flooded over her and she
cried. Girl: Oh my God... Boy: Why are you crying? Girl: I can't believe you
remember... This is the place where
was our first date... The guy looked at his watch. Boy: It's time... Girl: What's the time? Boy: Now you'll see... At that moment she heard
fireworks pop. When she
watched the lights shine
moonlit sky, carving her name,
tears of happiness flowed down her
cheeks. Girl: I thought you forgot about
our anniversary... Guy: I wasn't at work,
when you called me... I
planned it all! Girl: I can't believe you
did it all for me. This is true
nice. Guy: I just made up my mind
another surprise for you. How
do you think it is? Girl: What? Are you
ask me to marry you
married? Guy: Not really. Look
down and tell me what you see... Girl: I don't see anything
just a lot of spicy
stones... Guy: That's right. When she got distracted boy
suddenly pushed her in the back.
The girl lost her balance
flew down the edge of the cliff.
She crashed to death. Boy
looked down and saw how the girl's lifeless body
beats on the waves on the rocks.

Deep night. Somewhere a quiet breeze runs through, dispersing the last dust on the damp pavement. A little night rain added freshness to this stuffy, tortured world. Added freshness to the hearts of lovers. They stood embracing in the light of a street lamp. She is so feminine and tender, who said that at the age of 16 a girl cannot be feminine enough?! Here age does not matter at all, only the one who is nearby, the closest, dearest and warmest person on earth, is important. And he, most of all, is glad that she is finally in his arms. Indeed, they really say that hugs, like nothing else, convey all the love of a person, no kisses, only a gentle touch of his hands. Each of them in this minute, the minute of hugs, experiences unearthly feelings. The girl feels safe knowing that she will always be protected. The guy takes care, feels responsible - an unforgettable feeling in relation to his beloved and the only one.
Everything was like in the finale of the most beautiful film about happy love. But, let's start from the beginning.

A beautiful love story is the most common plot for films and books. And not in vain, because the ups and downs of love are interesting to everyone. There is not a single person on the planet who has not experienced sincere affection at least once, who has not felt a storm in his chest. That is why we invite you to read real love stories: people themselves have shared these stories on the Internet. Honest and very touching, you will love it!

History 1.

My parents divorced a year and a half ago. My father moved away from us, I live with my mother. After the divorce, my mother did not meet with anyone. Was constantly at work to forget about dad. And about 3 months ago, I began to notice that my mother seemed to have someone. She has become more cheerful, dresses better, stays somewhere, comes with flowers, etc. I had mixed feelings, but then one day I come home from the university a little earlier than usual and see my father walking around the house in rags and carrying coffee my mom in bed. They are together again!

History 2.

When I was 16, I met a guy. It was a real first love, mine and his. The purest and most sincere feelings. I had a great relationship with his family, but my mom didn't like him. At all. And she started fighting: she locked me in the room, locked the phone, met me from school. This went on for 3 months. My beloved and I gave up, and each went his own way. After 3 years, I quarreled with my mother and left home. Happy that she would no longer be able to decide everything for me, I came to him to tell him about it. But he greeted me rather coldly, and I left, choking on tears. Many years later. I got married, gave birth to a child. The godfather of my child was a friend of that guy, my former classmate. And then one day his wife told me the love story of their friend, the story of our love, without even knowing that I was the same girl. His life did not work out either, he was married many times, but there was no happiness. He only loved me. And on the day when I came to his house, I was just confused and did not know what to say. I recently found him on social networks, but he has not visited his page for many years. At the age of 16, my daughter met a guy and has been dating him for a year and a half. But I won't make my mom's mistake, even though I don't like him. At all…

History 3.

3 years ago my kidney failed. There are no relatives or relatives. With grief, she got drunk in a nearby bar and burst into tears, there was nothing to lose. A 27-year-old man sat down next to me and asked what happened. Word for word, she spoke about her grief, got to know each other, exchanged numbers, but I never called. I went to the hospital, and who was my surgeon? That's right, the same one. Helped recover after surgery, we are planning a wedding.

History 4.

I am a perfectionist. Recently, they recalled how I once stood in line at the post office and some guy was in front of me. So, on his backpack, the zipper was not completely fastened. I tried to restrain myself, but in the end I boldly stepped forward and buttoned it all the way. The guy turned around and looked at me indignantly. By the way, we remembered it with him, celebrating 4 years of relationship. Do what you want - maybe it's fate ...

History 5.

I work in a flower shop. Today a buyer came and bought 101 roses for his wife. When I was packing, he said: "My girl will be happy." This buyer is 76 years old, he met his wife at 14, and now 55 years of marriage. After such cases, I begin to believe in love.

History 6.

I work as a waitress. My ex, with whom I am on good terms, came and asked for a table for the evening. Said he wanted to propose to the girl of his dreams. Okay, everyone's done. He came in the evening, sat down at the table, asked for wine, two glasses. She brought it, was about to leave, he asked me to sit down for a couple of minutes to talk. I sat down and he knelt down, took out the ring and proposed to me! TO ME! Do you understand? I'm in tears, my face is still in shock, but I sat down to him, kissed him and said yes. And he told me that he always loved me, and we broke up in vain. This will cement our relationship forever! God, I'm happy!

History 7.

Nobody believes me, but the stars sent me my husband. I am not beautiful, I am overweight, and the boys did not indulge me with attention, but I really wanted love and relationships. I was 19, I was lying on the beach at night, looking at the sky and sad. When the first star fell, I made love. Then the second one, on which I thought to meet her that same night, and decided that if the third falls, it will definitely come true ... And yes, she fell, literally right away. That same night, my future husband wrote me by mistake on a social network.

History 8.

At the age of 17 I had my first love, but my parents did not approve. Summer, warm nights, he came under my windows (1st floor) at 4 o'clock in the morning to call me to meet the dawn! And I escaped through the window, although I have always been a house girl. We walked, kissed, chatted about everything and nothing, were free as the wind and happy! He returned me home by 7 am, when my parents were just getting up for work. No one noticed my absence, and it was the most adventurous and romantic act of my life.

History 9.

I was walking with a dog in the courtyard of high-rise buildings and saw how one elderly man walked and asked everyone about the woman. He knew her last name, her place of work, her dog. Everyone brushed aside, and no one wanted to remember this certain woman, but he went and asked, asked. It turned out that this was his first love, after many years he came to his hometown and first of all went to find out if she lives in the house in which he first saw her and fell in love. At the end, a couple of guys about 14 years old called this woman. You should have seen their eyes when they met! Love doesn't just disappear!

History 10.

My first love was crazy. We were madly in love with each other. On August 22, we “married” by exchanging silver rings on the roof of an abandoned construction site. Now we have not been together for a long time, but every year on August 22, without saying a word, we come to this construction site and just talk. That time was the best in my life.

History 11.

I lost my wedding ring a year ago, I was very upset, but my husband and I could not afford to buy another one. Yesterday I came home after work, there was a small box on the table, in it was a new ring and a note "You deserve the best." It turned out that my husband sold his grandfather's watch to buy me this ring. And today I sold my grandmother's earrings and bought him a new watch.

History 12.

With my first love were together since the cradle. And we had a cipher in which each letter was replaced by a serial number in the alphabet. For example, “I love you”: 33. 20. 6. 2. 33. 13. 32. 2. 13. 32, etc. But in the end, already in adulthood, life separated us on different banks, and we almost stopped communicate. She recently moved to my city for work, and we decided to meet. We walked for several hours, and then dispersed to our homes. And closer to the night I received an SMS from her: "Let's try again." And at the end those numbers.

History 13.

My boyfriend and I had an anniversary a week ago, but we live in different cities. I decided to surprise him and come that day to spend it together. I bought a ticket, went to the station, I'm late. I run without looking back to my car ... Fuh, I made it. The train moves off, I sit, look out the window and who do I see? Yeah, my boyfriend with a bouquet of flowers. It turned out that he decided to make the same surprise to me.

History 14.

And my beloved and I got along thanks to a fucking sense of humor. Once, when he was still just my neighbor, I asked him to look at a broken outlet. This joker, having touched the socket, began to imitate an electric shock - twitching and yelling. When I was about to push him away from the socket in a panic with a freshly torn off plinth, he sank to the floor with a lifeless look, and then jumped up with a cry: "Ahaaa." And I ... And what am I? I clutched my heart and very naturally portrayed a heart attack. As a result, they laughed all evening, soldered each other with cognac and never parted again.

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Irina Lobusova
Kamasutra. Short stories about love (compilation)

It was like this

Almost every day we meet at the landing of the main staircase. She smokes in the company of her friends, and Natasha and I are looking for a women's toilet - or vice versa. She looks like me - maybe because we both completely lose the ability to navigate in the vast and endless (so it seems to us every day) space of the institute. The long, intricate bodies of which seem to be specially created in order to put pressure on the brains. Usually, by the end of the day, I start to get angry and demand to immediately give out the monkey that built this building. Natasha laughs and asks why I am sure that this architectural monkey is still alive. However, endless wandering in search of the right audience or women's toilet is entertainment. There are so few of them in our life - simple entertainment. We both appreciate them, I recognize everything by the eyes. When at the most unexpected moment we collide on the stairs and lie to each other that our meeting is absolutely unexpected. We both know how to simply lie classically. I. And she.

We usually meet on the stairs. Then we avert our eyes and make an important appearance. She staidly explains how she just left the classroom. I - that I pass along the corridor nearby. No one admits, even under the guise of a terrible death penalty, that in fact we are standing here and waiting for each other. No one but us is given (and will not be given) to know about this.

Both very amicably pretend that they are insanely glad to see each other. From the outside, everything looks so that it is easy for us to believe.

- It's so nice to meet friends!

“Ah, I didn’t even know that you would be passing through here… But I’m so glad!”

– What do you have to smoke?

She holds out cigarettes, my friend Natasha brazenly grabs two at once, and in complete female solidarity, the three of us silently smoke until the call for the next pair.

“Could you give me your economic theory notes for a couple of days?” We have a test in a couple of days ... And you already passed the test ahead of schedule ... (she)

- No problem. Call, come in and take ... (I).

Then we go to lectures. She is studying in the same course as me, only in a different stream.

The auditorium is damp from the morning light, and the desk is still damp from the cleaner's wet rag. Behind the people are discussing yesterday's television series. After a few minutes, everyone is immersed in the depths of higher mathematics. Everyone but me. During the break, without taking my eyes off the notes, I sit at the table, trying to at least see what is written on the paper sheet open in front of me. Someone slowly and quietly approaches my table. And without looking up, I know who I will see. Who is behind me... She.

She enters sideways, as if embarrassed by strangers. He sits down next to him, looks into his eyes faithfully. We are the closest and best friends, and for a long time. The deep essence of our relationship cannot be expressed in words. We're just waiting for one man. Both are waiting, without success, for a year. We are rivals, but not a single person in the world would have thought to call us that. Our faces are the same because they are marked with an indelible stamp of love and anxiety. For one person. We probably both love him. Maybe he loves us too, but for the safety of our common souls with her, it’s easier to persuade ourselves that he really doesn’t give a damn about us.

How much time has passed since then? Six months, a year, two years? Since the time when there was one, the most ordinary phone call?

Who called? You don’t remember the name now ... Someone from a neighboring course ... or from a group ...

"- Hey. Come right now. Everyone has gathered here ... there is a surprise!

- What a surprise?! It's raining outside! Speak up!

- How about your English?

- Did you use your brains?

“Listen, we have Americans here. Two of them came on an exchange trip to the Faculty of Romano-Germanic Philology.

Why are they sitting with us?

- They are not interested there, in addition, they met Vitalik and he brought them to our hostel. They are funny. They hardly speak Russian. She (named) fell for one. He sits next to him all the time. Come. You must look at this! “

The rain that beat in the face ... When I returned home, there were three of us. Three. That's how it's been since then.

I turn my head and look at her face - the face of a man who, faithfully resting his head on my shoulder, looks with the eyes of a pitiful beaten dog. She definitely loves him more than me. She loves it so much that it is a holiday for her to hear at least one word. Even if his word is meant for me. From the point of view of injured pride, I look at her very intently and with knowledge of the matter I note that today she is badly combed, this lipstick does not suit her, and there is a loop on the pantyhose. She probably sees bruises under my eyes, nails without signs of manicure and a tired look. I have known for a long time that my chest is more beautiful and larger than hers, my height is taller and my eyes are brighter. But her legs and waist are more slender than mine. Our mutual inspection is almost imperceptible - this is a habit rooted in the subconscious. After that, we mutually look for oddities in behavior, indicating that one of us has recently seen him.

“Yesterday I watched international news until two o’clock in the morning ...” her voice trails off, becomes hoarse, “probably they won’t be able to come this year ... I heard the crisis is in the States ..

“And if they do, despite their faltering economy,” I pick up, “they are unlikely to visit us.

Her face is drawn, I see that I hurt her. But I can't stop now.

- And in general, I have long forgotten about all this nonsense. Even if he comes again, you still won't understand him. As last time.

- But you can help me with the translation ...

- Hardly. I forgot English a long time ago. Soon the exams, the session, you need to study Russian ... the future belongs to the Russian language ... and they also say that the Germans will soon come to the RHF on an exchange. Do you want to sit down at the dictionary and go look at them?

After her, he went over to me - it was normal, I had long been accustomed to such a reaction, but I did not know that his ordinary masculine actions could cause her such pain. He still writes letters to me - thin sheets printed on a laser printer ... I keep them in an old notebook so as not to show anyone. She does not know about the existence of these letters. All her ideas about life are the hope that he will forget me too. I guess that every morning she opens her map to the world and looks hopefully at the ocean. She loves the ocean almost as much as she loves him. The ocean for her is a bottomless abyss in which thoughts and feelings drown. I do not dissuade her from this illusion. Let it live the way it is easy. Our history is primitive to stupidity. It's so ridiculous that it's embarrassing to even talk about it. The people around are firmly convinced that, having met at the institute, we just became friends just like that. The two closest friends. Who always have something to talk about ... It's true. We are friends. We are interested together, there are always common themes and we also understand each other perfectly. I like her - as a person, as a person, as a friend. She likes me too. She has personality traits that I don't have. We are good together. It's so good that no one is needed in this world. Maybe even the ocean.

In the publicly visible “personal” life, each of us has a separate man. She has a biology student from the university. I have a computer artist, a rather funny type. With a valuable quality - the inability to ask questions. Our men help us survive the uncertainty and longing, and also the thought that he will not return. That our American romance will never really connect us with him. But for this love, we secretly promise each other to always show concern - concern not about ourselves, about him. She has no idea, I understand how ridiculous and ridiculous we are, clinging to a cracked, torn straw in order to swim to the surface and drown out some strange pain. Tooth-like pain that comes at the most inopportune moment in the most inopportune place. Pain - about yourself? Or about him?

Sometimes I read hatred in her eyes. As if by tacit agreement, we hate everything that exists around. An institute that you entered just like that, for the sake of a diploma, friends who don’t give a damn about you, society and our existence, and most importantly, the abyss that forever separates us from it. And when we are tired to the point of madness from eternal lies and poorly hidden indifference, from the whirlwind of meaningless, but many events, from the stupidity of other people's love stories - we meet her eyes and see sincerity, real, truthful sincerity, purer and better than which there is none ... We never talk about a love triangle because we both understand very well that behind this lies something more complicated than the dilemma of ordinary unrequited love ...

And one more thing: we often think of him. We remember, experiencing different feelings - longing, love, hatred, something nasty and nasty, or vice versa, bright and fluffy ... And after a stream of general phrases, someone suddenly stops in mid-sentence and asks:

- Well?

And the other shakes her head:

- Nothing new…

And, meeting eyes, he will understand the mute sentence - there will be nothing new, nothing ... Never.

At home, alone with myself, when no one sees me, I go crazy from the abyss into which I fall lower and lower. I crazily want to grab a pen and write in English: “leave me alone… don’t call… don’t write…” But I can’t, I’m not able to do this, and therefore I suffer from nightmares, from which only chronic insomnia becomes my other half. Our serene sharing of love is a terrible nightmare for me at night ... Like a Swedish family or Muslim laws on polygamy ... In nightmares, I even imagine how we both marry him and host in the same kitchen ... Me. And she. It makes me cringe in my sleep. I wake up in a cold sweat and am tempted to say that I learned from mutual acquaintances about his death in a car accident ... Or that another plane crashed somewhere ... I invent hundreds of ways, I know I can’t do it. I can't hate her. Just like she did me.

Once, on a difficult day, when my nerves were shattered to the limit, I pressed her against the stairs:

- What are you doing?! Why are you following me? Why are you continuing this nightmare?! Live your own life! Leave me alone! Do not seek my company, because in fact you hate me!

There was a strange look in her eyes.

- It is not true. I can't and don't want to hate you. I love you. And a little of it.

Every day for two years we meet on the landing of the stairs. And every meeting we do not talk, but think about him. I even catch myself thinking that every day I count down the clock and look forward to the moment when she quietly, as if embarrassed, enters the audience, sits with me and starts a stupid endless conversation on general topics. And then, in the middle, he will interrupt the conversation and look at me questioningly ... I will guiltily turn my eyes to the side to shake my head negatively. And I will shudder all over - probably from the eternal cold dampness in the mornings.

Two days before new year

The telegram said "don't come". Snow scratched his cheeks with stiff bristles, trampled under a broken lantern. The edge of the most impudent of all the telegrams protruded from the pocket through the fur of the fur coat. The station looked like a huge pheonite ball molded from dirty plasticine. Bright and clear, the door leading to the sky fell into the void.

Leaning against the cold wall, she studied the railway ticket window, where the crowd was choking, and thought only that she wanted to smoke, she just wanted to smoke like crazy, drawing bitter frosty air into both nostrils. It was impossible to walk, it was only necessary to stand, watching the crowd, leaning against the cold wall with your shoulder, squinting your eyes from the stink that was familiar to your eyesight. All stations are similar to one another, like fallen gray stars, floating in clouds of alien eyes with a cluster of habitual undeniable miasms. All stations are the same.

Clouds - other people's eyes. This was by far the most important.

The telegram said "don't come". So there was no need to look for confirmation of what he was going to do. In a narrow passage, a trampled, drunken bum fell out from under someone's feet, fell right under her feet. Exceptionally carefully she crawled along the wall so as not to touch the edge of a long fur coat. Someone pushed me in the back. I turned around. It seemed that she wanted to say something, but she could not do anything, and so, unable to say anything, she froze, forgetting that she wanted to smoke because the thought was fresher. The idea that decisions can gnaw at the brain just like half-smoked (in the snow) cigarettes gnaw. Where there was pain, there were red, inflamed dots, carefully hidden under the skin. She ran her hand, trying to cut off the most inflamed part, but nothing happened, and the red dots ached more and more painfully, more and more, leaving behind anger, like a red-hot broken lantern in a familiar pheonite ball.

Sharply pushing a part of the wall away from her, she crashed into the line, professionally throwing all the baggers away with confident elbows. The arrogance caused a friendly opening of the mouths of battered ticket dealers. She pressed herself against the window, afraid that she would not be able to say anything again, but she did, and where her breath fell on the glass, the window became damp.

“One before… for today.”

- And in general?

- I said no.

A sound wave of voices struck at the feet, someone vigorously tore the fur side, and very close by the disgusting onion stench of someone's hysterical mouth hit the nostrils - so indignant masses righteously tried to take it away from the railway ticket window.

“I may have a certified telegram.

- Go to another window.

- Well, look - one ticket.

- Are you kidding me, damn you ...., - said the cashier, - do not delay the queue ... you ..., moved away from the cash register!

The fur coat was no longer torn, the sound wave that beat the legs went to the floor. She pushed open the heavy door that went up to the sky and went out to where the frost immediately dug into her face with sharpened vampire teeth. Past the eyes (the eyes of others) floated endless night stations. They shouted after them - along the taxi ranks. Of course, she did not understand a word. It seemed to her that she had forgotten all languages ​​for a very long time, and around through the aquarium walls, before reaching her, human sounds disappear, taking the colors existing in the world with them. The walls were down to the very bottom, not missing a bygone symphony of color. The telegram read "don't come, circumstances have changed." The perfect semblance of tears dried on the eyelashes, which did not reach the cheeks in the vampire frost. These tears disappeared without appearing, completely and immediately, only inside, under the skin, leaving a dull hardened pain, like a drained swamp. She took out a cigarette and a lighter (shaped like a colored fish) from her purse and inhaled deeply the smoke, suddenly stuck in her throat in a heavy and bitter lump. She drew the smoke into herself until the hand holding the cigarette turned into a stump of wood, and when the transformation happened, the cigarette butt fell down by itself, like a huge shooting star reflected in the velvet black sky. Someone pushed again, fir-tree needles caught on the edge of the fur coat and fell on the snow, and once the needles fell, she turned around. Ahead, in a hare mark, loomed a broad male back with a Christmas tree attached to its shoulder, which danced a fantastic funny dance on its back. The back went quickly and with each step went further and further, and then only needles remained on the snow. Frozen (afraid to breathe), she looked at them for a very long time, the needles looked like small lights, and when artificial light lit up in her eyes, she suddenly saw that the light coming from them was green. It was very fast, and then - nothing at all, only the pain, squeezed by the speed, returned to its original place. It stinged in the eyes, spun in place, the brain shrank and inside someone said distinctly clearly and clearly “two days before the New Year”, and immediately there was no air, there was a bitter smoke hidden in the chest deep as well as in her throat . Black, like melted snow, a number floated up and something knocked down, carried away through the snow, but not in one place, somewhere - from people to people.

- Yes, stop, you ... - from the side, someone's heavy breathing gave off a full set of fusel oils. Turning around, under a knitted hat, she saw fox eyes.

How long can you run after you?

Did someone run after her? Nonsense. It has never been like this in this world. There was everything, except for the two poles - life and death, in complete abundance.

- Did you ask for a ticket until ...?

- Let's admit it.

- So I have.

- How.

- From you as from my own - I'll give it for 50.

- Yeah go..

- Well, a miserable 50 bucks, I give it to you as a native - so take Schaub ...

- Yeah, one, for today, even the bottom place.

She held the ticket up to the lantern.

- Yes, it is true, in kind, do not doubt it.

The guy crunched, twisted a banknote of 50 dollars into the light.

- A train at 2 o'clock in the morning.

- I know.

- Okay.

He melted into space, as people who do not repeat themselves in daylight melt. "Don't come, circumstances have changed."

She chuckled. His face was blurred with a white spot on the floor with a cigarette butt stuck to his eyebrow. It protruded from under the sleepy lowered eyelids, and, fitting into the dirty circle, it called far, farther and farther. Where it was, the sharp corners of the chair crushed the body. Voices merged in my ears somewhere in the forgotten world behind me. Sleepy cobwebs enveloped even facial curves with non-existent warmth. She tilted her head down, trying to leave, and only her face was blurred with a dirty white spot in the station tiles. That night she was no longer herself. Someone born and someone dead changed in a way that could not be imagined. Without falling anywhere, she turned her face away from the floor, where the station lived at night, not subject to consideration of life. At about one in the morning the phone rang in one of the apartments.

- Where are you?

- I'm leaving.

- You've decided.

He sent a telegram. One.

Will he even wait for you? And then the address...

- I have to go - there it is, in the telegram.

- Will you come back?

- Come what may.

What if you wait a couple of days?

“That makes absolutely no sense.

– Will you change your mind?

- There is no other way out.

- No need to go to him. No need.

- I can't hear well - hissing in the receiver, but you still speak.

- What should I say?

- Anything. As you wish.

- Satisfied, huh? There is no other such idiot on earth!

There are two days left until the new year.

“At least you stayed for the holiday.

- I'm chosen.

Nobody chose you.

- Does not matter.

- Do not leave. You don't have to go there, do you hear?

Short beeps blessed her path, and through the glass of a telephone booth inside the sky blackened the stars. She thought that she was gone, but it was terrible to think about it for a long time.

The train was moving slowly. The carriage windows glowed dimly, and a lamp burned dimly in the reserved seat aisle. Leaning her head against the plastic of the train partition reflecting the ice, she waited for everything to go away and the darkness outside the window to be washed away by those tears that do not dry up without appearing in the eyes. Glasses that had not been washed for a long time trembled with a small, painful trembling. The back of my head hurt from plastic ice. Somewhere inside, a small, chilly animal was whining. “I don’t want…” a small, tired, sick animal was crying somewhere inside, “I don’t want to go anywhere, I don’t want to, Lord, do you hear…”

Glasses shattered with a small, painful tremor in time with the train. “I don’t want to leave ... the little beast cried, - nowhere at all ... I don’t want to go anywhere ... I want to go home ... I want to go home to my mother ... "

The telegram said "don't come". This meant that the choice was not to stay. It seemed to her: together with the train, she was rolling down the slimy walls of a frozen ravine, with melted snowflakes on her cheeks and Christmas tree needles in the snow, down to the most hopeless bottom, where the frozen windows of the former rooms shine with electricity in such a homely way and where false words that there are windows on earth, to which, leaving everything, you can still return ... she trembled, her teeth knocked out trembling where the fast train wheezed in agony. Shriveling, she thought of the Christmas tree needles stuck in the snow, and that the telegram said "don't come," and that two days remained before the New Year, and that one day (it warmed with painful artificial warmth) the day would come when there would be no need to go anywhere else. drive. Like an old sick beast, the train howled along the rails that happiness was the simplest thing on earth. Happiness is when there is no road.

Red flower

She hugged her shoulders, enjoying the perfect velvety skin. Then she slowly stroked her hair with her hand. Cold water is a miracle. The eyelids have become the same, not retaining a single trace of what .... That she had cried all night the day before. Everything was washed away by the water, and it was possible to safely move forward. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror: “I am beautiful!” Then she waved her hand dismissively.

She walked through the corridor and ended up where she was supposed to be. She took a glass of champagne from the tray, not forgetting to give a sparkling smile to neither the waiter nor those who were around. Champagne seemed disgusting to her, and a terrible bitterness immediately froze on her bitten lips. But of those present, who filled the great hall, no one would have guessed this. She really liked herself from the outside: a lovely woman in an expensive evening dress drinks exquisite champagne, enjoying every sip.

Of course he was there all the time. He reigned, surrounded by his servile subjects, in the heart of a large banquet hall. A secular lion, with unconstrained charm, strictly watching his crowd. Has everyone come - those who should come? Is everyone charmed - those who should be charmed? Is everyone scared and depressed—those who should be scared and depressed? A proud look from under slightly shifted eyebrows said that was all. He was half-sitting in the center of the table, surrounded by people, and, above all, beautiful women. Most people who met him for the first time were fascinated by his ingenuous, endearing appearance, his simplicity and ostentatious good nature. He seemed to them an ideal - an oligarch who keeps himself so simple! Almost like an ordinary person, like his own. But only those who came closer to him or those who dared to ask him for money knew how a formidable lion's paw protruded from under the external softness, capable of tearing the culprit with a slight movement of a formidable palm.

She knew all his gestures, his words, movements and habits. She kept in her heart every wrinkle of his, like a treasure. Years brought him money and confidence in the future, he met them proudly, like an ocean flagship. There were too many other people in his life to notice her. Occasionally, he noticed her new wrinkles or folds on her body.

- Honey, you can't do that! You need to take care of yourself! Look in the mirror! With my money... I heard a new beauty salon has opened...

- From whom did you hear?

He was not embarrassed:

– Yes, a new and very good one has opened! Go there. And then you will soon look at all your forty-five! And I can't even go out with you.

He was not shy about demonstrating his knowledge of cosmetics or fashion. On the contrary, he emphasized: “You see how young people love me!” He was always surrounded by this very "enlightened" golden youth. On either side of him sat two owners of the last titles. One is Miss City, the other is Miss Charm, the third is the face of a modeling agency that dragged its wards to any presentation where there could be at least one earning more than 100 thousand dollars a year. The fourth was a new one - she had not seen her before, but just as vicious, mean and arrogant as everyone else. Perhaps this impudence had even more, and she noted to herself that this one would go far. That girl was half-sitting in front of him right on the banquet table, coquettishly putting her pen on his shoulder, and burst into loud laughter in response to his words, with her whole appearance expressing a greedy predatory grip under the mask of naive carelessness. Women always occupied the first places in his environment. The men crowded behind.

Clutching the glass in her hand, she seemed to read her thoughts on the surface of the golden drink. Flattering, ingratiating smiles accompanied her around her - after all, she was a wife. She was his wife for a long time, so long that he always emphasized it, which means she also owned the main role.

Cold water is a miracle. She no longer felt her swollen eyelids. Someone hit her with an elbow:

- Ah. Expensive! - it was a friend, the minister's wife, - you look great! You are a wonderful couple, I always envy you! It's so great to live more than 20 years and maintain such ease in a relationship! Look at each other always. Ah, wonderful!

Looking up from her annoying chatter, she really caught his eye on herself. He looked at her and it was like bubbles in champagne. She smiled her most charming smile, thinking that he deserves a chance…. He did not get up when she approached, and the girls did not even think of leaving when she appeared.

Are you having fun, dear?

- Yes honey. Everything is fine?

- Wonderful! And you have?

“I'm very happy for you, dear.

Their dialogue did not go unnoticed. Surrounding thought "what a lovely couple!". And the journalists present at the banquet noted to themselves that it is necessary to mention in the article that the oligarch has such a wonderful wife.

“Darling, would you mind a few words?”

Taking her by the arm, he led her away from the table.

Have you finally calmed down?

- What do you think?

“I think it’s bad to worry at your age!”

“Let me remind you that I am the same age as you!”

- It's different for men!

– Is that how?

Let's not start over! I'm already tired of your stupid fiction that I had to give you flowers today! I have so many things to do, I spin like a squirrel in a wheel! You should have thought about it! It was possible not to cling to me with any nonsense! I wanted flowers - go buy yourself, order, but buy at least a whole store, just leave me alone - that's all!

She smiled her most charming smile.

“Yes, I don’t even remember, dear!

- Truth? - he was delighted, - and I was so angry when you clung to me with these flowers! I have so much to do, and you climbed with all sorts of nonsense!

- It was a little female whim.

“Darling, remember: little female whims are allowed only for young beautiful girls, like those who are sitting next to me!” And it only annoys you!

I will remember, my love. Don't be angry, don't be nervous because of such trifles!

"It's good that you're so smart!" I'm lucky with my wife! Listen, dear, we will not be returning back together. The chauffeur will pick you up when you're tired. And I'll go myself, in my car, I have some business .... And do not wait for me today, I will not come to spend the night. I'll be there for dinner tomorrow. And even then, maybe I'll have lunch at the office, and not return home.

– Am I going alone? Today?!

“God, what is today?” Why are you getting on my nerves all day long?

“Yeah, I take up so little space in your life…

- Yes, what does this have to do with it! You take up a lot of space, you're my wife! And I take you everywhere with me! So don't start!

- Okay, I'll stop. I did not want.

- That's good! You don't want anything anymore!

And, chuckling, he turned back, where too many more important people were waiting impatiently. From his point of view, persons than a wife. She smiled. Her smile was wonderful. It was an expression of happiness—great happiness that cannot be contained! Returning to the bathroom again and locking the doors tightly behind her, she took out a small mobile phone.

- I confirm. After half an hour.

In the hall, she again lavished smiles - demonstrating (and she did not need to demonstrate, so she felt) a huge surge of happiness. Those were the happiest moments - moments of anticipation... So, beaming, she slipped out into the narrow corridor near the service entrance, from where the exit was clearly visible, clung to the window. Half an hour later familiar figures appeared in the narrow doors. It was her husband's two bodyguards, and her husband. Her husband hugging a brand new girl. And kissing - on the go. Everyone hurried to the black shiny Mercedes - the last acquisition of the spouse, which cost 797 thousand dollars. He loved expensive cars. Loved very much.

The doors swung open, the dark inside of the car swallowing them completely. The guards stayed outside. One of them was talking on the radio, probably warning those at the entrance that the car was already coming.

The explosion resounded with deafening force, destroying the illumination of the hotel, trees and windows. Everything was mixed up: screams, roar, ringing. Fiery flames that shot up to the very sky licked the mangled body of the Mercedes, turned into a huge funeral pyre.

She hugged her shoulders and automatically smoothed her hair, enjoying the inner voice: “I gave you the most beautiful red flower! Happy wedding day, dear."