Georgy Stenkin - Metamorphosis-1. Sensation of the Woman

This can only be for two reasons. She is not at all satisfied with her hanging out partner at this restaurant. Or – she’s all alone here, but is «in search», «in anticipation». And right now – someone «pecked» while I was doing exercises for the shoe here.

What about stockings?

Or did I invent them for myself?

Well… judging by age…

And I would determine the age of this lady in 32—33, let’s say – up to 35 years.

Why?

How did I manage to determine the age of their owner by shoe and foot?

Ordinary self-confidence? Or what? Yes, very simple.

I’m telling you.

A woman who is in a noisy restaurant sits at the bar and for 15 minutes does not make any leg movements and does not pay attention to the shoe that almost fell from her foot…

This is not youthful energy and enthusiasm, and not attributes of the onset of a second youth, I mean the age of 40—45 years. In both of these cases – there would be movement and a shoe – would have been put in place, in about five minutes. Well, seven…

Therefore – we do not twitch over trifles, it is not so important for us to have all buttons, all fasteners, all slippers buttoned (or unfastened)…

Comfort and grace, charm and confidence in your innate femininity. Naturally spectacular.

Plus – the already mentioned stockings and…

And again – stockings.

We do not take into account the appearance of the legs. Well there…

Plastic surgery, lifting. In spite of artificial interventions, since no falsehood is felt…

There is sincerity and naturalness.

And – therefore:

If she – in fact, is here without her companion to visit this restaurant, then she is no more than 35 years old.

Fact.

The triumph of deduction.

OK.

It is time to advance to combat positions.

Sorry. How do I recognize her?

Peek into all the ladies’ under skirts? Say hello to their shoes?

Damn.

Got into.

Oh, man…

Prince from «Cinderella».

Well…

Where ours hasn’t disappeared!

…

– Excuse me…

«Will you let me pass?»

– Thank you.

– I passed, but I can’t get away…

«I have to get to know your shoe.»

– Because I’m looking for my Cinderella.

– Not. I am not a prince. And I don’t have a second shoe. But mine – I know for sure. Definitely.

She was looking at me. No – not a foot, but – SHE.

It was not a look, it was not a look. It was…

At first I was torn into hundreds of small pieces and at the same time…

Soaked up…

Dragged in…

Sucked in…

Two huge and identical in shape – saucers. No, not saucers. Baths? No – not a bath. Lakes? The ocean?

Two water surfaces located – one next to the other. Like two adjacent pools. From a bird’s-flight distance. Or higher?

Rapidly.

I somehow plunged sharply, with all my hundreds of pieces, and… It seems to be I’m whole?…

At the very bottom of these tanks. Moreover – instantly reaching an incredible depth, where sunlight did not penetrate anymore and in the flicker of glare there was a cold of depth. The lights went dark and terrible permafrost began to bind me…

But now – I was thrown to the surface again. Am I alone and whole? Or am I whole, but made up of hundreds of pieces?

For some reason, I found myself in the left pool and something dragged me from one edge to the other. And back…

Dragged – to the right pool…

And here – already rinsed, back and forth – like underwear before squeezing it.

No need to squeeze me!

Oooh!

Flying back to my place in the restaurant, where I continued to stand, I managed to notice that I was flying – from these same pools. Decreasing in size, they became the huge eyes of a woman.

The woman I spoke to just a minute ago. About her shoe…

What is it?

What kind of obsession?

She was silent. And since I had already visited her eyes, she did not look at me, but looked at the place where I stood, in the expectation that I would nevertheless do something that would make her see me too – on this location.

She already knew everything about me. And that I have a scar under my right shoulder blade, and that in the left pocket of my trousers lies a key card for a hotel room with the number 1244. And that I wandered into this restaurant quite by accident…

And then a place was vacated behind the bar, next to her.

– Will you allow?

I approached her.

And tried to portray with my whole body – the desire to sit on this place behind the bar.

– Nooo.

It sounded.

It’s impossible. This word – sounds different, but from her – it cannot sound. She doesn’t let me sit next to her? Or – does she not understand my question? What – no?

Foreigner?

An alien?

An other galaxian??

So. So. Calmly.

The fact is that the first time I asked her a question, as if asking permission to squeeze past her in the midst of a maelstrom of bodies, but in reality – there was no such need. It was a ruse. I could calmly go through without hitting her. But in order not to leave a chance to disturb her, and cause a «fire» of her attention, I turned to her with this stupid question.

She – and did not move away, and did not nod to me, and did not utter – not a word. Maybe she really doesn’t understand the elementary French language? And now – she can’t figure out what I really want from her?

Yes…

The challenge.

Well then…

Let’s start dancing.

And I began to babble something and with all my accessible gestures and gestures indicate that I want to sit down here – next to her. He lifted his hands to the sky and pressed them to his heart, hugged this stupid chair and made generally ridiculous movements.

AND…

Oh miracle!

She held out her hand – with a permissive gesture and said:

– Daa.

I was happy…

Music thundered, during these few minutes, while I was portraying the ritual or mating dances of the baboons, they pushed me in the back and side, and walked along my left leg. The bartender persistently asked something, one – then the other. I did not understand anything and did not listen to what was happening, like something real.

She let me sit next to her! She understood me!

…

She was alone. And only now I was able to pay attention to her appearance, and to the fact that in her left hand she was holding some wine glass with a tube sticking out of it.

And what a black skirt. And what – a silvery matte blouse. And what is my shoe!!!

It was her!

It’s that shoe itself, on that very foot…

Which so insidiously left me. And here I am again – next to her.

Is there something you need to do? Somehow you need to consolidate the success. Outline the motion vector.

But what is it?

She leans forward a little, lowers her hand almost to the floor…

I don’t see, it’s dark there – the glare of the spotlights does not reach their queues until this darkness – under her feet. Under our feet.

How!

I died!

I am in heaven!

This is a supernova explosion!

I need a break. Give me a moment to catch my breath…

…

She completely threw off the very shoe that swayingly bewitched on her fingers, just a few minutes ago, and the contemplation of which absorbed all my attention.

AND…

You can’t even imagine what happened next.

Miracle.

And she put it on my knee, fished out of the darkness and straightened in my direction – her leg…

In that very weightless stocking…

I was struck by a current discharge, by force – probably…