Alexander Mantush - BLACK, RED, GOLD

8/12/2019 Alexander Mantush - BLACK, RED, GOLD

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Black, Red, Gold

by Alexander Mantush

Translated from Russian by Eugene Bakanovich and Simone McCrorey.

Go to another country, drive thousands of miles a tedious road ... for a single

glance at his beloved! Die in a car accident, visit the underworld and rise again ...

just to be by her side! This is only a small part of what the heart is a man in love

a musician, race car driver and an incorrigible romantic Alexander McNeil.

The author puts us string of events taking place with the main character his friends

throughout the story, in which there are also love drama, adventure and fun, a little

mystery, and of course, humor.

Special thanks:

Tatiana Scriptchenko, Zlata Derbysheva, Simone McCrorey, Eugene Bakanovich,

Alex Avdoteiko, Helen Petrenko, and Alexander Nikitin.

Authors note: Novel Black, Red, Gold. is a part of miscellanea VadeMecuum consisting of four independent stories (Umbram Suam Metuit,Idiosyncratic Humanism, Black, Red, Gold, and Ticket to the sky)with every novel related to each other. Theres only one novelpublished due to expensiveness of the translation, editing anddistribution. So if youll like the novel, and would like to know theoverall story, please, support this book, giving the author ability tocomplete the translation of Vade Mecuum .

Cover design by Alexander Mantush.


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CONTENTS

Interlude 4

Chapter 1: Black 5

Chapter 2: Red 17

Chapter 3: Golden 35

Epilogue 46


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The chance rules half of ouractions, we rule the rest.

Niccolo Machiavelli

Most people would like better to die,than to think. In fact, this is what happens.

Bertrand Russell

What steals the youth, heals the soul, and destroys civilization? This is

fake gold of life time. What makes for good and evil, virtue and vice, but

obscures the mind? This is the scarlet thread of life our feelings. What makes us

go forth for our dreams to come true sometimes? This is black velvet of life our

pain, for our success to stand out on this black velvet as white pearls. But what is

common among difficulties, feeling, and time? What is simultaneously gold, red

and black? Sweet, salty and bitter. Inspiring, frustrating and depressing. You can

philosophize for a long time, you can argue long, and you can think about it for

long, you can not philosophize at all, nor to argue and not to think. But only one

answer appears in the end, and this answer is love, of course, love.

Really, how can you know, where is your half, destined for you by heaven s

will? This is the place where you shouldn t make any mistakes or you may be

confused with where is the red, where is black and where is gold. How do you find

the right answer? Perhaps no one will tell, and you ll have to learn it by yourself.

Only it is necessary to remember that accidents do not happen. In the sense, of

course, they do occur, but their effects are more powerful than that that has been

thoroughly planned out. And so I suppose, you really should think. And to think

really well, I would even say carefully think about all this.

What will happen, if you won t think about accidents? Anything can happen.

Anything at all.


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CHAPTER 1: BLACK

Night, love and wine

are not counselors ...Ovid

O weakness! Your name is young and decent girl.

William Shakespeare

The long tedious road is behind us. I was sitting in my old trusty car in front

of the house of my love. In a foreign country, thousands of miles away from home.

I do not remember which amount of cigarettes I smoked, but I still couldn t dare to

get out of the car and move towards the unknown. It was dark, I ve ran out of

smokes, was very hungry, and besides, mother nature got the upper hand I really

should pay a visit to the toilet. At the end of the street was a cafe, which could

satisfy all my needs. Paused for a breath, I finally got out of the car and quietly

walked down the street towards the cherished buildings. What the hell did I forget

in here anyway? Will she be happy to see me? First I broke anything I possibly

could and now I am arriving at her doorstep with nothing but a hello. What was I

thinking, coming here like this? I entered the cafe and ordered the first hot dish in

the menu, a cup of espresso and five packs of Camel . While all of this was being

prepared, (all but cigarettes, of course) and I having no idea how long I'll be

waiting here like a moron sitting in my Fiat, I took a table at the back of the cafe

close to the Relaxation Room just in case. After I had my supper, and ordered

the third cup of coffee, I was suddenly shocked by what came before my eyes: the

door of the cafeteria flew open, and Tilly the love of my miserable life, appeared

in the doorway. My dream-girl, who eclipsed my fevered mind, left me to

arbitrariness of my feelings and emotions. I wanted to jump from my place, run to

her, hug, kiss and tell about how I missed her.... But, it was like I was literally

rooted to the chair, head felt dizzy, my tongue became wooden, and the heart


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started pounding like a kick-drum in the heavy metal song. I could only sit there

and greedily devour her with adoring eyes. You idiot! Reap your scrawny ass from

this chair and run to her! Run! Come on, you waited almost five years to meet her,

and now she can just disappear again! Stand up, goddammit! screamed my

inner voice, but the body could not obey, only my hand with a cup helplessly

landed on table.

I continued to sit in a trance and my eyes behold her with the basset hound

joy. Damn it! I still love her; it still feels like some kind of pain in my stomach to

be without her, I still miss her low hoarse voice, barely perceptible smile and her

hair that smells so fantastic. In some six or eight meters from me, my whole worldwas sitting at the bar and my trembling hand could barely lift the cup from the

table. Finally, when I took some control over myself and found the strength to

break away from the chair in a daring attempt to approach her, a young dark-haired

man entered the caf, came up to Tilly, embraced her shoulders and kissed her. I

stopped in a stupid position, half-rising from a chair, and for twenty seconds I

couldn t decide whether I stand up (go to her, and mayb e even hit this bastard sface) or shrink back. The last vestiges of reason, fear of the unknown and the

bitterness of resentment did their job I prostrate, obediently sank back into my

chair and looked down into half-full cup of coffee. Idiot! What kind of idiot I am!

Was it worth it going devil-knows-where, just to give up on the very first

moments of exposure to foreign land! Immediately losing, what was so hard to

find. Well, that's just my luck: either a dumb shark or no whistle. Know this joke?

Plane lands on water due to damage. The sea its landing is full of sharks, so

the stewardesses distribute anti-shark whistles. Every passenger waits for his and

one man is going to the exit.

Aren t you afraid the shark attack? Asks one passenger.

Yes, I am afraid of the shark attack. Answers the man.


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But why you re not waiting for the whistle? Asks passenger

I know my luck, man, said the man. Either the shark will be deaf,

or whistles will end just before me.

Pretty much my story, don t you think so?

I silently covered Tilly with my gaze, paid for the order, sat for some more

in the cafe (maybe fifteen minutes, but it could be an hour, because I stopped

noticing), then as a scalded ran into the street.

My eyes were blurred, legs, and all by themselves carried me to the house ofthe only one, whose image didn t allow me to sleep for last six years. Running up

to the door, I suddenly pulled back, the only thought hovering in my head: What

if she d oesn t care about me at all? What if everything was done in vain and I ve

been stuck here for nothing?

Several times, while dashing between the door of my beloved and street

(imagine how stupid it looked), I noticed Tilly in one of the windows, who was

for all this time watching my foolish behavior. I stood still, closed my eyes,

counted to ten, opened my eyes again, but she was not there. Well, she probably

guessed why I came, and most of all, she just doesn t care about me one bit. I

turned around and, morally destroyed, went to the car.

After starting my Fiat s Panda engine, I lit a cigarette and was about to go

back home, when I was shocked again: the door of her house opened, and beholds,

Tilly in the flesh, ran out of the house. She ran from the house to the car, and

knocked in the car s window, and then she muttered:

Alex, how do you think I should understand this? What was it back there?

What should I think, eh? What does it mean?


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thing for which I arrived. I'm really sorry about that meeting, I was angry that you

completely ignored my confession, and then, when I said, that you shouldn t be

concerned about this stupid letter and forgive me, and suddenly you just exploded.

That's all!?

Do not interrupt me now! I want to tell you, that you are very important to

me, was important for all this years, was important, when I confessed my feelings,

and is important now.

There was a silent pause. After some hesitation, I continued:

I ... love you ... I love you, I muttered.

What? Trembling, with even some gentle and warm voice repeated Tilly.

What did you just said?

I love you. I loved you for all these years, I love you now, and will love,

even when...

Tilly suddenly gave me a slap in the face which stopped me on the mid-

sentence.

Get out! All the same tremulous voice said the girl, starting to cry, Get

out of here now!

Say what you will I looked down hell if somebody could understand

you women!

I sat in the car and pushed on the accelerator . I wasn t ex pecting such a turn

of events. This incident could be interpreted as an insult for indecision and

vagueness of the maiden who is deeply in love with me, or as a rejection of hateful

bitchy hag. In any case, this was the worst moment of all my stupid life. Yes, I wassomehow wrong before, but not so wrong! Why couldn t she simply say, Get the


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hell away, freak I do not love you, or vice versa. And I love you too, Sandro!

Why does she always need to further complicate the already complex

relationships?

I was driving home. As far away from here, as I could, though I did not want

to leave at all, I wanted to think that all of this is just a bad joke, a bad dream or

something like that, that will disappear by itself in the morning. But, alas, it wasn t

a dream it was darn unfortunate reality in which a familiar place was prepared for

me a place of an outsider.

The road led me out of town and meanders like a snake, back away to the

south-east, carrying my ass off of the places, hated by my heart. Overtaking

vehicles left only the clouds of fog, through which I could barely distinguish only

the glow of their backlights. You know, I like the road. The road is a symbol of

the movement, a symbol of life. Dum spiro, spero I hope, till I breath, how the

ancient Latin proverb says. If not for hunger, sleep, or Mother Nature s needs, I

would ve spent th e rest of my life like this, driving by vast expanses of our planet,

somewhere as far away from her, as I could.

After some sharp turns, the road carried me in the direction of my native

Scottish snows. There is nothing more beautiful than a sunny winter day in my

native Caledonia: between dense white blanket-covered trees, the earth looks like a

blank sheet of paper. Unblemished virgin matter, calling for us to create; to create

only the good, the purity and the beauty; In the sun snow sparkles like glitteringdiamonds, frost bites face, and the bright sun is so worm and a little blinding. And

there's nothing better than to admire this magnificence with a loved one. Damn it!

Even now, being angry at her, I still romanticize her image. She is the only one, I

can think of.

Every day, when going out to outside world, I am seeking her volens nolens

(that mean anyway on Latin) among the crowd of passers-by which, in general, is


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very stupid, because she rarely happens in my parts. However, in every, at least a

remotely familiar girl, I see my Tilly. I peered through my myopic eyes intently in

the face of a stranger, but, alas, time after time, she is not Tilly, but indeed a girl

unfamiliar to me, who looks so much like the love of my life. Sometimes,

especially when you feel bad, I would say that the soul shutters (strange epithet,

but describes a state of mind exactly) two packs of cigarettes per day go up in

smoke; dear heart image is literally standing in front of my tired eyes.

Mademoiselle Matilda Maurikot, my beautiful Tilly, oh, how I miss you, if anyone

only knew.

We met eight years ago. I was with my best friend (Whom I call Brotherfrom another mother and, by the way, the bass guitarist in the band that I play in)

was involved in amateur Rally-races in Wales in which I as a pilot, a friend of

mine as a navigator. And now, at the end of the second day when we were fighting

for fourth place, our Mini Cooper nearly crashed into Innocenti, an Italian-built

Mini, which descended down road and now, is going back again. Barely gone from

first collision with a green Innocenti, and then with a tree, lost forty seconds andsay goodbye to the fourth place! So, the pilot of the crew, due to which my friend

and I almost went down and fell back to seventh line in the standings, was Matilda

Maurikot. When she crashed from the road, the side window damaged, and it was

just the window with a label with the names of the crew, and the inscription

Matilda Maurikot turned into something not very legible, and the only thing that

could be read, looked like: .. til .. .... I ... t , so just like that she became Tilly for

me. I was very embarrassed when in the Service Park, running up to the ill-fated

green Innocenti and was about to beat the hell out of the fairly clumsy rider, from

the same green car appeared a lovely creation with brown hair and blue eyes. And,

as befits all who are unlucky in love, I immediately fell for her. So it happened that

the road gave me my Tilly. I took part in all races of the series just for her

(although this wasn't my plan). Then I had an accident, and did not participate in

the race for some time, and when an accident happened to Matilda, I rushed to the


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hospital the same day, I should mention that to get there I had to fly from Vantaa,

the airport in Helsinki, to Lisbon. But in the hospital I met her mother, who gave a

distinctly understanding that I am not fit to care for her daughter.

Once at the club's rally in France, I had persuaded my friend (one from the

organizers of the event) to put my letter in the road legend of her. This was just the

confession which you have heard:

Dear Tilly, I know it was stupid of me to a message in the navigation map,

but believe me, this is the only way I can tell you about my feelings. You are not

indifferent to me, not indifferent to such an extent that I am ready to exchange the

remaining time of my life only to ensure that you will find your happiness in this

cruel world. You know I wrote Night, Morning, Evening just for you, I thought

that music will convey my feelings better than words, but you ignored even that. I

curse the day when my heart went out of control of my mind forever, and

submitted it's loyalty to you, because from the very since I do not stop thinking

about you, praying for you, forgetting about myself. Not a day goes by without

thoughts of you. I live, breathe and scream about you. We have a little

misunderstanding between us, but for me it is not the slightest matter, because I

intoxicated with thoughts of you and only you can be the guiding star of my life,

which fills my existence. I'm not a master of love declaration, but it is vital for me

to know what you know about my feelings. You see, I'm waiting like an idiot, for

that one day, when you will answer one of my messages, but it is always in vain.

You can reject me, you can shout at each corner, about what an idiot I am and I

will not give a damn, the only thing I could not care less is actually you. Sorry

for the time taken away.

Your depressive musician, rally driver and the man deeply in love with you

Alex McNeil.


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It is a little snotty for an adult guy, but you must agree that I twisted my soul

before her as much as I could. But on the stretch between the race stages the same

yellow paper was discarded, crumpled and thrown away. I'm certainly not the most

resentful, but this circumstance has touched a chord within me, I even stopped to

check if this is not my declaration of love, to wallow in the mud at the roadside

(which was especially stupid because I lost test time in the race). And what is most

offensive, it really was my letter.

At the end of the day in the service park, I walked over to her car, but

Matilda passed by me without saying a word, only looked from under her forehead

with disapproving look.

Hey, what's the matter, I yelled after her, why did you threw it here I

took a crumpled yellow sheet of paper what's wrong?

Don't you understand? Tilly repeated impatiently and angrily.

Listen, Tilly ...

Enough! No Tilly! My name is Matilda, MA-TIL-DA, you get it? For you,

I am Mademoiselle Matilda Maurikot, and no, not Tilly.

Well, Mademoiselle MA-TIL-DA Maurikot, go to hell, you heartless

bitch! I opened my soul before you! By the way, you know how hard it is to decide

on such a step as a declaration of love? I am crucified before you, and you're

wiping your feet with me.

Not sure who wipes his feet on the other one?

Well, it is obviously not me!

In response, I received the same hefty slap in the face, which I got an hour

ago back at her home. Of course, the situation cleared up later, about what

happened that made her so angry. For god's sake, plot made just for the soap opera:


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Matilda's navigator - her friend, Italian girl Alessia, fell in love with me (about

which I learned much later) and when she found my letter in her map she hastily

remade it directing it to herself and even added something about Tilly. That she

was only a way for me to have some fun on the weekend and then gave her m

confession. Mean, isn't it? Idiot, no, to write a letter by hand (Tilly knew my

handwriting and couldn't possibly be tricked by Italian) and to make sure that it

arrived at its destination, I printed it on a rally form, which Alessia had in plenty,

and planted it in the Alessia's map. What can I say - I was an idiot.

Well, I was dating Alessia for less than a year (yeah, she did what she

wanted, that bitch) until I found that very false message written on my behalf. As itusually happens, the secret got out by accident. I was looking for some phone

code, and one of the pages in the handbook was bookmarked by this very fake

letter.

Lassie, damn you, what the hell is this I handed her a yellow sheet of

paper you bitch!

Firstly, You do not need to be rude, and secondly, do not yell at me, and

Third, say thank you that I saved you from Matilda.

What?

What you heard! Her Ladyship has no interest in anyone but herself. She is

a hardened egoist.

And are you not? You made me a villain, took Tilly from me, and you still

want me to be grateful for this?

First, not Tilly from YOU, but YOU from Tilly Alessia interrupted me,

which you must agree is a big difference and secondly, nobody knows you like I

do. Your favorite movie Story of the Nun , your favorite actress AudreyHepburn, favorite music - progressive rock, more precisely, neo-prog, favorite


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musical band Dream Theater, color red, cigarettes Camel, beer Budweiser ,

guitar Music Man Silhouette, you only put 9-42 nickel strings on your guitar, oh

yes, you have three guitar amps: WARP X, THD Flexi and a Mesa / Boogie

Mark5. What more to say? Oh yeah speakers in your guitar cabs they are also

THD, sorry forgot the exact model. What else do you want to hear from me? Do

you think that at least one girl knows which strings gauge her boyfriend puts on

his guitar, or that despite his twenty-eight years, he is sleeping in the arms of a

teddy bear.

Stop, stop it!

There you are, and ask Matilda something about you, oops, sorry, Tilly, do

you think she will ever say anything? Ask, come on! Alessia handed me her cell

phone, but seeing my reluctance to call Matilda, she did it herself Okay, I'll ask

her myself. ... Hello, hello, hello, hello Matili-Tilly, listen, do you know the guy

who is crazy about you? Do you remember his birthday ... No, not Fabio, This

Scottish guy, Alex ... What, you do not remember when? Ah, you do not even

know it ... Maybe you have his phone number there? ... No ... Oh, just made a bet

with someone, okay, okay, kiss, hug, buy, my dear. Alessia hung up

Vafanculo!

I sat there not knowing what to say. The initiative was Alessia's, and she was

right Tilly did not care about me at all at least for now. Alessia took a deep

breath and continued:

Who needs you, but me? You left motor sport after back injuries, you

smoke a pack of cigarettes a day and do not intend to abandon smoking, you spend

more time with a guitar than with a girl, and you are a very lousy lover, bad kisser

and snores during sleep. You know, I'll probably go home for you to understand it

all, especially for the fact, that northern parts of Scotland are much colder than

northern Italy. That is what Sandro, you see what's what, think about me a little,


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you can even try to date Matilda, I'll leave her phone, and so, whine, cry on her

shoulder about me, and then you will understand that I am the only girl for you.

You know, Sandra, you are my happiness and I will not give up so easy. Think

now, I'll leave my address in a Salo, for you to know where to find me, but do not

take long, okay? I do not want to meet my birthday without a loved one. Bye!

I live alone and frankly, I'm already bored of it. I, like that Buridan's donkey,

am torn between the woman, whom I love and the one who loves me. And even the

road led me to a crossroads, from where I could get to Salo (beautiful town on a

lakeshore of Lago di Garda) in six hours, back and after one hour be back on the

Tilly's porch, or go back home, away from all these girls. The solution, in general,is as always difficult, and my back ache cannot withstand long journeys without

warming up, so I decided to roll up to the nearest petrol station. To stretch my back

and decide Hamlet's question directly: to be or not be , that is, to go or not go, the

main thing, of course, is where to go, or maybe I should go to my musician friends

in Finland, get my rocks off as real rock n roller ? My head swarmed with million

ideas about what to do and how to distract my attention from the road, I felt sleepy,and I was damn sad. I started to readjust to turn to a gas station, when suddenly a

sharp headlight hit the side window and there was a deafening blast.

Punch. Feeling of unreality, a sharp unbearable pain and ... nothing more,

soon it became easy and relaxing, the pain stopped, and I found myself in a

completely different place.


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CHAPTER 2: RED

In every life, there should be at

least a little of rainy weather. Henry Longfellow

I stood on the doorstep of Tilly. At the very threshold, on which I could not

decide whether to knock on her door or get the hell out of here. Come on,

Alexander, be a man. I pressed the doorbell, but nothing came out of this, I felt no

call, no fingerprints, and no earth beneath my feet.

Do not even touch it, moron said a voice from behind.

I turned around; a little further behind me stood a man about sixty with long

gray hair, a small Skipper beard and a rocker outfit.

What? I asked irritably.

Alex, you moron, do not push it it is material, and you, you dumb head,

at this very moment is not.

How do you know that ... ... WHAT? I am ... am I ... dead or what?

O-ho-ho, stranger laughed bitterly oh well, you really are a moron:

Whaaaaat, am I dea-a-ad? So fucking stupid, what did I tell you? That you are

immaterial at the moment, but if you were dead, you wouldn't be wondering here.

Hey, man, I do not know who you are, but what is with that entire moron

thing. Can't you be more polite? And what the fuck is going on around here

anyway?

In fact, nothing serious: your subtle body separated from your not very fat,

physical body. Half of you is here, but half in the car at the crash site. Got it?


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So am I, doomed?

Well, as long as your heart beats no. Although think for a minute, how

many times did you heard about returning from the dead?

Uh, er .... A lot.

What a smart guy! Look a man put his hand in front of me, and I found

myself inside the house, and he outside (although I still could hear his voice) Just

don't go apeshit in there, got it?

Yeah, just what is it there that can make me go ape-shit, eh?

I was past the cherished door. Carefully, as if I were in a museum, I walked

from room to room, examining their furniture, pictures in frames on walls, five

awkward sculptures in the kitchen, but Tilly was nowhere to be found. On the

second floor, I went through the open door, and rage just overwhelmed me: in bed

asleep were Tilly and that bastard from the cafe. I ran to the bed and with all my

strength began to beat the hell out of him, or rather just trying to beat the bugger,

because I could not even put a bruise on him, not even tickle his nose. A few

minutes later, realizing the futility of this venture, I lowered my hands.

Well, are you calm now? A voice from behind. I turned around, and

there of course, was my counterpart rocker. What do you want to do - break the

face of this sweet stuff here? With what, may I ask you, with your incorporeal

hand?

Why did you bring me here, eh?

Not me, you let yourself here, I'm just an observer, watching you, so that

you do not do something silly.

By the way, man, I'm sorry for asking, but who are you?


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Well, finally! I was waiting for this question. Let's just say I am your

escort.

Uh, er .... What?

Damn! In the sense that it is my task to bring you to the right choice and to

accompany you during your trip ... hmm ... let's call it a trip. Kiss Matilda on the

forehead, escort abruptly changed the subject.

Why?

Oh, Lord It's hopeless! I'm not saying WHY, but WHAT should you do.

I dutifully obeyed and kissed Tilly's forehead. A very strange feeling as if I

were a part of the notorious andron collider, it is hard to describe in words what

was going on with me, but after a split second I somehow appeared in the train, I

sat in front of Tilly, and I myself could feel things around me (which wasn't the

case for the last twenty minutes).

Alex, I am so glad you came with me, - said Matilda and moved to the sit

adjacent to mine I missed you so much.

Me too, I said this words, still not understanding what was happening,

but happy, that it happens with me at all insanely missed you, Tilly.

Where have you been for so long? Asked the girl in a gentle tone restingher head on my shoulder.

I inhaled the almost forgotten smell of her hair. My God, how wonderful

does her hair smells. Like a fragrance of white roses when met with the smell

mown meadow grass. The smell of happiness, at least mine.

I wish I did know where the hell I was all this time....


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I'm sorry for yesterday's slap.

It's nothing, though the hand is really heavy, like you can join in women's

boxing tomorrow.

I just do not want my heart to break again.

What do you mean by again ? I asked her a little irritated, because if

anyone's heart is broken it's mine.

I cannot forget the letter you wrote to me, and Alessia's letter, too, but,

there were bad ... about me... it is all written there.

Oh, that! I myself have recently learned, that Alessia wrote this letter

herself. You know, I'm a fool; I had to write a letter by hand, so she would not

trick us, although it would be better to say, then to write....

What was in it for her?

Well, she thought she loved me more than anyone else, and I wrote this

love letter here, not for her, but for you. And put it into her road map, what was

downright stupid. So she pulled this trick.

You know, when I fell in love with you? When you ve played a concert

with your band at the 101 Club . And then I learned that you are participating in

the club rally, and rushed headlong into the races.

And then a whole season before the accident, I raced only to be with you.

The girl took me by the cheek and turned my face to her, we started to get

closer, and when she let herself to be kissed, a sharp pain fettered my chest.

Matilda became paler in fear:

Alex, what is it?


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So? - I was suddenly standing next to a rocker. Wheelchair with my body

was driven near us, and loaded into an ambulance, Hey! Stop it! Where are you

going, god dammit?! And what about me

Oh! You had fallen asleep, just like I said. Congratulations!

Is it safe? I asked my guide.

Have no fear, when you'll feel better physically, then you will return to

your flesh, the connection is not lost between your body and you soul. It's all for

the best this way your mind does not feel pain.

In Tilly's dream?

Oh, god! What are you, three and a half years old? Why do you ask such

an obvious questions all the time? While you were in Tilly's dream, your heart has

stopped and that dude from the ambulance has started it again. If you would have

stayed in her sleep longer - you would've been in coma for the rest of your days,

got it?

I understand, but ... just, what happens now? Where will I go next time?

You decide. Think of the loved one; think of your favorite dog, or about

something like this.

And?

No, damn it, there will be a ton of special effects just for you!

Well, there were some in the dreams....

How? My guide interrupted me. There were things like that in dreams,

because you entered the subtle world of another person, got it?


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I closed my eyes and started thinking about people close to me, about my

work, about cacti in the window, but when I opened my eyes, I was still at the

scene.

What is it? Why am I still here?

How should I know? It is easier with Matilda, since you re thinking about

her all the time.

Why am I not by her side right now then?

Damn! Read Britannica! Started your hurdy-gurdy again, why is it then,why it is now, why not like this? I do not know! Got it? I do not know, probably

something is stopping you. Likely the thing that interferes with all this is the fact

that you are not really on a solid ground about your relationship with her, but then

again I do not know! I mean, I do not know! By the way, what's about Michelle

suddenly my guide suddenly changed the topic, you're still trying to draw her

attention to yourself?

Who is Michelle? I asked him, feeling totally lost.

Normal Michelle! Five feet and six inches tall, green eyes, red hair,

slightly pug nose and a birthmark on her cheek. Do you remember?

Something is very ... I was confused.

Fuck! Michelle, the one who was the actress remember?

Ah, but ... wow, do you know who is she, and who am I?

Who? You are an idiot, that's who! And to be honest, I hate this wording:

Who is I, and who is her? She wasn't made of the same flesh and blood like

you? Or maybe she flew in from another solar system?


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Good morning, Mr. McNeil, said the nurse, who came into my ward

you are lucky you have a good guardian angel. After this accident to get away

with just bruises and sprains - you sure was born with a caul over your eyes.

Good morning. I said. I'm sorry, but can you tell me for how much was

I unconscious?

You have been unconscious for a few hours. You are in the hospital for

only four hours, so do not worry, you didn't miss much.

I felt myself a bit better because suddenly I ve realized that I don t feel any

bitter feeling what was quite usual for me. I have no feeling of hard one-way love

with Tilly, I am not angry at Alessia, and even I don t hate that bastar d that slept in

the bed with my beloved Matilda. Holy crap! Get you out of my mind, dear Tilly!

Thanks, oh Lord, that Dopamine Oxitocine, don t remember what else s (in a

way of biochemistry composition) brain etching, called Love has been gone.

Mr. McNeil you ve got a visitor for you, said the nurse.

"Fuck! Please, let it be anyone except these goddamned vixens" I ve

thought occasionally "That s the last thing I would prefer now. "

And who was that, if not a secret? I ve asked, a bit scared t o see either

Tilly or Alessia.

A young man who introduced himself as your manager, being here for four

hours already. Should I invite him?

Oh! Dean?

Yes, that is also how he had introduced himself. Should I call him?

Yes, please.

Tired Dean came in a moment later.

Well, McNeil, that was close! Nearly died in there, and I have giant plans

for you, you heartless bastard! Your single is all the rage right now, and I ve

arranged concerts at two clubs overseas in New York and Toronto. Tell me

"Thank you Dean!"


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in my heart disappeared and I have a even stronger feeling of love to Tilly, Matilda

Maurikot, who is dead now.

It s hard to explain what you feel in such minutes. A mixture of bitterness,

denial that this could happen, and the state of some acidic prostration. Literally a

couple of seconds, I wept bitterly, dropping to my knees. How long I wept, just do

not know, maybe an hour, maybe more, but ended rend the air hotel room

hysterically crying for my beloved, I called to book a flight, and as the plane was

only tomorrow, I went to drown the pain on the bottom of the glass.

I do not remember how long I was on the New York streets in search of

drinking establishment, but finally, when turned up something terribly

impoverished and reeking massacre, I went inside. Passed the bar and asked for a

triple scotch.

Wh at for, you re starting the morning with a drink? The bartender asked

me.

Fuck you ... I looked at the bartender and was dumbfounded. The bar

was a guide, that hour I rushed at him with his fists Oh, you scum!

Quiet! Caught my fist bartender guide, you that tired of living?

Your will, yes! Tired! I just lost my favorite, but you, you bastard; I still

have to teach you?

Would you like to fix everything?

What are you, an old ugly mug?

First, do not be rude to me, idiot, and then I can help you save the life of

Tilly. You just do not need to make a mistake in the past and that's it.

Are you serious?


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Well, no, you're just hard-of-mind! I said that I would help, and then help.

I if you remember, there s a lot of things that I can.

Come on I said resignedly.

Escort to swing flat hit on the head with his hand, and again I felt a lot of

pain throughout the body. I woke up in hospital on a drip and in the braces.

Good morning, Mr. McNeil, said the nurse, which came into the ward

you are very lucky you have a good guardian angel. After this accident you got

away with bruises and a couple of sprains you were born with a caul for sure!

Suddenly I ve understood that this scene hasn t happened in my life yet.

It would've been better if I would have been born with brains... I almost

automatically replied having feeling that I ve already said the same words to the

same nurse.

Well, do not torment yourself, anyone could've been on your place, andyou have everything in order with your brain: no head injuries.

Excuse me I asked the nurse tell me, what date it is?

Twenty-third, do not worry, you were unconscious only for a few hours.

You are in the hospital for six hours, so do not worry, you did not have time to

miss a lot of everything.

So, last time I was in hospital for four hours, so it is a somewhat different

reality.

Tell me I turned again to the nurse are there any of my visitors there?

Oh, how did you know that?

Intuition I said, with an obvious sarcasm.


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Yes, in the hallway some young man is waiting for you, he introduced

himself as your manager.

Oh! Dean?

Yes, that is also how he had introduced himself. Should I call him?

I think not. He is again coming to me with some slave sentences: Alex,

please, give some concerts in six clubs a week something like that.

Ok, said the nurse, and what should I tell him?

Tell him, that I need some peace and quiet right now, I don't know, just

come up with something.

Ok, repeated the nurse, and went out to the hallway.

Damn it! This opportunity to play over the ocean is one-in-a-life-time event,

and I cannot take advantage of it for the sake of my beloved's life! She does not

even realize the magnitude of this sacrifice, and there is nothing else, that can be

done here, because otherwise she will die in a car accident. I lay there with my

blink-less eyes staring at the ceiling, trying to reassure myself that I made the right

choice. Day by day Dean besieging me with requests to go on this tour. Good

Lord, Dean, if you only knew how I do not want to lose this opportunity, but even

more I do not want to lose Tilly. Why is it always necessary to choose between

what your brains wants and what you want in your heart? Days flew, Dean

continued to annoy me with his pleas about the tour, and my heart became nastier

and nastier.

Nurse once again came into the ward.

Mr. McNeil, you have a visitor.


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Dean again? I asked with a voice of a man doomed to another half-hour-

long tantrum from my manager.

No, she's a girl.

Really?

Yes, she is blond, should I cal her?

Of course!

On the threshold of the ward Tilly appeared. According to her face swollen

with tears, I realized that she is either separated from her boyfriend, or blames

himself for my accident or both at once.

Oh, my God, Alex Matilda wept, forgive me, please.... If I had not sent

you away, you would not have had an accident.

Don't worry so much it's all my fault. I went to confess love far away and

you, of course, were shocked, and I couldn't do better than to head back home just

after two days on the road. All of it was just an accident.

The girl came to my bed and hugged me.

I won't let you go away no more. I'm ... I could not find in which hospital

you are for a whole week, I nearly went mad. Alex the girl suddenly changed the

tone and was on one knee in front of me I understand that girls do not do this, but

I offer you my hand and heart.

I fell into a stupor from the surprise of it. I could only dream of this, but

frankly was not ready for this situation. Finally, I was able to squeeze out the

answer:

Tilly. This is what I had to tell you.


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Alexander McNeil, would you take thou as your wife?

Of course, Tilly, I dreamed about this since the very first meeting with

you.

Before I could kiss Tilly, the ward attendant came in, dressed in the form of

a Courier and asked:

Mr. McNeil?

Yes. It's me. I replied.

I have an urgent package from attorney of signorina Alessia Merlutti.

And what happened? I had asked, lacking any understanding of what's

going on.

Open the package and read.

Dear Mr. McNeil, I began to read the letter aloud law firm Pinnon andDor e asks you or your attorney attend the 23rd of this month to read out the will

of Mademoiselle Alessia Merlutti, who died in a train accident 10th day of this

month...

In my eyes everything went black.

Fuck you! I rushed to beat the messenger you are pissing me off! Canyou at least once, you paranormal shitbag, bring any good news?

Firstly, escort powerful hook pinned me to the floor behave, and

secondly, you are the one to blame.

Again? What do you mean your own fault ? I spat out a tooth What a

bitch, you knocked my tooth out!


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I just raised my foot to kick the old rocker, cuddled on the floor because of

the groin pain, as this smart aleck has charged me with his fist to my jaw. I spit out

another tooth.

You freak, you knocked out the second one!

Listen here, you milk sucker, I helped you! Tilly would've arranged a

scandal, if she learned about this. And would've known about this, believe me,

because Alessia mentioned her in the will as well. It is strange, of course, to

compose death-will in twenty-five years, but this is Alessia, you know. Now listen,

you will now struggle for an hour or two and then go straight into a depression,

because you lost the girl who loved you, and marriage to Tilly will still be broken.

Besides, you are really missing your finest hour. In general, if you want Tilly to be

alive, and Alessia to be alive and for her not to loom with her machinations over

you, and you, as a musician, to become someone with a name and a place in the

rock-world, and also to return two knocked-out teeth back into your mouth, correct

the mistake you made in the past, got it?

Fuck you!

You are such an idiot, and that is certainly not the right answer! First,

Matilda will not forgive you because of you her best friend died, and secondly, you

vilified her best friend in her eyes.

Damn it! I suffered and I am guilty for that!

Is it your first day on earth? You do not know a lot about women, do you?

Okay, I'll try again.

Just bear in mind that this will be the last time. All right?

All understood. Let's slap my forehead for me to wake up in hospital a

week ago.


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It is not necessary; you just have a funny face when you are slapped on the

forehead, that I just could not hold myself from it. I'm sorry.

You son of a bitch!

Shut up! Said my guide, and snapped his fingers.


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CHAPTER 3: GOLDEN

Fantasy is an eternal spring.

Friedrich Schiller

Imagination is more important than knowledge.

Albert Einstein

Good morning, Mr. McNeil, said the nurse, who came into my ward

you are lucky you have a good guardian angel. After this accident to get away

with just bruises and sprains you sure was born with a caul over your eyes.

Good, I said, knowing that this scene was occurring to me twice already

I'm sorry, but can you tell me for how much was I unconscious?

You have been unconscious for a few hours. You are in the hospital for

only seven hours, so do not worry, you didn't miss much.

Are there any visitors for me?

Yes, how do you know?

Intuition, you know.

A young man who introduced himself as your manager, being here for four

hours already. Should I invite him?

Yes, please.

Tired Dean came in a moment later.

Well, McNeil, that was close! Nearly died in there, and I have giant plans

for you, you heartless bastard! Your single is all the rage right now, and I arranged

concerts at two clubs overseas in New York and Toronto. Tell me Thank you

Dean!

Go to hell!

You can go there yourself.... Is it all right with your hands? Can you play

after a month?

Looks like everything is in order, after two weeks I'll play just as I played

before. Let me guess, you even decided to bring me a guitar?


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Sure thing, man! I even arranged with the hospital directorate that you were

allowed to play. In the evening I'll bring you your expander, metronome,

headphones and a guitar, well, aren't I the best guy in the world?

Dean, you are the best, but I cannot play after just a month, arrange with

them to delay it all a little, I'm not sure that I will recover completely after this

month.

Okay, I'll try.

Not try but will do, Alex, right?

Roger that, what are you so nervous?

Dean, I got into an accident! In addition, I have all this garbage in my

damn personal life! And yet, I have not seen Alessia for far too long, and do not

make her push me to change my decision about New York, okay?

Okay somehow sadly answered my manager.

No offense, Dean. Remember, that I am your bread and half-baked bread

is not served. Have we agreed to postpone?

Ok!

If you were a girl, I'd kiss you, I told him sarcastically.

Leave me alone, you're not my type. So, ahem ... get well. By the way, I

spoke about your transfer to another hospital, if you want; you can go to Scotland

for rehabilitation, back home, eh?

I can go today.

Well, today its better not to, but after a couple of days, I think, they will

transport you there. Come into my office, after the hospital, OK?

OK!

Well, okay, now I'll go to talk about your transportation and a

postponement. So long, McNeil, let's hope there won't be any accidents in the

future.

Good luck, Dean.

I leaned on the pillow, satisfied. Long time I wanted to put this asshole in his place. He is certainly not a bad guy, but very, very selfish. So, what's left? Matilda


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should live, Alessia, too, and I must go to America. So if I'll get there with a slight

delay, Tilly won't crash, Lassie neither. Well, I think I fixed that damn mistake, old

fart escort told me about.

Nurse!

Yes, I'm listening - nurse came into my ward once again.

Tell me, did my cell phone survive the crash?

Oh, to be honest, I do not know.... Do you need to call someone?

Yes. Find out about my phone please.

Fifteen minutes later, she returned with my mobile phone in her hand.

Smiling broadly, she handed me the phone.

Here you are. You're in luck. I think he was born with a caul too.

With a protection screen.

The girl giggled and gave me my cell phone back. I looked at the mobile

phone and thought, if I should call any of thus women. I wanted to talk to Tilly, to

scold Lassie, but even I did not know what to say. Just didn't know, at least in such

way, for thus girls to understand me . It seems so simple: confess my love to

Tilly once again.... Once again. That's right, once again! I've had enough! Tired!

On one hand, I was tired of loneliness and uncertainty in relations with both girls

to death, but on the other hand, I'm tired of their stupid women logic. This means

that dating your friend, which is no friend to you all, and just jealous at you,

calling you a slut, it is bestiality, but the mere fact that you, Matilda, though you

still love me, is sleeping with another guy, does not matter! I have no words for

this!

I had no luck with the opposite sex in my life. The first time I fell in love,

when I was nine years old with a cousin's girlfriend, who was four years older than

me, then I fell in love with the girlfriend of my friend and now it's Tilly. I

sometimes dream about a girl who will not fool my brain with women's logic.

Of course, I would have liked for us to have some mutual feelings. And also,

want her to understand the effort that you spend on something that makes herhappy, knew how hard it is, to choose between professional moments and


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happiness (in her favor, of course). But where I can find such a girl? The question

is not easy.

I do not even know whether I love Tilly or not. I mean I am not sure that I

love Tilly as much as she loves me. My head is a mess, brain had just melted, and

the inner voice sends everyone and everything to hell.

Three days passed like one. Time! It's never enough of it, when it is needed,

it flies faster than necessary, or vice versa, a second seem to last for hours. Time

is money , this saying makes more sense than it seems at first glance, the time it

really is gold. When time is needed more than ever, it is not enough of it, and when

it doesn't worth a dime it s nowhere to spend it.

Finally, the day of the transfer. However, I am quite well recovered, so I'll

just walk to a physical therapist for a week. My manager came for me, to settle

paperwork, along with my friend, whom I have already mentioned, as my

navigator and my bass player.

Dean was still tinkering with the insurance payment, but Kevin and I (as I

said navigator, a bass guitarist and just a good friend) went to the car. When we

were finally driving, I felt relieved.

The road , there is nothing better than the road. I think I already said that

once. I love the road: asphalt, as gray ribbon, meanders under the wheels of your

car, other cars, people, cities, trees, sunsets and sunrises sweep through the

window, and you're just driving and driving. You're just going ahead and, where

"Ahead" is, is for you to decide. You decide whether to go by pretty village, or

stop in to buy some fresh bread at the local bakery.... My thoughts were interrupted

by a horrifying picture: a car before us went sharply to the left, stroked the divider

and flew off into the ditch.

Kevin, hit the brakes! I cried Call ... call an ambulance!

I ran out of the car, although a little awkward, because of lameness and back

pain after the accident and went into a ditch.

From the inverted machine, which took off into the ditch, no signs of lifewere heard. I bent down and tried to make out who the driver was, but the only


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thing I understood - that the driver was female. I tried to open the car's door, but it

was wedged by the blow.

Damn, why did you set behind the wheel of this monster? Girls should

drive 'Renault Clio' I went back to my car, in which Kevin unsuccessfully tried to

dial the number.

Kevin, what's the matter?

The battery is dead, and I cannot find the charger.

I wrinkled my nose. My mobile phone apparently survived, but stopped

working, so there was no choice - I had to go to the pay phone or to the nearest

police post.

Look, you should ride to a gas station, Kev. There you can call ambulance,

and if you meet the Police, then call up an ambulance through them. It is near

Five minutes drive from here I told him as fast as I could.

Well, Kevin started the engine.

Stop! Let me take something out of the trunk I stopped Kevin.

I quickly hobbled to the trunk and took an airplane carrying case with a

guitar from it.

Are you stupid? What the hell is guitar for? Kevin was outraged.

Shut up and drive for help, trunk prevents me from picking the case. I'll

break the glass and the trunk is useful as a lounger.

You're sacrificing a guitar?

And what I have left?

Kevin looked at me in astonishment; I slammed the lid of the car and went

with the car and a wrench to the crashed car. After a couple of blows glass

subjected (do not believe the films were laminated glass brakes after a few hits

with no apparent effort) and I was able to turn it out.

So, my dear, hold on I turned to driver girl just wait a moment.

I climbed into the cabin with a case and carefully cut the seat belt with my

penknife. The girl did not fall, I supported her with my hands and laid on the case


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with the guitar, under which I put my jacket, to fixate the girl, while I pull the case

out of the cabin.

In a minute me, the girl and a guitar were the great outside. The girl could

barely breathe, but her face was covered with blood from a wound on her head, so

I took her T-shirt and rubbed her face, then pulled the girl jersey to stop the blood,

so I could give her mouth-to-mouth. But as soon as I wiped her face, I was stunned

in front of me laid Michelle, the same Michelle that old bad guide asked me.

Hesitated for a second, I squeezed the girl's nose and began to breathe in the air.

The girl opened her eyes and barely smiled.

Behind her back already the sirens could already be heard and I just felt that

I was literally frozen because I stripped to the torso in order to fix the girl's back

and close her wound on her forehead. A minute later the doctors from ambulance

were on the scene.

Monsieur, let me I was approached by two doctors with stretcher.

Michelle was loaded on a stretcher, and they put tire on her neck, one of the

Physicians turned around and said to me.

Good work, where did you learn all that?

I am a former race car driver; it s not the first time I get people out of the

car crashes.

Will you remain here or go to the hospital with us?

I sadly looked at the case with the guitar, then sighed and went to the

ambulance.

Wasn't it you, who got into this accident near gas station? asked the

doctor.

Yeah, it was me - I said, getting into ambulance.

ALEX! The voice of Kevin came from outside the car where are you

going?

I am going to the hospital; just take the guitar out of that ditch.

Just came out of the hospital walls, and now I'm going back with the girl ofmy dreams. Of course, I cannot have any claims to Michelle. I first saw her just


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before meeting with Tilly. She was then just an unknown actress, who starred in a

cameo role.

They were shooting the film in my hometown, and that's when I saw

Michelle. I even tried to go to the dressing room, or rather to the van where they

put makeup on non-star actors. But the guard did not let me in. So she was still

just a girl from the half-remembered dream, not a real person.

No, not at all an erotic fantasy, at least I don't think so (For some reason,

male fantasies are usually associated with banalities). Just fantasies about the most

perfect girl I never found.

Take her hand doctor suddenly turned to me she is consciousness, and

it would be better, if she would feel your support.

I took the girl's cold hand and looked at her. Lord, why did we meet the way

we did? Why could not we do it six years ago, look, now she got into accident, and

maybe if we did it earlier, maybe this would've not happened? I have an

impression that I was a mascot of car crashes since, I got into an accident myself,

first Tilly and Alessia, and now Michelle. Maybe it would be better if I had died in

the crash myself a week ago.

Now, one of the most beautiful girls in the world was looking at me with

incredibly sad eyes and squeezed my hand, cold hand.

Let's get to work! The doctor said when the car slowed down and

orderlies opened the doors to ambulances. Let her go, friend, we must patch her

up.

I lamely went after the stretcher, departing deeper into the hospital corridor

stretcher. But near the entrance to the operating block, one of the doctors pulled me

by the shoulder:

Hey, man, you can t go in there this was the familiar voice of my guide.

I turned and saw a guide in the uniform of hospital stuff. I stopped and

began to sob, to sob loudly.

Well, do not cry, men do not cry. I thought you'll try to pounce on me withyour fists again, and in my turn, I ll knock out a couple of your teeth.


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Tell me - I asked my guide, is this it, is she doomed?

Sorry ... yeah.

It's my fault, I said with a tone beyond the grave.

Do not blame yourself, her steering rack snapped.

It's because of me?

No, just that one had to go.

Can I decide who?

You have no more attempts, do you remember?

I remember. I choose myself. I just want to escape, you got it?

Are you sure? Asked me my guide.

In that, I am now convinced, more than in anything. Let them live:

Michelle, Matilda and damn her, Alessia. And I, I'm still a loser in love affairs,

with a finished racing career, and I'm not the best guitarist too.

Are you pretty sure?

Enough! I said that I am sure! Tell your boss to return Michelle to life; I

will go to his altar instead. This is my own and my final decision.

I and my escort were again on the place of my car crash. I was lying in ten

meters from us on a stretcher, the ambulance surgeon tried to run my heart with a

defibrillator, and my trusty Fiat Panda , or what of it was left is loaded on

evacuator.

Well, are you ready? Asked my guide.

Absolutely I replied with no hesitation.

Are you ready to sacrifice yourself for a girl totally unfamiliar to you?

You know, man, I have a feeling that for the first time in my life, I'm doing

the right thing more precisely the first and the last time in my life.

Do you remember, when I asked you about Michelle?

How could I forget? Of course, I remember it. Want to know why I chosen

Michelle?

Yes, if possible.


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You see, uncle, though I do not know her at all, I'm just a simple Scotsman

and she is a young American actress, I'm sure, that she deserves to live more than

me. You see, all these years, Matilda, my Tilly, was my obsession, but this girl

showed me a hundred times more gratitude during this trip in an ambulance, than

Tilly did for all six years. You know, Michelle she is my fantasy, the fantasy of

what a girl must be. I do not know if my imagination is correct, or if it has nothing

to do with reality, but I want Michelle to live. That would be right, man.

Listen, Alexander, I'm not your man. Do you think that they sell guides

like me on the yard sale? No. What was the surname of your father; you're on the

last name of your mother, are you not?

Yes, McNeil mother's maiden name and the surname of my father is

O'Reilly, he was an Irishman.

I too was an Irishman, as well and as my son too. My son's name was

Patrick O'Reilly, and when my grandson was born, the only thing I got to find out

that he was named Alexander. And I'm proud of such a grandson like yourself, you

have done the right choice, I'm sorry for the two knocked teeth and for strong

language, it's just that elderly and young people are hard to find a common

language. But you did well, and you had properly understood everything. Well, if

you're ready, then.... Old man puts his arm around me and I, for the first time

since our acquaintance with my grandfather, who died in the North sea, saw that

my guide smiled I wanted to cry, but already for twenty-eight years, I can t do

so. Okay, enough of those tenderness, your time is now.

The old man kissed my forehead, as with sleeping Matilda, I found myself in

a sort of whirlwind of colors and complex shapes, it seemed like I was flying...

Suddenly I heard a sharp raspy voice:

Mr. Sleeper, you still want to join today's Mini Cup?

I opened my eyes and found myself in a bar in my native town. Before me

stood Charlie, the old bartender who worked at the bar, over which my apartment

was situated. I had a terrible sense of dj -vu, I was sitting at the table, and rather,seconds back my face was lying on it. I raised my sight at the calendar near a


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mirror rack with bottles and involuntarily looked in this mirror rack. For a second

it was unusual to see my reflection without a beard, with short hair and with back

that is not hunched, although from the other side of the mirror usual twenty-two

years-old Alex McNeil, without beard, with short hair and straight back, was

looking at me.

Alex, listen, you're going to join the race today. You ve drank two cups of

coffee and shut down for an hour. It's not possible to let you behind the wheel?

I slept for an hour? I remember nothing. I remember how I finished the

second cup, and then, Charlie, you wake me up...

Yeah, I just noticed because I was chatting with that gentleman Charlie

pointed at the man in the corner of the bar.

Again I had the feeling of dj -vu, I think I have seen him somewhere, but I

don't remember where.

I light up, or am I clear? Asked the gentleman.

No! I just imagined it because of the asleep.

Oh, that's like, well, and then everything is clear. By the way, you're

participating in the rally of the Mini Cooper Club , don't you?

Yes

You know, on the road in Wales will have to spend A LOT of time, and

then the highway. And there are also the girls-participants, and if there is a woman

behind the wheel then there should be accidents.

How do you know? I asked.

I'm from the organizing committee, there are 8 hours before the start, and

you need at least ten hours to sleep. It is better for you to skip this step, I beg you.

Also look through that window, a gentleman pointed in the direction of the girl

outside the bar Look at that girl! Today our town is a location of some American

film, and this girl already came into the bar and forgot her purse...

The gentleman pointed to a lady's handbag on a chair, then looked at me

with a sly look.


45/46

45

In your place I would have approached her, returned the forgotten handbag

and introduced myself. They will start shooting soon; you won't get on the site

after that. Well, do not sleep with your hands in your legs, run! Do not miss your

chance, by the way, her name, in my opinion, is Michelle.

I looked out the window again and saw a really cute young woman, who has

come to the shooting.

Go ahead! Charlie gave me her bag Good luck, McNeil!

I left the bar with a bag and went to the girl with emerald eyes, fiery red hair,

slightly snub nose and a birthmark on her cheek, full of confidence that this time,

my fate has presented the most precious gift in the world.


46/46

EPI LO GUE

Well, Charlie, a gentleman asked the bartender, looking, with pleasure at

how Alex and Michelle are talking I put a thousand pounds that there will be a

wedding soon.

Oh, McNeil did not even know how to approach a girl at the first place.

Well, he is also O'Reilly. Muttered the gentleman to himself.

What's that? Asked Charlie. I did not hear.

I mean, I put a thousand pounds for a wedding. Or are you afraid, old

pepper? Damn I know where I'll take this thousand-if you'll be right?

Okay, how about you give them the best bottle of champagne you have?

Okay, O'Reilly, just out of respect for the fact that you are his grandfather,

and I have not forgotten how to talk with the undead such as yourself.

Prepare the champagne, Charlie, you know, that it's a bad idea to bet

against me. I never lose said the gentleman.

Date post:	03-Jun-2018
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Alexander Mantush - BLACK, RED, GOLD

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