Pearly woman. Prose in English. Natalia Patratskaya
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>Pearly woman
Prose in English
Natalia Patratskaya
© Natalia Patratskaya, 2018
ISBN 978-5-4493-7983-2
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
Chapter 1
Outside the window, worried sea. On the horizon was the white sail of the yacht. The woman watched in amazement at the man who put the peacock feathers in a narrow vase standing in front of the window. She just arrived at the Peacock Palace today, and he doesn’t even notice her!
– Ivan Sergeyevich, what do you do with feathers? She asked, lifting her lush white hair over her head.
– Victoria Lvovna, do not bother me! I am making an antenna, an ordinary antenna, “the man answered, continuing to hide the wires in the peacock’s feathers.
– Why so difficult, dear? You could say mystery.
– Tell you everything! I am minimizing life from trouble. I am watching my kingdom-state and my palace.
“Explain it in more detail,” Victoria Lvovna asked coquettishly, although she was less interested in this. She still hoped that she would return home forever.
– Do you remember the tale of Pushkin: “Reign, lying on your side”? So I fulfill the covenant of the great storyteller. I really like lying prone people.
– Explain to those who do not understand! – capriciously exclaimed the lady.
Victoria Lvovna was still trying to attract the attention of a man.
– Ok, I’ll explain. The fact is that I have a network of listening devices, and the antenna helps me to improve the quality of communication with my employees, and if someone touches it…
– And you are listening to me? – Viktoria Lvovna interrupted him in surprise, straightening the collar of a white blouse. Yes, and she was all dressed in white leather clothes.
– And then! Beloved woman should be under the control of the emperor!
“You are already a count, and a king, and an emperor!” Everything, I was offended.
Victoria Lvovna, the most beautiful of women, thought and sobbed. A mess of words flashed through her mind, which she had spoken at different times and on different occasions. She took a leather case on wheels, which had not yet been unpacked, called a taxi and left for the boarding house, while Ivan Sergeyevich, who was all called Count Peacock, set up antennas in a house that had belonged to him since time immemorial.
The sun was shining and warming. The waves of the estuary lazily ran to the shore. Two girls did not hurry. They lay on the rug, enjoying life. They were good. Desire completely absent. The euphoria of the holiday was complete. No one was lying next to them, so no one interfered with them.
The wind increased from the sea. The young wind was chillingly cold. The wind flew mysterious, in it lurked whole flocks of white butterflies. And all this mystery of nature swirled over sunbathing people. Beach audience began to take a vertical position. People quickly put on bright clothes. Sunny summer day quietly became overcast. One of the girls from the cold began to rotate.
– Bella, let’s go home! – She cried, nervously stamping in one place. – I’m cold and scared. The weather has changed so drastically! These butterflies! I do not like insects with wings! Oh, they got on me! Oh, I’m afraid of them!
The girl rose from her seat. She swung her hat over her head, brushing off white butterflies, bouncing in time with her hat and wind.
– Alla, let’s look at the butterflies. They are so beautiful! They fly so great! When will we meet the living white cloud of flying wings! This is a miracle! – inspired exclaimed Bella, touching her blond hair, looking at a flock of white butterflies.
– What to look at them?! Caterpillars are unfinished! – Alla said irritably, curving with her whole body and showing how she didn’t like white butterflies flying around them.
– I do not know where we rush. Before lunch, two hours. Put the veil on yourself and calm down! Yes stop you twitch! Butterflies do not bite! – instructively said Bella.
– Caterpillar caterpillar, can you not think about food? – a friend irritated her a little.
– Yes, I always want to eat! I always remember about lunch! But it’s so good here! I am pleased to sit on the beach in captivity of white butterflies. And not hot. And so beautiful with these flying butterflies all over the beach!
– You’re killing me! Yes, look at us from the side! If only one guy came to us! As if they are not on the beach! Because of you – lovers of food – and nobody looks at me!!! – Alla shouted.
The words of the girl heard the wind. He circled around the two young men and dragged them along the beach to the girls. Guys staggered in the jets of the sea wind. They were wrapped in white butterflies and, like two caterpillars, fell from a gust of wind at the feet of Alla.
– Alla, you are a gift from the wind! Whom you asked, that and received! Bella exclaimed, quite pleased with the situation. – Look how funny guys are in white butterflies! They are like in white shirts! They have butterflies on their faces!
– Boys honey plastered! They are so sticky that they have collected all the butterflies! – Alla exclaimed scornfully.
– Girls, help out! – shouted the blond. – We have a sunblock honey!
Bella swung the rug over the young people: the butterflies were blown away like a wind.
– I am a junior wind assistant! Bella exclaimed, not taking her eyes off the blond, slowly folding the rug made under the mat and putting it in a beach bag.
Young people began to rise from the ground, trying to shake off the last butterflies stuck to them. They seemed to have grown out of the sand: big and beautiful, young and strong.
– Yura, look what girls! What girls! Shine!
– Pasha, what do you want them for? Are you missing girls?
“So the brunet is Pasha,” Bella said.
“Boys, we are ordinary girls,” Alla said playfully.
“Girls, but we are not from your collection,” said Yura, a fair-haired young man of medium height of twenty-six.
Bella quickly put on her shorts and top. It may seem strange, but she was not in a solid swimsuit and looked quite normal. Alla slowly got up and dressed. The young people looked at the girls with an appraising glance and looked at each other. They appreciated them pretty quickly.
– And you girls are nothing! – Exclaimed Pasha, a young man of strong appearance about twenty-five. – Girls, unite their efforts in holding idle days? Our vacation is not over yet.
“I agree,” Alla said quickly, fearing that they would change their mind, and looked inquiringly at her friend.
All four stood up and left the place where they were attacked by butterflies. The wind quickly flew and quickly disappeared. The coolness remained.
A young man with thin features, with a flexible figure, walked to the seashore. He looked with interest at the three-story palace. The Peacock Palace, as all the locals called it, stood on the first line from the seashore. The sturdy building seemed carved from the rock forever. None of the people living in these parts represented the seashore without this ancient building.
Soon he was already lying in a white lounge chair and was looking at a yacht with white sails sailing on the horizon. He noticed how a white cloud appeared over the yacht and flew to the shore. His name was Ilya. He was bored. He looked sadly at the shore and noticed two girls lying on the sand not far from him. He liked one of them very much. He forgot about the sea, the palace, the white yacht, the sun that burned his shoulders. He saw only her. He saw white butterflies fly at young people.
He thought that the butterflies came from a white yacht on the horizon. Most likely,