Into pieces
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– Yes, you’re right. Wish you good evening!
– Thanks, you too!
After this short, but pleasant conversation Lina put her boots on and went downstairs. It was late, so all the streets were dark and lonely, and it was a little bit sad for Lina to make her way to the bus station. Although the sky was cloudless and the snow was crackling under her feet, the wind was strong and piercing. The trees around were swinging, and pieces of rubbish were flying above the street. “The weather is conductive to work,” Lina thought with smile, “But I think it’s not so dangerous…And I just have to get to the station and then, nearby the inn I should pass only several buildings”. By chance, Lina didn’t have to wait for the bus; she managed to enter it before leaving, as usual. So she was joyful, sitting in warm transport and looking in the window. During her trip Lina thought about tomorrow that seemed to be the best day in her life. She imagined the piece of beautiful Christmas cake, decorated with sugar powder, nuts and peels, on the kitchen table. She even felt its delicious taste, sweet and spicy. Then Lina thought about her meeting with Garz, who, as she expected, would be very happy to see her. She dreamt of sitting in a small caf'e with him and talking about everything, about all the past years…
Then, there was the right station, and Lina had to alight. She didn’t want to leave this warm and comfortable bus, but there was no choice. So, Lina took her bag and walked along the street in the direction of inn. There was a high grey building in front of the girl, and it seemed to be even ominous from the opposite end of the street. But Lina didn’t pay any attention to this fact, because she was immersed in her thoughts as before. When Lina was passing this strange building, which was under reconstruction, the sudden gust of wind blew, and several bricks fell from the surface of the building straight on her head… Lina’s colleague, working in the inn, was waiting for the girl during two hours, because Lina was often late for work, but then she began to worry. Lina didn’t answer the mobile phone and there was no telephone in the hostel, where the girl lived with her roommates…
Everything became clear later …When the first aid arrived, the doctors understood that they couldn’t do anything…Two roommates were quietly sleeping in their beds and the promised piece of cake was waiting for Lina on the kitchen table… It was early morning, and Garz was sitting in the taxi, driving to the hotel with his young pretty girlfriend. While the car was passing the dark grey building, Garz suddenly saw the small open diary, lying in the mud of the lawn and some pencil drawings flying above the pavement. But there were no memories in his head
Short story #2. Le macaron.
There was a small bakery on the crossing of two winding Parisian streets. The windows of this cafe looked out at the wonderful park with the pond, covered with December snow, and several regular alleys of straight trees. There were only five round tables in the bakery and only three workers: one cook, one cleaner and one good-natured elderly woman, who carried out the duties of house-keeper, manager and waitress at the same time. By the way, July had been living in Paris for three years, after her leaving from Canada. She was fond of French culture and art, that’s why she started working as an arts critic in a small museum, and published one scandalous book about Claude Lorrain, in which July changed her real name for pseudonym. It was the right decision, because no one paid attention to this book, and only the members of Writers’ Union at regular intervals criticize her amazing manuscript. However, such consequences hadn’t changed July’s plans to publish the trilogy devoted to oil painting. So, every evening after her work the girl was sitting in the cozy bakery near the park and writing her next book.
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