Metamorphosis-1. Sensation of the Woman. Georgy Stenkin
a hotel room with the number 1244. And that I wandered into this restaurant quite by accident…
And then a place was vacated behind the bar, next to her.
– Will you allow?
I approached her.
And tried to portray with my whole body – the desire to sit on this place behind the bar.
– Nooo.
It sounded.
It’s impossible. This word – sounds different, but from her – it cannot sound. She doesn’t let me sit next to her? Or – does she not understand my question? What – no?
Foreigner?
An alien?
An other galaxian??
So. So. Calmly.
The fact is that the first time I asked her a question, as if asking permission to squeeze past her in the midst of a maelstrom of bodies, but in reality – there was no such need. It was a ruse. I could calmly go through without hitting her. But in order not to leave a chance to disturb her, and cause a «fire» of her attention, I turned to her with this stupid question.
She – and did not move away, and did not nod to me, and did not utter – not a word. Maybe she really doesn’t understand the elementary French language? And now – she can’t figure out what I really want from her?
Yes…
The challenge.
Well then…
Let’s start dancing.
And I began to babble something and with all my accessible gestures and gestures indicate that I want to sit down here – next to her. He lifted his hands to the sky and pressed them to his heart, hugged this stupid chair and made generally ridiculous movements.
AND…
Oh miracle!
She held out her hand – with a permissive gesture and said:
– Daa.
I was happy…
Music thundered, during these few minutes, while I was portraying the ritual or mating dances of the baboons, they pushed me in the back and side, and walked along my left leg. The bartender persistently asked something, one – then the other. I did not understand anything and did not listen to what was happening, like something real.
She let me sit next to her! She understood me!
…
She was alone. And only now I was able to pay attention to her appearance, and to the fact that in her left hand she was holding some wine glass with a tube sticking out of it.
And what a black skirt. And what – a silvery matte blouse. And what is my shoe!!!
It was her!
It’s that shoe itself, on that very foot…
Which so insidiously left me. And here I am again – next to her.
Is there something you need to do? Somehow you need to consolidate the success. Outline the motion vector.
But what is it?
She leans forward a little, lowers her hand almost to the floor…
I don’t see, it’s dark there – the glare of the spotlights does not reach their queues until this darkness – under her feet. Under our feet.
How!
I died!
I am in heaven!
This is a supernova explosion!
I need a break. Give me a moment to catch my breath…
…
She completely threw off the very shoe that swayingly bewitched on her fingers, just a few minutes ago, and the contemplation of which absorbed all my attention.
AND…
You can’t even imagine what happened next.
Miracle.
And she put it on my knee, fished out of the darkness and straightened in my direction – her leg…
In that very weightless stocking…
I was struck by a current discharge, by force – probably…
Crazy power.
How would you describe it more colorful?
Imagine that you are sitting by the fire, somewhere on the edge of the field, at the very beginning of the forest looming over you. Night…
A full sky of stars, as if cast over a whole world – a bedspread with interweaving of drawings. Capricorn, Dipper, Sagittarius… And – who else is there? You are fascinated to look at the plasma riot of fire, with a million languages – from dark red to dazzlingly sunny, licking each other, tossing about in one – led dance…
And suddenly, from there from the hellish inside of firebrands, logs and coals, a comet flies out and swiftly lands on your knee. Hissing, burning jeans fabric and instantly getting to your body.
You scream wildly and begin to jump around the bonfire in a frenzy of papuanism, trying to shake off this pain and this shock.
You didn’t happen – making your way in the jungle, under the drooping vines and big-leafed leaves of marvelous trees, you suddenly feel on your shoulder – a strange weight and coolness. Turning his head – to see that this is something with the thickness of your hand, stirs and tries to find balance on your shoulder. Snake. Awesome. Rather, only her tail.
Not?
Believe me then.
Something between the stinging coal from a fire in your lower leg and the deadly weight of the anaconda falling on your shoulder, something between these two crazies – I experienced now.
Though…
On my knee – lay of amazing beauty, weightless charm and radiating perfection itself – a female leg.
I could not take my eyes off the stocking penetrating through the darkness – the whiteness of the foot, the bulge of the ankle, and the bend… Bends…
The cloth rustled… It seemed that my hearing and my vision acquired the ability to focus right here – in this very place, completely ignoring all extraneous restaurant sounds and the fuss of the bodies around us.
The best friend of men.
Who do you think this is?
You’ll never guess.
The most reliable and never betraying friend of men is a cut on skirts and dresses.
We also have friends. Neckline, lace and transparent fabrics. And of course – fashion designers and designers. But this is all later. Our most important friend is «His Majesty the cut on the skirt.»
And this time – he also did not betray me. Opening, exposing, spreading the curtain…
And showing me the way. Direction. Vector.
On my knee – the beginning of the road lay, and now I could see the path – to the horizon.
But I could not sit in a daze, I was not in an art gallery. Next to me is a living woman.
And I had to raise my eyes…
She smiled. She played with me. She was testing me. She checked me.
She suggested that I go along an unknown path. And looked