Psychedelic fiction (Ch.2)
This is a continuation; start here .
When I woke up the next day the sun was already high. In general, I tend to sleep naked (significantly reduces the wear of the linen); naked the same, as if nothing had happened, I got out of bed and left the room. What was my surprise, when I suddenly collided with Alina, not having time to walk a few steps. Yes, yesterday's events I did not dream. She first looked at me, then began to smile and laugh, but I just gloomily waved my hand, not saying a word. I think in this gesture I combined my attitude towards the fact that she was naked and with yesterday’s history.
After a while I was already sitting in the kitchen, fully dressed. Alina was in a bathrobe and even looked good without makeup and swollen.
“This robe goes with you.”
- Thank.
- But I do not keep bathrobes for myself, women’s including.
“You're so suspicious ...”
- Well, you - I threw a smile - I just want to know where this beautiful dressing gown comes from.
- There is no more - she turned to me - there are no more such robes. Where were they?
- In China, there are no bathrobes?
- There are. There are no such dressing gowns there anymore - she comes up to me and gives me a hand in the floor of a dressing gown with a label. I look at the label and have to notice that this is indeed Germany. I don't let the robe down.
- And you, probably, give me a dressing gown in my hand, so that I jerked for him?
- And you yourself want to pull?
I do not have time to answer - a short bell rings at the gate. I declare that I will deal with this issue later; I wonder who it could be.
Before the gate I find an envelope and a sheet of paper pushed through the gate - I do not have a mailbox. I put them on the table, and Alina looks out from behind her back. She asks what it is, I just dryly point out the obvious things - an envelope with a letter and notification of the parcel. If the parcel has yet to be received, then the letter causes me considerable interest - what if it explains something about the madness with the girl? However, it would be strange to expect this - the letters do not deliver so quickly. The departure address on the envelope refers to the same city in which I live, but the street is unfamiliar to me. I get up, turn my face to Alina, move two steps away from her, lift the envelope to the level of my face and begin to print it. Suddenly, she quickly rushes to the envelope and tries to grab it. It was not there. It is enough for me to do what the children do when they do not want to give something to others - to take the extended hand with the envelope behind the back. Alina is making several more attempts to intercept the envelope from me, but they are naive and unsuccessful - I just take my hand a little to the side, and she cannot reach her goal. When she calms down I ask:
- And why do you need a letter addressed to me?
- I want you to print it.
- Thank. I myself ... Sit down - I point to a chair a few meters away. She reluctantly turns and sits on it. I am glancing at the girl, then at the envelope, I open the letter.
In the envelope folded three times A4 sheet. On the sheet printed text with a signature; illegible signature and text look rather lonely relative to the sheet. I run word for word and grin. I make a small circle around the room, read again, more carefully. Alina asks:
- Something interesting?
Judging by the intonation, her interest is far from being limited to mere curiosity.
- What do you want?
- Well, like this…
- Terribly interesting, you can die from mystery - I stretch her letter. She eagerly grabs a piece of paper. She reads, in appearance she is even a little surprised, although I do not believe her. I pull the letter from her back and look through it a third time. The text was as follows:
Dear <my name>!
On the one hand, we can congratulate you on your purchase. On the other hand, express the chagrin that it does not belong to the one who needs it. If you want to, as a good person, share, we will always be glad to see you.
Sincerely.
- Twice respect ...
- And who wrote it?
- I actually thought to ask you, maybe you know.
In response, she slowly shakes her head. Probably lies. And surely he knows everything.
Well, at least in coffee, I will not refuse. Alina offers something to cook, but the second time in a day I wave my hand. I can run for most of the day on sweet coffee. Yes, and I can not wait to find out what's in the package.
- What, some rice with vegetables would cook?
- Yes Dear.
- I don't eat that.
I filled out the form, got dressed, and now I'm pushing the girl so she is ready too. I noticed that she was wearing makeup - there is nothing strange in the fact that she does not have makeup on her, but I never had cosmetics at home. I could ask about its origin, but again I would get a meaningless play on words. Externally, Alina is not eager to go, or pretends. But here I’ll not leave her alone.
- Are you ready?
- Yes now.
- Where is your coat by the way? - she thinks.
- On a hanger, probably, left.
- I will bring - this is an opportunity to rummage around in my pockets, although I do not hope for anything exceptional. The probability of finding something interesting is negligible because it is not a handbag; By the way, about the purse. Alina did not have her yesterday, at least I did not carry her with a girl with a handbag.
From this point of view, to find something interesting is better, but on the other hand, the appearance of a bathrobe and cosmetics speaks about something. I squeeze the thick fabric of the coat. It seems nothing in two pockets, but in the third there is something. For some time, it takes me to unbutton a button - I reach into my pocket and pull out a lighter from there. Disappointing. The lighter, although a black zippo with the texture of a cracked surface, can’t say anything. I put the lighter back, fastening the pocket. I have another pocket, nothing. There are two internal and then suddenly luck. I already feel a subject that is very familiar to me by touch, which can be mistaken for a piece of cardboard. Zip pocket, unzip it and pull out the passport. Yes, I myself, when I need to carry a passport in my pocket and know perfectly well what it feels like to touch, the premonition did not deceive me and I was lucky. A moment and I will open the passport, but then his hand is rapidly grabbing. Alina's hand. I look at her, she at me, I only gloomily notice:
- Fell out.
I let go of her fingers, and she takes it.
- And this is not my chance? And then I often lose all documents at home.
The girl opens the passport at the height of her eyes, looks into it, and answers me flirtatiously:
- No, no. Passport is not yours.
I help her put on her coat, she puts the passport in her inside pocket. Something is already there. But now for the parcel to the post office.
It is immediately obvious that I did not order this package. I usually order parcels to another post office which is much smaller and always empty, although nearby. But this is typical of a post office insanity, although it may be that I am impressed. In each window there is a queue of 10 people, some more retirees sitting at the tables nearby. Perhaps they set up a club here because lively talk. Grandmothers are tightly wrapped in headscarves and buttoned up in their wadded jackets to the last button, although it is more than 10 degrees outside, and the heat in the room is hot. In this unbearable setting, I stand in line. Alina is spinning somewhere nearby, I see how she buys an envelope (they are sold out of turn). Very interesting. However, it seems that the queue does not act depressingly on her, she even gently hangs on my elbow for some time. I'm hot, stuffy, I can not stand still, waiting for the turn to come. Someone did not receive the parcel, although he is waiting for her, someone cannot choose between the box and the package, next to it, in another window, the retirees pay utility bills. Finally, a woman beside unloads a whole pile of small bundles, each of which is to be packaged in a postal package and weighed. A postal worker gives her a stamp with a wave of her hand and gives her the very one to stamp and weigh. I already doubt if I need a parcel, how suddenly the question is “to whom to receive? Who to get for free? Finally. I draw the form and passport. They give me a parcel which turns out to be a heavy box of medium size; I received the package in a matter of minutes, although I stood in the queue for about 20 minutes. I take the box with both hands, quickly walk to the exit, at this time Alina tries to ask me if I want to check the package. I am silent; already on the street she repeats her question. I get up and sigh, no.
She puts her hands on the box.
- Well, aren't you interested in what's there?
“No,” I answer coldly.
- A little bit, a little bit?
I shrug - I do find out anyway. Soon. Is not it?
I shake the box - nothing in weight and sound can be said, there can be anything. I am already turning around, as a guy or a schoolboy approaches me - now the school is finished later than I once did. I give him a tired look:
- I will not give anything.
“And ... I ... yes no - these words of mine were obviously unexpected for him - I am not at all behind that. Yes, and I would not ask you anything.
- Well, then why?
“You see, they asked me to pass it to you — he stretches a folded and wrinkled piece of paper to me. I have to put the box on the ground to take the sheet. Without reading, I ask:
- How do you know what it is for me?
- Well, the description you have it. Although ... - he is clearly embarrassed and perhaps horrified by the thought of him - maybe not you? Your name is <he calls my name and surname>?
- And even if not? Well, let's say I am not this person, but I want to receive this note - then I’ll just say yes and that's it.
- But the clothes - you are dressed and how they talked to you and yours - yours, right? - a girl. I was told that you will be a girl.
I look at Alina and in time, because the box is in her hands, and the girl is already carefully examining her. I silently take the box back, put it on the ground in front of me.
- Well, yes, girl. Alyn, do you know this young man?
Alina even leans slightly in his direction, then shakes her head sharply.
- And he knows you.
- No, no, you, I don't know the girl.
- Then why are you sure that I and ... and my girlfriend - after these words, Alina pleasantly hugs my elbow and presses against him - those who you need?
- So they told me?
- Who?
- That I should not say.
- Then can I go to the police and say that you are watching?
- Yes, I do not watch, for the first time I see you today!
- But for some reason he unmistakably recognized ... us.
- But because I was told how you should look!
I pause.
- Come on, tell me who and what you said about me.
- Yes, it is not a secret especially.
- Exactly.
- Well, in general, I work as a courier. Parcels are usually attributed to those who do not want a long time in the mail in the queue ...
- Well?
- And I took the parcel delivered half an hour ago and the one to whom I gave it ... well, in general, he offered me a little that I gave you a note.
- And what, described me?
- Well yes.
- How exactly?
“Well, in half an hour you’ll leave this post office or something like that.” You will have a medium box in your hand. With you girl.
- Anything else?
- Well, yes, your appearance and clothes - he thought - you have light brown hair and a short haircut with a shaved part of the head, the girl - he squinted at Alina - straight hair, she is blonde. You have an open black coat and a striped sweater on you ...
- Ok, I understand, I know how I look. So who and where did you say that?
- Who can I not tell you, I can not ... - he looked at me exhausted - do you understand? But if you ask me for the address I can tell you.
From the pocket of his jacket, he pulls out a notebook, scrolls through it, rewrites a couple of lines on a clean sheet that he pulls out and pulls me.
- Anything else tell?
- No, I was already late. I don't know anything else.
I shove both papers without reading in my pocket, although Alina glances at them greedily.
Bringing the box home turned out to be more difficult than yesterday the girl on her shoulder - the parcel tires her hands and it is extremely inconvenient to carry her.
- I now have every day cargo transfer training - I say to the girl with a smile, sitting down and setting the box on the floor.
- Where are your scissors? - hardly something takes her now except the parcel.
I indicate the direction, and I take the paper out of my pocket. The first sheet came from the courier. A familiar address, maybe today I saw it on the envelope of the letter. Now a note. However, a note to call a full A4 sheet somehow the language does not turn. I read the following text:
Dear <my name>!
We kindly ask you NOT to open the goods you received at the post office. Whatever you do! Yes, and what's the point, because its content is known to all. Instead, why not discuss the exchange of your package for something you need. Come to her today, we will be glad to see you.
Like the text of the letter, this set of letters hardly says anything. Alina with scissors is announced here and is already leaning towards the box. But I say no and take the scissors from her hands. For a while I sit and look sadly at the sealed package.
- Do you really not want to know what is there?
- What is the point, because its contents are well known.
- How? - the girl seems to be taken aback.
- I do not know. Here - I stretch her a sheet of paper - it is written.
I take the package and carry it with me. Having rummaged, I find an empty box with the arms of the Post. Yes, the size is the same. It remains to load there something for weight. I think about it, and here I come to mind is a great option = the case from yesterday's 400W lamp. All the same, I only need a choke, a capacitor and an IZU. When I finish packing a new package Alina asks me:
“So will you change the boxes?”
- Yes.
- Are you even going to discover the real one?
Looking at her carefully. No, I am not going. At least for now.
Fake parcel is ready, it remains to carry it to the address. Maybe even there they will explain what's what. It's good that I already have the address in two copies. Although Alina eagerly glances at the real package, I don’t give her time to be alone with the box. I call and call a taxi, the car arrives in a couple of minutes. And in time, the weather deteriorates.
When I woke up the next day the sun was already high. In general, I tend to sleep naked (significantly reduces the wear of the linen); naked the same, as if nothing had happened, I got out of bed and left the room. What was my surprise, when I suddenly collided with Alina, not having time to walk a few steps. Yes, yesterday's events I did not dream. She first looked at me, then began to smile and laugh, but I just gloomily waved my hand, not saying a word. I think in this gesture I combined my attitude towards the fact that she was naked and with yesterday’s history.
After a while I was already sitting in the kitchen, fully dressed. Alina was in a bathrobe and even looked good without makeup and swollen.
“This robe goes with you.”
- Thank.
- But I do not keep bathrobes for myself, women’s including.
“You're so suspicious ...”
- Well, you - I threw a smile - I just want to know where this beautiful dressing gown comes from.
- There is no more - she turned to me - there are no more such robes. Where were they?
- In China, there are no bathrobes?
- There are. There are no such dressing gowns there anymore - she comes up to me and gives me a hand in the floor of a dressing gown with a label. I look at the label and have to notice that this is indeed Germany. I don't let the robe down.
- And you, probably, give me a dressing gown in my hand, so that I jerked for him?
- And you yourself want to pull?
I do not have time to answer - a short bell rings at the gate. I declare that I will deal with this issue later; I wonder who it could be.
Before the gate I find an envelope and a sheet of paper pushed through the gate - I do not have a mailbox. I put them on the table, and Alina looks out from behind her back. She asks what it is, I just dryly point out the obvious things - an envelope with a letter and notification of the parcel. If the parcel has yet to be received, then the letter causes me considerable interest - what if it explains something about the madness with the girl? However, it would be strange to expect this - the letters do not deliver so quickly. The departure address on the envelope refers to the same city in which I live, but the street is unfamiliar to me. I get up, turn my face to Alina, move two steps away from her, lift the envelope to the level of my face and begin to print it. Suddenly, she quickly rushes to the envelope and tries to grab it. It was not there. It is enough for me to do what the children do when they do not want to give something to others - to take the extended hand with the envelope behind the back. Alina is making several more attempts to intercept the envelope from me, but they are naive and unsuccessful - I just take my hand a little to the side, and she cannot reach her goal. When she calms down I ask:
- And why do you need a letter addressed to me?
- I want you to print it.
- Thank. I myself ... Sit down - I point to a chair a few meters away. She reluctantly turns and sits on it. I am glancing at the girl, then at the envelope, I open the letter.
In the envelope folded three times A4 sheet. On the sheet printed text with a signature; illegible signature and text look rather lonely relative to the sheet. I run word for word and grin. I make a small circle around the room, read again, more carefully. Alina asks:
- Something interesting?
Judging by the intonation, her interest is far from being limited to mere curiosity.
- What do you want?
- Well, like this…
- Terribly interesting, you can die from mystery - I stretch her letter. She eagerly grabs a piece of paper. She reads, in appearance she is even a little surprised, although I do not believe her. I pull the letter from her back and look through it a third time. The text was as follows:
Dear <my name>!
On the one hand, we can congratulate you on your purchase. On the other hand, express the chagrin that it does not belong to the one who needs it. If you want to, as a good person, share, we will always be glad to see you.
Sincerely.
- Twice respect ...
- And who wrote it?
- I actually thought to ask you, maybe you know.
In response, she slowly shakes her head. Probably lies. And surely he knows everything.
Well, at least in coffee, I will not refuse. Alina offers something to cook, but the second time in a day I wave my hand. I can run for most of the day on sweet coffee. Yes, and I can not wait to find out what's in the package.
- What, some rice with vegetables would cook?
- Yes Dear.
- I don't eat that.
I filled out the form, got dressed, and now I'm pushing the girl so she is ready too. I noticed that she was wearing makeup - there is nothing strange in the fact that she does not have makeup on her, but I never had cosmetics at home. I could ask about its origin, but again I would get a meaningless play on words. Externally, Alina is not eager to go, or pretends. But here I’ll not leave her alone.
- Are you ready?
- Yes now.
- Where is your coat by the way? - she thinks.
- On a hanger, probably, left.
- I will bring - this is an opportunity to rummage around in my pockets, although I do not hope for anything exceptional. The probability of finding something interesting is negligible because it is not a handbag; By the way, about the purse. Alina did not have her yesterday, at least I did not carry her with a girl with a handbag.
From this point of view, to find something interesting is better, but on the other hand, the appearance of a bathrobe and cosmetics speaks about something. I squeeze the thick fabric of the coat. It seems nothing in two pockets, but in the third there is something. For some time, it takes me to unbutton a button - I reach into my pocket and pull out a lighter from there. Disappointing. The lighter, although a black zippo with the texture of a cracked surface, can’t say anything. I put the lighter back, fastening the pocket. I have another pocket, nothing. There are two internal and then suddenly luck. I already feel a subject that is very familiar to me by touch, which can be mistaken for a piece of cardboard. Zip pocket, unzip it and pull out the passport. Yes, I myself, when I need to carry a passport in my pocket and know perfectly well what it feels like to touch, the premonition did not deceive me and I was lucky. A moment and I will open the passport, but then his hand is rapidly grabbing. Alina's hand. I look at her, she at me, I only gloomily notice:
- Fell out.
I let go of her fingers, and she takes it.
- And this is not my chance? And then I often lose all documents at home.
The girl opens the passport at the height of her eyes, looks into it, and answers me flirtatiously:
- No, no. Passport is not yours.
I help her put on her coat, she puts the passport in her inside pocket. Something is already there. But now for the parcel to the post office.
It is immediately obvious that I did not order this package. I usually order parcels to another post office which is much smaller and always empty, although nearby. But this is typical of a post office insanity, although it may be that I am impressed. In each window there is a queue of 10 people, some more retirees sitting at the tables nearby. Perhaps they set up a club here because lively talk. Grandmothers are tightly wrapped in headscarves and buttoned up in their wadded jackets to the last button, although it is more than 10 degrees outside, and the heat in the room is hot. In this unbearable setting, I stand in line. Alina is spinning somewhere nearby, I see how she buys an envelope (they are sold out of turn). Very interesting. However, it seems that the queue does not act depressingly on her, she even gently hangs on my elbow for some time. I'm hot, stuffy, I can not stand still, waiting for the turn to come. Someone did not receive the parcel, although he is waiting for her, someone cannot choose between the box and the package, next to it, in another window, the retirees pay utility bills. Finally, a woman beside unloads a whole pile of small bundles, each of which is to be packaged in a postal package and weighed. A postal worker gives her a stamp with a wave of her hand and gives her the very one to stamp and weigh. I already doubt if I need a parcel, how suddenly the question is “to whom to receive? Who to get for free? Finally. I draw the form and passport. They give me a parcel which turns out to be a heavy box of medium size; I received the package in a matter of minutes, although I stood in the queue for about 20 minutes. I take the box with both hands, quickly walk to the exit, at this time Alina tries to ask me if I want to check the package. I am silent; already on the street she repeats her question. I get up and sigh, no.
She puts her hands on the box.
- Well, aren't you interested in what's there?
“No,” I answer coldly.
- A little bit, a little bit?
I shrug - I do find out anyway. Soon. Is not it?
I shake the box - nothing in weight and sound can be said, there can be anything. I am already turning around, as a guy or a schoolboy approaches me - now the school is finished later than I once did. I give him a tired look:
- I will not give anything.
“And ... I ... yes no - these words of mine were obviously unexpected for him - I am not at all behind that. Yes, and I would not ask you anything.
- Well, then why?
“You see, they asked me to pass it to you — he stretches a folded and wrinkled piece of paper to me. I have to put the box on the ground to take the sheet. Without reading, I ask:
- How do you know what it is for me?
- Well, the description you have it. Although ... - he is clearly embarrassed and perhaps horrified by the thought of him - maybe not you? Your name is <he calls my name and surname>?
- And even if not? Well, let's say I am not this person, but I want to receive this note - then I’ll just say yes and that's it.
- But the clothes - you are dressed and how they talked to you and yours - yours, right? - a girl. I was told that you will be a girl.
I look at Alina and in time, because the box is in her hands, and the girl is already carefully examining her. I silently take the box back, put it on the ground in front of me.
- Well, yes, girl. Alyn, do you know this young man?
Alina even leans slightly in his direction, then shakes her head sharply.
- And he knows you.
- No, no, you, I don't know the girl.
- Then why are you sure that I and ... and my girlfriend - after these words, Alina pleasantly hugs my elbow and presses against him - those who you need?
- So they told me?
- Who?
- That I should not say.
- Then can I go to the police and say that you are watching?
- Yes, I do not watch, for the first time I see you today!
- But for some reason he unmistakably recognized ... us.
- But because I was told how you should look!
I pause.
- Come on, tell me who and what you said about me.
- Yes, it is not a secret especially.
- Exactly.
- Well, in general, I work as a courier. Parcels are usually attributed to those who do not want a long time in the mail in the queue ...
- Well?
- And I took the parcel delivered half an hour ago and the one to whom I gave it ... well, in general, he offered me a little that I gave you a note.
- And what, described me?
- Well yes.
- How exactly?
“Well, in half an hour you’ll leave this post office or something like that.” You will have a medium box in your hand. With you girl.
- Anything else?
- Well, yes, your appearance and clothes - he thought - you have light brown hair and a short haircut with a shaved part of the head, the girl - he squinted at Alina - straight hair, she is blonde. You have an open black coat and a striped sweater on you ...
- Ok, I understand, I know how I look. So who and where did you say that?
- Who can I not tell you, I can not ... - he looked at me exhausted - do you understand? But if you ask me for the address I can tell you.
From the pocket of his jacket, he pulls out a notebook, scrolls through it, rewrites a couple of lines on a clean sheet that he pulls out and pulls me.
- Anything else tell?
- No, I was already late. I don't know anything else.
I shove both papers without reading in my pocket, although Alina glances at them greedily.
Bringing the box home turned out to be more difficult than yesterday the girl on her shoulder - the parcel tires her hands and it is extremely inconvenient to carry her.
- I now have every day cargo transfer training - I say to the girl with a smile, sitting down and setting the box on the floor.
- Where are your scissors? - hardly something takes her now except the parcel.
I indicate the direction, and I take the paper out of my pocket. The first sheet came from the courier. A familiar address, maybe today I saw it on the envelope of the letter. Now a note. However, a note to call a full A4 sheet somehow the language does not turn. I read the following text:
Dear <my name>!
We kindly ask you NOT to open the goods you received at the post office. Whatever you do! Yes, and what's the point, because its content is known to all. Instead, why not discuss the exchange of your package for something you need. Come to her today, we will be glad to see you.
Like the text of the letter, this set of letters hardly says anything. Alina with scissors is announced here and is already leaning towards the box. But I say no and take the scissors from her hands. For a while I sit and look sadly at the sealed package.
- Do you really not want to know what is there?
- What is the point, because its contents are well known.
- How? - the girl seems to be taken aback.
- I do not know. Here - I stretch her a sheet of paper - it is written.
I take the package and carry it with me. Having rummaged, I find an empty box with the arms of the Post. Yes, the size is the same. It remains to load there something for weight. I think about it, and here I come to mind is a great option = the case from yesterday's 400W lamp. All the same, I only need a choke, a capacitor and an IZU. When I finish packing a new package Alina asks me:
“So will you change the boxes?”
- Yes.
- Are you even going to discover the real one?
Looking at her carefully. No, I am not going. At least for now.
Fake parcel is ready, it remains to carry it to the address. Maybe even there they will explain what's what. It's good that I already have the address in two copies. Although Alina eagerly glances at the real package, I don’t give her time to be alone with the box. I call and call a taxi, the car arrives in a couple of minutes. And in time, the weather deteriorates.
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