Anastasia Akulova
The new world is greeted by clothes
Fate is like the keys of a piano,
And although their line is long,
Mixed joy with sadness,
And sadness with joy sometimes.
You were kind to me
Protected from harm
And, avoiding halftones,
She played clean scales.
And I felt proud
When you gave me a chance.
Now I'm with any chord,
I don't resonate.
Fate, be kind as before!
But, skipping the G note,
And ignoring hopes
You press the black G-flat.
And no matter how cunning you sometimes are,
To take a detour around you,
You're missing the white keys
And again you press G-sharp.
At least I could play the scale,
By pressing all the keys in a row.
But the white one rarely gets there,
Black people are increasingly heard.
Zeev AririThe new world is greeted by clothes
Autumn. Rainy, cold, turning the streets into a mess... In general, it appeared in all its glory. Now October is the very middle. It's been a sad month for me. In general, I am chronically unlucky, but especially in the fall. Probably partly because I hate this time of year.
My name is Katya Sokolova, and I am the most unhappy person in the world. At least for now. Ask why? I managed to fall into a puddle on the way from the university, so much so that I broke the heel on my new boots and stained my white coat, which I got with incredible difficulty. And now, limping, I slosh through the solid puddles to the dorm, trying in vain to pull my head into my shoulders to hide from the annoying rain. After all, I didn’t even buy an umbrella for myself. However, I cannot afford such trifles, because I am one of those same examples of state-funded students who have a mouse hanging not only in their refrigerator, but also in their wallet.
Unexpectedly, deftly maneuvering to avoid collisions with cars or passers-by, I rush to the dorm with all possible speed in order to finally take a shower, wash my coat, sigh over a ruined boot and once again convince myself that for now I am an excellent student on a budget at such a prestigious faculty , as a lawyer, you might think that everything is not so bad.
The entrance was met with the familiar smell of dampness and bleach. When I finally get to our room, I feel like I'm in Nirvana.
My three neighbors - Vika, Ksyusha and Nata - turned around when they heard the quiet slam of the door, greeted me and smiled sympathetically, looking at my suit of a wet, dirty, chilled chicken.
- Why are you so happy? – As a person with the exact opposite mood, I quickly noticed this fact.
They looked at each other silently, as if conferring whether I should speak.
“Well, you know, it’s almost the end of October,” Vika reminded, blowing a stray strand of dyed coal-black hair from her forehead, matching the color of her eyes, in which a herd of devils always danced.
– Should this tell me something? “My friends, it seems, unanimously considered me a redneck.
“Actually, yes,” nodded Ksyukha, a white-skinned, well-groomed blonde with a short haircut. – October thirty-first Halloween.
I finally pulled off these stupid Chinese boots and smiled blissfully.
- And what? - she snorted, - Who celebrates this holiday in Russia?
Nata, a brown-haired woman with blue eyes and a truly Russian braid below the waist, tutted, pouting her lips offendedly, a la “I told you so.”
“I knew you’d be grumbling,” Ksyukha smiled sadly.
“Kat, don’t be a bore,” Vika, on the contrary, smiled mischievously, “This is fun!” My parents are leaving for a while with their younger sister, leaving a two-room hut in my personal and undivided possession for two weeks!
“They’ll give me my salary soon, so we’ll buy food too,” Nata assented.
“We’ll invite the boys too,” Ksyukha joined the general chorus.
All three stared at me pleadingly, evoking an analogy with Shrek's cat. Against these damning arguments, my anti-wastefulness fell within a few seconds of reflection. After all, what normal Russian would refuse a fun evening and freebies?
- Well, since there was such a booze...
“They don’t just leave this world, they take with them a piece of the meaning of your life...”
Mikhail Mamchich
Arriving at the dorm in the evening after classes, I felt completely defeated. After all, only less than two months have passed since the start of classes, I have not yet gotten used to school. And that mass hysteria that reigned at the end of the eleventh grade could not help but leave its mark. Probably for the rest of my life I will not forget the panic that haunted me day and night before the Unified State Exam. Even me, an excellent student.
In fact, I'm such a lazy person. If there were a better situation in my life in terms of money, I would study with a calm soul and get straight As. But... there is always some “but” that does not allow you to live in peace. In my case, these are the two most important factors.
First, when I was seven, my dad died in a car accident. I was driving to work early in the morning, a truck jumped out from around a bend, he lost control... A strong blow, instant death. Mom was not at home, she was on duty at the hospital, so I answered the phone - a naive first-grader who believes in fairy tales and eternal love. The indifferent voice of the policeman, who announced my father’s death, simply broke me. Destroyed.
We were a wonderful family. Not rich, but very loving, harmonious, like a single organism. We were all incredibly important to each other. Therefore, at that moment my world simply collapsed, I stopped being myself, I became someone else. And childhood remained in the past - where the words “pain” and “loss” did not exist.
Secondly, we already didn’t have enough money for a lot of things, but before dad’s death we lived, and after that we began to survive. My mother is a simple nurse, we couldn’t count on much. I had no treats, no toys, no interesting trips. Coming home, my mother tried to smile in front of me and, looking tenderly at my hair, say that everything was fine, but her smile trembled, and there was bitterness and falsehood in her words.
I was a versatile and ambitious child. I wanted everything at once, but my mother could not give me more than she had, although she gave herself completely, without a trace. I was silent, put up with it and was immensely grateful to her. For loving me, for what he does for me. She believed that I would be able to achieve a lot and not experience such hardships, she was proud of me and invested all her strength. I simply had no right to make mistakes or mistakes. They would become ingratitude. Every summer I worked for all three months, but at school I only got A's. A kind of robot. But still it was easier there... but even now I still have no room for error. Because I had to scramble for a budget place at the full-time law faculty in the most prestigious university in my city, and it’s scary to lose it. Start from the beginning.
At school I had no friends, I didn’t trust anyone. There are plenty of friends. I knew how to smile, take proper care of my appearance, dress cheaply but elegantly and present myself in order to create the right impression. No matter what anyone says, impartiality among teachers is an extremely rare phenomenon. Personally, I have never encountered him. Winning the favor of the teaching staff and classmates was a kind of safety net - every day, coming home and listening to the praises of my extremely tired mother, I felt obligated to be impeccable, although I tried to present it to her as my personal whim - to be the best.
She was “one of the people” for many, she made many new acquaintances every day. So many that all the faces merged before my eyes, sometimes I didn’t even remember the acquaintance when I met a person again. I was friendly and “open” with everyone; the mask on my face became so familiar that it probably became my true face. No one, not even my mother, tried to look under the painted smile, no one tried to understand why I never cry, even in the most painful situations. And I cried all my tears at my dad’s funeral and dried up like a withered flower.
The graduation was pompous and completely unoriginal - everything was the same as everyone else’s, according to a template invented by someone, like many things in this life. By that time, I still had a friend whom I could call real - Vika. She moved to our school after the ninth grade, and we instantly became friends with her. That same feeling when you understand that this is your person. It's simple and easy for you with him. It was not difficult for me to say goodbye to everyone else. We studied together for eleven years, but remained strangers.
Vika and I entered the same university, the same faculty, and moved into the same room. Moreover, all this was precisely an accident, oddly enough. But we were both just glad of this fact - it’s easier this way. There is someone to lean on, and you no longer feel so lonely that you want to howl.
So far I felt like a twig in a stormy sea. I was carried in different directions, I lost firm confidence in the correctness of all my undertakings. And for such a meticulous, almost pedantic person like me, this is scary. And at the same time... unusual.
My friends, who were much more firmly on their feet, tried in every possible way to cheer me up, without dwelling on the reasons for my insecurity to the point of indecency. In general, they tactfully tried to bring me back to life. That's why I value them.
Only today they were overly excited. Ignoring my fatigue, they chatted incessantly about tomorrow's Halloween until it finally dawned on my sleepy brain...
What the hell... tomorrow is fucking Halloween... And what should I wear for it?
- No. No. And no! “I declared categorically, staring at the box in horror, “No way, do you hear!”
“Then no complaints against me,” Vika shrugged. “I, of course, understand that your finances are tight, but either you take this old suit of mine, or buy it yourself.”
“As if I’m asking you for money,” I pouted offendedly.
“Yes, I would buy it for you myself, but you’re proud of us,” Vika grinned, trying on the cute horns.
Reluctantly acknowledging the persuasiveness of her words, I once again stared suspiciously at the box placed in front of me. However, the sight of tight, black leather leggings, patent leather loafers of the same color with a fifteen-centimeter stiletto heel and lace, a tight black turtleneck with a very immodest neckline, fluffy black ears with clips and a faux wool tail still filled me with horror. Added to this were black gloves with artificial claws on the fingers. Although for some reason the tail confused me more. But trying is not torture.
- It's soon evening. Let’s try it on...” I suggested doomedly, to which the girls squealed with satisfaction and ran away with their boxes.
Here began a whole epic called “Katya is trying to fit into her pants.” No, I’m not fat, rather average, but I’m very far from Vika with her wasp waist. So the whole time I was pulling on these lacings, I managed to explain in detail when, to whom, where and how many times I would have time to put them in if they didn’t fit. And when the miracle happened, I, looking like a disheveled sparrow swimming in a puddle, felt like a conqueror of new heights. The turtleneck fit much better, as did the ankle boots, although I have no idea how I would move on such stilts.
Then, after drying my hair, which was still a little wet after the shower, I decided to put it in a high ponytail. Medium length, unruly, thick and curly, like a lion’s mane - sometimes it was hard for me to cope with them in the morning, but I didn’t want to cut it shorter yet. I've always liked hair color - it's fickle, like me. Sometimes they were light brown, sometimes honey red, depending on the lighting, but more often they were a pleasant straw shade. My eyes are ordinary, honey-brown, even yellowish, like a wolf’s, but I like them. Unusual, no matter what anyone says... Well, it seems so to me.
Otherwise, there is little I really like about my appearance. Average height, normal figure, third size breasts, clear pale skin, Greek straight nose, small but plump lips, neat eyebrows. I'm not a cover girl, but I try to take care of myself for reasons already known. However, for some reason, beautiful makeup always gave me special pleasure. The lightest layer of powder, neat thin arrows on the eyes, moderate mascara, eyeliner for expressiveness, slightly outlined eyebrows, cat whiskers drawn with eyeliner, and bright lipstick. I haven’t worn makeup so brightly for a long time, but... go for a walk! Cute long earrings completed the rather extravagant look. That's it, I'm ready.
Looking into the box, she pulled on thin gloves with claws. She didn’t even try to attach the tail - it’s not like she could stuff it into her underpants so that it would hold on.
Yawning, I stood up, trying myself as a ballerina (with those terrible heels...) and looked around. The girls had long since gotten dressed, appraisingly looking at their reflection in the mirror, then at each other.
Vika, as I already knew, was in the form of a demoness. Her outfit turned out to be more revealing than mine: the leggings were also leather and the same color, the ankle boots were also similar, only red and not patent leather, but instead of a turtleneck, there was a leather top with T-shirt sleeves, red. She curled her hair and let it down - it fell in a silky, shiny black cascade below her shoulder blades. By the way, I'm incredibly jealous of her hair. The makeup is the same as mine, only with the addition of a layer of foundation, emphasizing the contrast of her even pale skin and shining black eyes. To top it all off, there is an elegant black bracelet and earrings that sparkle in the light, as well as artificial black wings of a fallen angel, somehow attached to the back.
Ksyukha, our blonde with a bob, surprised me with a surprisingly high-quality red wig, almost indistinguishable from real hair. The fact is that she, a natural redhead, hated her hair color ever since her most stormy romance ended with the appearance of a rival dyed that color. She has a peculiar quirk on this basis: all redheads are certainly bastards and bitches.
But she looked no worse than Vicki. This fiery color suited her madly, freckled and green-eyed. Somewhere she dug up an amazing floor-length dress, bright blue, shimmering in the light with several shades. The hair was also loose, in a specially created artistic mess, which looked very harmonious and suited the image. Expensive earrings with sapphires, which she was so proud of, and beautiful, expressive makeup completed the look. She really looked like a witch.
Well, Nat... to be honest, she surprised me too. A long emerald-colored skirt, with an ornament resembling scales, almost completely clung to her legs, parting only at the very end to give at least some opportunity to move. The top resembled a cross between a very short top and a bra, like those worn for oriental dances - it made her small breasts visually larger. Suit in emerald tones with silver weaves. Obviously, Nata wanted to create the image of a mermaid, but personally, she reminded me more of the snake from the Slytherin coat of arms from Harry Potter. Probably because of the chosen colors and the sly squinting of almost turquoise eyes. But, I must admit, she looked very good, like Vika, she had something to show - unlike Ksyukha and me, they were actively involved in sports, although they did not overdo it.
Current page: 1 (book has 7 pages in total) [available reading passage: 2 pages]
Anastasia Akulova
The new world is greeted by clothes
Fate is like the keys of a piano,
And although their line is long,
Mixed joy with sadness,
And sadness with joy sometimes.You were kind to me
Protected from harm
And, avoiding halftones,
She played clean scales.And I felt proud
When you gave me a chance.
Now I'm with any chord,
I don't resonate.Fate, be kind as before!
But, skipping the G note,
And ignoring hopes
You press the black G-flat.And no matter how cunning you sometimes are,
To take a detour around you,
You're missing the white keys
And again you press G-sharp.At least I could play the scale,
By pressing all the keys in a row.
But the white one rarely gets there,
Black people are increasingly heard.
Zeev Ariri
The new world is greeted by clothes
Chapter 1
Autumn. Rainy, cold, turning the streets into a mess... In general, it appeared in all its glory. Now October is the very middle. It's been a sad month for me. In general, I am chronically unlucky, but especially in the fall. Probably partly because I hate this time of year.
My name is Katya Sokolova, and I am the most unhappy person in the world. At least for now. Ask why? I managed to fall into a puddle on the way from the university, so much so that I broke the heel on my new boots and stained my white coat, which I got with incredible difficulty. And now, limping, I slosh through the solid puddles to the dorm, trying in vain to pull my head into my shoulders to hide from the annoying rain. After all, I didn’t even buy an umbrella for myself. However, I cannot afford such trifles, because I am one of those same examples of state-funded students who have a mouse hanging not only in their refrigerator, but also in their wallet.
Unexpectedly, deftly maneuvering to avoid collisions with cars or passers-by, I rush to the dorm with all possible speed in order to finally take a shower, wash my coat, sigh over a ruined boot and once again convince myself that for now I am an excellent student on a budget at such a prestigious faculty , as a lawyer, you might think that everything is not so bad.
The entrance was met with the familiar smell of dampness and bleach. When I finally get to our room, I feel like I'm in Nirvana.
My three neighbors - Vika, Ksyusha and Nata - turned around when they heard the quiet slam of the door, greeted me and smiled sympathetically, looking at my suit of a wet, dirty, chilled chicken.
- Why are you so happy? – As a person with the exact opposite mood, I quickly noticed this fact.
They looked at each other silently, as if conferring whether I should speak.
“Well, you know, it’s almost the end of October,” Vika reminded, blowing a stray strand of dyed coal-black hair from her forehead, matching the color of her eyes, in which a herd of devils always danced.
– Should this tell me something? “My friends, it seems, unanimously considered me a redneck.
“Actually, yes,” nodded Ksyukha, a white-skinned, well-groomed blonde with a short haircut. – October thirty-first Halloween.
I finally pulled off these stupid Chinese boots and smiled blissfully.
- And what? - she snorted, - Who celebrates this holiday in Russia?
Nata, a brown-haired woman with blue eyes and a truly Russian braid below the waist, tutted, pouting her lips offendedly, a la “I told you so.”
“I knew you’d be grumbling,” Ksyukha smiled sadly.
“Kat, don’t be a bore,” Vika, on the contrary, smiled mischievously, “This is fun!” My parents are leaving for a while with their younger sister, leaving a two-room hut in my personal and undivided possession for two weeks!
“They’ll give me my salary soon, so we’ll buy food too,” Nata assented.
“We’ll invite the boys too,” Ksyukha joined the general chorus.
All three stared at me pleadingly, evoking an analogy with Shrek's cat. Against these damning arguments, my anti-wastefulness fell within a few seconds of reflection. After all, what normal Russian would refuse a fun evening and freebies?
- Well, since there was such a booze...
* * *“They don’t just leave this world, they take with them a piece of the meaning of your life...”
Mikhail Mamchich
Arriving at the dorm in the evening after classes, I felt completely defeated. After all, only less than two months have passed since the start of classes, I have not yet gotten used to school. And that mass hysteria that reigned at the end of the eleventh grade could not help but leave its mark. Probably for the rest of my life I will not forget the panic that haunted me day and night before the Unified State Exam. Even me, an excellent student.
In fact, I'm such a lazy person. If there were a better situation in my life in terms of money, I would study with a calm soul and get straight As. But... there is always some “but” that does not allow you to live in peace. In my case, these are the two most important factors.
First, when I was seven, my dad died in a car accident. I was driving to work early in the morning, a truck jumped out from around a bend, he lost control... A strong blow, instant death. Mom was not at home, she was on duty at the hospital, so I answered the phone - a naive first-grader who believes in fairy tales and eternal love. The indifferent voice of the policeman, who announced my father’s death, simply broke me. Destroyed.
We were a wonderful family. Not rich, but very loving, harmonious, like a single organism. We were all incredibly important to each other. Therefore, at that moment my world simply collapsed, I stopped being myself, I became someone else. And childhood remained in the past - where the words “pain” and “loss” did not exist.
Secondly, we already didn’t have enough money for a lot of things, but before dad’s death we lived, and after that we began to survive. My mother is a simple nurse, we couldn’t count on much. I had no treats, no toys, no interesting trips. Coming home, my mother tried to smile in front of me and, looking tenderly at my hair, say that everything was fine, but her smile trembled, and there was bitterness and falsehood in her words.
I was a versatile and ambitious child. I wanted everything at once, but my mother could not give me more than she had, although she gave herself completely, without a trace. I was silent, put up with it and was immensely grateful to her. For loving me, for what he does for me. She believed that I would be able to achieve a lot and not experience such hardships, she was proud of me and invested all her strength. I simply had no right to make mistakes or mistakes. They would become ingratitude. Every summer I worked for all three months, but at school I only got A's. A kind of robot. But still it was easier there... but even now I still have no room for error. Because I had to scramble for a budget place at the full-time law faculty in the most prestigious university in my city, and it’s scary to lose it. Start from the beginning.
At school I had no friends, I didn’t trust anyone. There are plenty of friends. I knew how to smile, take proper care of my appearance, dress cheaply but elegantly and present myself in order to create the right impression. No matter what anyone says, impartiality among teachers is an extremely rare phenomenon. Personally, I have never encountered him. Winning the favor of the teaching staff and classmates was a kind of safety net - every day, coming home and listening to the praises of my extremely tired mother, I felt obligated to be impeccable, although I tried to present it to her as my personal whim - to be the best.
She was “one of the people” for many, she made many new acquaintances every day. So many that all the faces merged before my eyes, sometimes I didn’t even remember the acquaintance when I met a person again. I was friendly and “open” with everyone; the mask on my face became so familiar that it probably became my true face. No one, not even my mother, tried to look under the painted smile, no one tried to understand why I never cry, even in the most painful situations. And I cried all my tears at my dad’s funeral and dried up like a withered flower.
The graduation was pompous and completely unoriginal - everything was the same as everyone else’s, according to a template invented by someone, like many things in this life. By that time, I still had a friend whom I could call real - Vika. She moved to our school after the ninth grade, and we instantly became friends with her. That same feeling when you understand that this is your person. It's simple and easy for you with him. It was not difficult for me to say goodbye to everyone else. We studied together for eleven years, but remained strangers.
Vika and I entered the same university, the same faculty, and moved into the same room. Moreover, all this was precisely an accident, oddly enough. But we were both just glad of this fact - it’s easier this way. There is someone to lean on, and you no longer feel so lonely that you want to howl.
So far I felt like a twig in a stormy sea. I was carried in different directions, I lost firm confidence in the correctness of all my undertakings. And for such a meticulous, almost pedantic person like me, this is scary. And at the same time... unusual.
My friends, who were much more firmly on their feet, tried in every possible way to cheer me up, without dwelling on the reasons for my insecurity to the point of indecency. In general, they tactfully tried to bring me back to life. That's why I value them.
Only today they were overly excited. Ignoring my fatigue, they chatted incessantly about tomorrow's Halloween until it finally dawned on my sleepy brain...
What the hell... tomorrow is fucking Halloween... And what should I wear for it?
* * *- No. No. And no! “I declared categorically, staring at the box in horror, “No way, do you hear!”
“Then no complaints against me,” Vika shrugged. “I, of course, understand that your finances are tight, but either you take this old suit of mine, or buy it yourself.”
“As if I’m asking you for money,” I pouted offendedly.
“Yes, I would buy it for you myself, but you’re proud of us,” Vika grinned, trying on the cute horns.
Reluctantly acknowledging the persuasiveness of her words, I once again stared suspiciously at the box placed in front of me. However, the sight of tight, black leather leggings, patent leather loafers of the same color with a fifteen-centimeter stiletto heel and lace, a tight black turtleneck with a very immodest neckline, fluffy black ears with clips and a faux wool tail still filled me with horror. Added to this were black gloves with artificial claws on the fingers. Although for some reason the tail confused me more. But trying is not torture.
- It's soon evening. Let’s try it on...” I suggested doomedly, to which the girls squealed with satisfaction and ran away with their boxes.
Here began a whole epic called “Katya is trying to fit into her pants.” No, I’m not fat, rather average, but I’m very far from Vika with her wasp waist. So the whole time I was pulling on these lacings, I managed to explain in detail when, to whom, where and how many times I would have time to put them in if they didn’t fit. And when the miracle happened, I, looking like a disheveled sparrow swimming in a puddle, felt like a conqueror of new heights. The turtleneck fit much better, as did the ankle boots, although I have no idea how I would move on such stilts.
Then, after drying my hair, which was still a little wet after the shower, I decided to put it in a high ponytail. Medium length, unruly, thick and curly, like a lion’s mane - sometimes it was hard for me to cope with them in the morning, but I didn’t want to cut it shorter yet. I've always liked hair color - it's fickle, like me. Sometimes they were light brown, sometimes honey red, depending on the lighting, but more often they were a pleasant straw shade. My eyes are ordinary, honey-brown, even yellowish, like a wolf’s, but I like them. Unusual, no matter what anyone says... Well, it seems so to me.
Otherwise, there is little I really like about my appearance. Average height, normal figure, third size breasts, clear pale skin, Greek straight nose, small but plump lips, neat eyebrows. I'm not a cover girl, but I try to take care of myself for reasons already known. However, for some reason, beautiful makeup always gave me special pleasure. The lightest layer of powder, neat thin arrows on the eyes, moderate mascara, eyeliner for expressiveness, slightly outlined eyebrows, cat whiskers drawn with eyeliner, and bright lipstick. I haven’t worn makeup so brightly for a long time, but... go for a walk! Cute long earrings completed the rather extravagant look. That's it, I'm ready.
Looking into the box, she pulled on thin gloves with claws. She didn’t even try to attach the tail - it’s not like she could stuff it into her underpants so that it would hold on.
Yawning, I stood up, trying myself as a ballerina (with those terrible heels...) and looked around. The girls had long since gotten dressed, appraisingly looking at their reflection in the mirror, then at each other.
Vika, as I already knew, was in the form of a demoness. Her outfit turned out to be more revealing than mine: the leggings were also leather and the same color, the ankle boots were also similar, only red and not patent leather, but instead of a turtleneck, there was a leather top with T-shirt sleeves, red. She curled her hair and let it down - it fell in a silky, shiny black cascade below her shoulder blades. By the way, I'm incredibly jealous of her hair. The makeup is the same as mine, only with the addition of a layer of foundation, emphasizing the contrast of her even pale skin and shining black eyes. To top it all off, there is an elegant black bracelet and earrings that sparkle in the light, as well as artificial black wings of a fallen angel, somehow attached to the back.
Ksyukha, our blonde with a bob, surprised me with a surprisingly high-quality red wig, almost indistinguishable from real hair. The fact is that she, a natural redhead, hated her hair color ever since her most stormy romance ended with the appearance of a rival dyed that color. She has a peculiar quirk on this basis: all redheads are certainly bastards and bitches.
But she looked no worse than Vicki. This fiery color suited her madly, freckled and green-eyed. Somewhere she dug up an amazing floor-length dress, bright blue, shimmering in the light with several shades. The hair was also loose, in a specially created artistic mess, which looked very harmonious and suited the image. Expensive earrings with sapphires, which she was so proud of, and beautiful, expressive makeup completed the look. She really looked like a witch.
Well, Nat... to be honest, she surprised me too. A long emerald-colored skirt, with an ornament resembling scales, almost completely clung to her legs, parting only at the very end to give at least some opportunity to move. The top resembled a cross between a very short top and a bra, like those worn for oriental dances - it made her small breasts visually larger. Suit in emerald tones with silver weaves. Obviously, Nata wanted to create the image of a mermaid, but personally, she reminded me more of the snake from the Slytherin coat of arms from Harry Potter. Probably because of the chosen colors and the sly squinting of almost turquoise eyes. But, I must admit, she looked very good, like Vika, she had something to show - unlike Ksyukha and me, they were actively involved in sports, although they did not overdo it.
Having looked at the girls, I realized that my outfit was not at all as perverted as it seemed at the beginning, and I calmed down about this.
Having stuffed the suit boxes and cosmetics back into the closet, we looked around the apartment again. Everything was ready: everything was cleaned, a lot of food, alcohol, nice decor and everything in that spirit. We decided to invite a few people, the friendliest and nicest guys we knew. They supported the idea with a bang.
Soon all the invitees were gathered, and we turned up the music louder, somehow miraculously managing to agree on this matter with our neighbors in advance.
Chapter 2
“You must behave well this year. If I get an owl again with the news that you did something - blew up a toilet or...
- Did they blow up the toilet? - one was amazed. “We never blew up toilets.”
- Maybe we can try? – the second chuckled. “Great idea, thanks, mom.”
JK Rowling. "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone."
Somewhere…
- Listen, why do you need this? – A bassy male voice boomed tiredly.
- Boring. – A ringing female voice responded artlessly. “You yourself said that mortals are funny toys.” I love them, but a little naughty...
“Oh, okay,” he waved it off indifferently, “You’ll do it your own way anyway.”
“You are right, as always, dear brother,” there was a satisfied smile in her voice.
- Well, who, what world will you throw into? – the demiurge asked without enthusiasm.
“No one has canceled the poke method,” she grinned. “It seems that people in the closed world have a holiday today, when for some reason everyone dresses up as other races.”
– And?.. – the demiurge did not quite understand his sister.
“Well, let them blame themselves for their choice of race,” she giggled, anticipating a funny prank. - Let's see in peace.
* * *Everything was fine. Not even that, everything was EXCELLENT. Wow, we haven't had a blast like this in a long time. After an hour and a half, a decent evening turned into anarchy and bacchanalia. By the end of the evening, the gorilla was screaming obscene songs at karaoke, Dracula was grunting while hugging a bottle of champagne, and the fairy was dancing on the table, waving her magic wand. The demoness, that is, Vika, had already fervently confessed her love to some blonde angel, and he, it seems, was no longer at all against their illegal union. A cross between a little mermaid and a reptile was already sleeping in the corner, I was nearby laughing out loud at some jokes, our red-haired witch was running around the apartment “sitting” on a new broom and screaming old hedgehog ditties. At some point, I began to fall asleep from drinking alcohol, although I drank the least. It was my first drinking session in my life, and... Mom, dad, forgive me, but I liked it!
I think that was my last thought before I fell asleep like a baby with my face in the salad.
* * *“Life is a funny thing, and you never know where a brick will fall on your head...”
Alexey Pekhov. Mockingbird
I hate it when I wake up on the weekend with the sun in my eyes! And I turned this way and that way, but the annoying rays seemed to decide to pursue me. We closed the curtains that did not allow light to pass through...
Out of despair I try to open my eyes. Oh damn, my head hurts!.. It’s like a truck drove over it. Why suddenly, you ask?
Either the ringing in my head was strong, or the silence was dead, but I didn’t hear a single extraneous sound. My sleepy brain was trying to give me at least some information about yesterday.
Oh yeah... Halloween. You can congratulate me on the first drinking session in my life. A baptism of fire, so to speak. But a hangover in the morning does not give beginners a discount.
When the nasty ringing in my ears finally began to subside, I was able to move my hand (lo and behold! I thought that all my limbs were numb). My body ached, as if I had slept all night not on a soft, warm bed, but on some cobblestones. I tried to open my eyes and move, but it didn’t work out very well the first time. Gradually, sensations and touch returned, and... damn it, something was clearly wrong!
I tried to get up. I tried in vain... because I immediately sat back down.
My body, or no longer mine, was COVERED BY WOOL! Moreover, it had shrunk several times, and in general its structure resembled the body of an ordinary... cat?!
“What the f***?!” – I wanted to be loudly and rightly indignant, but instead it turned out to be a plaintive cat meow.
I was truly terrified. Honestly, it has never been so scary. What is this? Dream? Somebody's joke? What?!
My paws gave way and I fell like a dead carcass onto the grass. Wait... grass?!
Jumping up like a cat that had eaten valerian, I looked around the place in which I found myself with a dull, half-mad look.
A beautiful, peaceful forest, not polluted by civilization, just a paradise. Only now this fact has little impact on my stunned consciousness. The only fact that my brain was still able to record was that I was not alone here.
The girls - Nata, Vika and Ksyukha were lying nearby in a chaotic order. I recognized them immediately, because their faces were still the same. That's just...
Seeing new details with my sharp cat vision, I was even more amazed, although it seemed impossible. Still not believing my eyes, I staggered and approached my friend who slept closest to me - Nata. The same familiar face, disheveled brown hair, even the same suit top. But... One small “but”...
Instead of legs, she had a long snake tail.
- No fucking way! “I forgot all the normal words, and no one would understand my meow anyway.”
Is Nata now... uh... naked?!
Yeah, nooo….
“Huh, and this is coming from someone who woke up in the body of a cat” - it was time to laugh nervously.
Swallowing, I decided to incredulously touch this huge nagini’s tail with my paws, making sure that it was real. I even tried to bite. But this idea turned out to be unsuccessful... because the tail, with me clinging to it, lifted me up and threw it strongly somewhere far away. Landing head first on a tree is not the most pleasant thing in the world. Tested empirically.
Having meowed wildly throughout the area, I still didn’t pass out again. And she even looked at the other girls, though not daring to touch them anymore.
Vika was lying somewhere under a tree that resembled an aspen, her neck somehow almost unnaturally arched, still in the same black tights and red ankle boots. The rest was blocked from being seen by powerful, huge black wings - much larger than those from the suit. And they seemed simply obscenely real.
Ksyukha was also lying nearby. Her red, real hair was simply amazing in its longness, health and beauty of color. The wild curls looked a little like a lion's mane, wrapping her fragile body. She was still wearing the same blue dress, and, damn it, she didn’t change a damn thing about the rest!!!
Where's the bitch justice?!
It's time to stop with the swearing, otherwise I'll soon merge with the gopota. But in this situation, I don’t have any decent words or meows.
...for about fifteen minutes I tried to wake up these drunkards. I was already afraid that they had been killed, since they did not react to my scratches, bites, orations for some time. The insidious thought of using them as a tray, so that they would deign to pay attention to me, had already slipped through, but the skin turned out to be more valuable than the thirst for revenge. And finally, my efforts paid off...
Fate is like the keys of a piano,
And although their line is long,
Mixed joy with sadness,
And sadness with joy sometimes.You were kind to me
Protected from harm
And, avoiding halftones,
She played clean scales.And I felt proud
When you gave me a chance.
Now I'm with any chord,
I don't resonate.Fate, be kind as before!
But, skipping the G note,
And ignoring hopes
You press the black G-flat.And no matter how cunning you sometimes are,
To take a detour around you,
You're missing the white keys
And again you press G-sharp.At least I could play the scale,
By pressing all the keys in a row.
But the white one rarely gets there,
Black people are increasingly heard.
Zeev Ariri
The new world is greeted by clothes
Chapter 1
Autumn. Rainy, cold, turning the streets into a mess... In general, it appeared in all its glory. Now October is the very middle. It's been a sad month for me. In general, I am chronically unlucky, but especially in the fall. Probably partly because I hate this time of year.
My name is Katya Sokolova, and I am the most unhappy person in the world. At least for now. Ask why? I managed to fall into a puddle on the way from the university, so much so that I broke the heel on my new boots and stained my white coat, which I got with incredible difficulty. And now, limping, I slosh through the solid puddles to the dorm, trying in vain to pull my head into my shoulders to hide from the annoying rain. After all, I didn’t even buy an umbrella for myself. However, I cannot afford such trifles, because I am one of those same examples of state-funded students who have a mouse hanging not only in their refrigerator, but also in their wallet.
Unexpectedly, deftly maneuvering to avoid collisions with cars or passers-by, I rush to the dorm with all possible speed in order to finally take a shower, wash my coat, sigh over a ruined boot and once again convince myself that for now I am an excellent student on a budget at such a prestigious faculty , as a lawyer, you might think that everything is not so bad.
The entrance was met with the familiar smell of dampness and bleach. When I finally get to our room, I feel like I'm in Nirvana.
My three neighbors - Vika, Ksyusha and Nata - turned around when they heard the quiet slam of the door, greeted me and smiled sympathetically, looking at my suit of a wet, dirty, chilled chicken.
- Why are you so happy? – As a person with the exact opposite mood, I quickly noticed this fact.
They looked at each other silently, as if conferring whether I should speak.
“Well, you know, it’s almost the end of October,” Vika reminded, blowing a stray strand of dyed coal-black hair from her forehead, matching the color of her eyes, in which a herd of devils always danced.
– Should this tell me something? “My friends, it seems, unanimously considered me a redneck.
“Actually, yes,” nodded Ksyukha, a white-skinned, well-groomed blonde with a short haircut. – October thirty-first Halloween.
I finally pulled off these stupid Chinese boots and smiled blissfully.
- And what? - she snorted, - Who celebrates this holiday in Russia?
Nata, a brown-haired woman with blue eyes and a truly Russian braid below the waist, tutted, pouting her lips offendedly, a la “I told you so.”
“I knew you’d be grumbling,” Ksyukha smiled sadly.
“Kat, don’t be a bore,” Vika, on the contrary, smiled mischievously, “This is fun!” My parents are leaving for a while with their younger sister, leaving a two-room hut in my personal and undivided possession for two weeks!
“They’ll give me my salary soon, so we’ll buy food too,” Nata assented.
“We’ll invite the boys too,” Ksyukha joined the general chorus.
All three stared at me pleadingly, evoking an analogy with Shrek's cat. Against these damning arguments, my anti-wastefulness fell within a few seconds of reflection. After all, what normal Russian would refuse a fun evening and freebies?
- Well, since there was such a booze...
* * *
“They don’t just leave this world, they take with them a piece of the meaning of your life...”
Mikhail Mamchich
Arriving at the dorm in the evening after classes, I felt completely defeated. After all, only less than two months have passed since the start of classes, I have not yet gotten used to school. And that mass hysteria that reigned at the end of the eleventh grade could not help but leave its mark. Probably for the rest of my life I will not forget the panic that haunted me day and night before the Unified State Exam. Even me, an excellent student.
In fact, I'm such a lazy person. If there were a better situation in my life in terms of money, I would study with a calm soul and get straight As. But... there is always some “but” that does not allow you to live in peace. In my case, these are the two most important factors.
First, when I was seven, my dad died in a car accident. I was driving to work early in the morning, a truck jumped out from around a bend, he lost control... A strong blow, instant death. Mom was not at home, she was on duty at the hospital, so I answered the phone - a naive first-grader who believes in fairy tales and eternal love. The indifferent voice of the policeman, who announced my father’s death, simply broke me. Destroyed.
We were a wonderful family. Not rich, but very loving, harmonious, like a single organism. We were all incredibly important to each other. Therefore, at that moment my world simply collapsed, I stopped being myself, I became someone else. And childhood remained in the past - where the words “pain” and “loss” did not exist.
Secondly, we already didn’t have enough money for a lot of things, but before dad’s death we lived, and after that we began to survive. My mother is a simple nurse, we couldn’t count on much. I had no treats, no toys, no interesting trips. Coming home, my mother tried to smile in front of me and, looking tenderly at my hair, say that everything was fine, but her smile trembled, and there was bitterness and falsehood in her words.
I was a versatile and ambitious child. I wanted everything at once, but my mother could not give me more than she had, although she gave herself completely, without a trace. I was silent, put up with it and was immensely grateful to her. For loving me, for what he does for me. She believed that I would be able to achieve a lot and not experience such hardships, she was proud of me and invested all her strength. I simply had no right to make mistakes or mistakes. They would become ingratitude. Every summer I worked for all three months, but at school I only got A's. A kind of robot. But still it was easier there... but even now I still have no room for error. Because I had to scramble for a budget place at the full-time law faculty in the most prestigious university in my city, and it’s scary to lose it. Start from the beginning.
At school I had no friends, I didn’t trust anyone. There are plenty of friends. I knew how to smile, take proper care of my appearance, dress cheaply but elegantly and present myself in order to create the right impression. No matter what anyone says, impartiality among teachers is an extremely rare phenomenon. Personally, I have never encountered him. Winning the favor of the teaching staff and classmates was a kind of safety net - every day, coming home and listening to the praises of my extremely tired mother, I felt obligated to be impeccable, although I tried to present it to her as my personal whim - to be the best.
She was “one of the people” for many, she made many new acquaintances every day. So many that all the faces merged before my eyes, sometimes I didn’t even remember the acquaintance when I met a person again. I was friendly and “open” with everyone; the mask on my face became so familiar that it probably became my true face. No one, not even my mother, tried to look under the painted smile, no one tried to understand why I never cry, even in the most painful situations. And I cried all my tears at my dad’s funeral and dried up like a withered flower.
The graduation was pompous and completely unoriginal - everything was the same as everyone else’s, according to a template invented by someone, like many things in this life. By that time, I still had a friend whom I could call real - Vika. She moved to our school after the ninth grade, and we instantly became friends with her. That same feeling when you understand that this is your person. It's simple and easy for you with him. It was not difficult for me to say goodbye to everyone else. We studied together for eleven years, but remained strangers.
Vika and I entered the same university, the same faculty, and moved into the same room. Moreover, all this was precisely an accident, oddly enough. But we were both just glad of this fact - it’s easier this way. There is someone to lean on, and you no longer feel so lonely that you want to howl.
So far I felt like a twig in a stormy sea. I was carried in different directions, I lost firm confidence in the correctness of all my undertakings. And for such a meticulous, almost pedantic person like me, this is scary. And at the same time... unusual.
My friends, who were much more firmly on their feet, tried in every possible way to cheer me up, without dwelling on the reasons for my insecurity to the point of indecency. In general, they tactfully tried to bring me back to life. That's why I value them.
Only today they were overly excited. Ignoring my fatigue, they chatted incessantly about tomorrow's Halloween until it finally dawned on my sleepy brain...
What the hell... tomorrow is fucking Halloween... And what should I wear for it?
The new world is greeted by clothes Anastasia Akulova
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Title: The new world is greeted by its clothes
About the book “The New World is Met by Its Clothes” by Anastasia Akulova
Higher powers also have a sense of humor, and they also get bored sometimes. But it’s just ordinary people like the heroes of Anastasia Akulova’s novel “Meets the New World by Their Clothes” who have to take the rap.
Katya Sokolova always had many problems. The girl was left without a father early, and her mother had to save on everything. I didn’t have any friends at school, although I tried to be polite and friendly with everyone. I trusted few people. But misfortunes rained down on Katya as if from a cornucopia: either the heel would break, or she would get wet in the rain. Even the fact that Katya is an excellent student at the most prestigious law faculty is of little joy when a mouse hanged itself in the refrigerator and there are holes in her wallet.
To entertain her friend, Katya's dorm roommates and friends decide to throw a Halloween party. They are even ready to give Katya one of last year’s suits so that she doesn’t have to spend money on outfits. But an insanely fun party gives way to a morning hangover... in a completely unfamiliar forest. And Anastasia Akulova’s heroines themselves have also changed. The girls turned into those whose outfits they wore at the party. Some became a witch, some a demoness, some a woman-snake covered with scales, but Katya became an ordinary cat, speechless. In addition, the heroines of the novel “The New World Meets You by Their Clothes” are most likely already in another world, where different laws apply. So they have to not only return to their usual appearance, but also somehow return home.
Fantasy “The New World Meets by Its Clothes” is a very light and well-written novel. The heroines have to master new abilities and capabilities. There is no sense of humor here, so there are enough comical situations and jokes in the novel. There are no detective intrigues or a complex plot here. The heroine, who is unlucky in life, finds herself in another world where she is even more unlucky, but having lost everything (for example, her body), she only becomes stronger. Anastasia Akulova does not miss the love line either. At first, Katya is so busy that there is simply no place for romance in her life. But to the magical adventures in the fantasy world is added the first love. How can superpowers help a girl cope with routine problems? And how to find true love if you are nowhere on all fours and in complete despair?
On our website about books lifeinbooks.net you can download and read online the book “A New World Meets by Clothes” by Anastasia Akulova for free in epub, fb2, txt, rtf formats. The book will give you a lot of pleasant moments and real pleasure from reading. You can buy the full version from our partner. Also, here you will find the latest news from the literary world, learn the biography of your favorite authors. For aspiring writers, there is a separate section with useful tips and tricks, interesting articles, thanks to which you yourself can try your hand at literary crafts.
Anastasia Akulova
Meets the new world by clothes-2
Catch your dreams
From the authorI decided to connect my two literary universes with this book: the unfinished series “Traps of Intrigue” (including two books – “Trapped in Despair” and “Only the Last Faith Will Extinguish”) and the short book “Meets the New World by Its Clothes.” Characters from both universes will be involved. Hope you like it :)
Don't plan for failure - life will go topsy-turvy!
Set yourself the task of thinking less about the bad!
Our thoughts are material - don’t think of trouble!
Every word is real - why are you talking nonsense!
How many times have you, by the way, said: “I knew it!”?
So he thought and defamed, dug a hole for himself?
How many times have you cursed and reproached the villainous fate,
And then he looked for a loophole in what he himself said?
The subtle world is somewhere nearby, there are thoughts and words in it
They bloom in a lush garden, twigs like weeds!
Tara-bars, conversations, this and that - verbal rubbish!
Then you climb the fences that you set up for yourself!
Better think positive. Don't whine! Don't be angry! Don't whine!
Don't worry about every penny! Take a break! Can't? Sing!
Sing about joy and happiness, and about life without separation!
You yourself will notice that the bad weather has suddenly receded.
Somehow it became cleaner nearby, something is less unlucky,
Look: the time has come and the soul itself is singing!
You don’t twist ropes with your thoughts, you don’t wag your tongue,
Life goes easily and deftly, and does not rush head over heels!
So, becoming a little wiser, you live easier, more joyfully -
It is you who pave the path along which you yourself walk!
Valentina Leskova
Snow. White, fluffy, like small pieces of clouds, sparkling in the light. Snow. It seemed that he covered everything that exists, and the world turned into continuous, endless, vast white expanses. Nature slept serenely, like a baby, and people around rejoiced at the sunny, relatively warm winter day. And my friend and I were no exception.
Squealing as if they were being cut, small children rolled down a huge fancy slide built in the central square of our city, threw snowballs at them, rolled around in the snowdrifts, and laughed and laughed...
“Here you are, a future journalist and lawyer,” Anya muttered with a smile, “It’s not very respectable.”
“Oh, come on,” I waved it off with a slight half-smile, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the president himself likes to ride a slide before Christmas.”
I'd like to see that.
– Do you remember what we have to do today? “Anya added, playing with her eyebrows, “And just try to get out of it.”
With a doomed sigh, I fell back into the snowdrift. The mood turned sour in a second.
- Maybe it’s not necessary, huh? “I moaned pleadingly, “You’ve already blown my mind with your occultism, you crappy fortune teller.” At least it wouldn't ruin the holiday.
Not that I believe in any such nonsense, but... after you find yourself in another world as a cat simply because you chose exactly such a costume for Halloween and fell under the hot hand of a bored demiurge, you will begin to be afraid of something else.
“But, but, be more polite,” she pretended to poise, “What kind of a sucker are you, huh?” This is interesting. And in general, you already promised me. So it’s necessary, Fedya, it’s necessary.
Alas, this is true. I was probably drunk or after a session, which, in general, is equivalent.
- Why the hell pulled my tongue? - I muttered, rising from the snowdrift, - Okay, let's go home. Childhood in one place has already played enough.
This year my life has changed a lot, it’s just turned upside down. It’s no wonder: I was no longer human. More precisely, there was almost none. I got a second essence, a second “I”, just like in a fucking fantasy. The dearest demiurge goddess left me a gift as a souvenir of my journey to another world: the ability to turn into a cat. And it would be nice if only this: my human half also changed slightly, as if adapting to the animal half. My vision, smell, and hearing became sharper, I became much more flexible, my movements, gait, and gaze changed. Fortunately, I didn’t want raw meat. I became more feminine, more graceful, or something, but it was as if it wasn’t quite me anymore. More precisely, I’m not the same me as I was a year ago. Either something in me broke forever, or, on the contrary, I became stronger.
The world in which I was born and lived for so many years opened up to me from a different perspective. Sometimes at night she let her inner self out and ran around the huge city, feeling free from everything in the world, re-learning what she seemed to know perfectly well. At such moments, everything is completely asphalt roads, countless shops, residential high-rise buildings, neat
