- -
- 100%
- +
Translator Samad Mammadov
© Georgy Stenkin, 2020
© Samad Mammadov, translation, 2020
ISBN 978-5-4498-7680-5 (т. 1)
ISBN 978-5-4498-7681-2
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
Translated by Samad Mammadov
«Metamorphosis-1»
Written By Georgy Stenkin
Copyright © 2020 Georgy Stenkin
All rights reserved
Distributed by Babelcube, Inc.
www.babelcube.com
Translated by Samad Mammadov
«Babelcube Books» and «Babelcube» are trademarks of Babelcube Inc.
“Metamorphosis-1”
or
“Sensation of the Women”
by Georgy Stenkin
And then…
I dreamed
How will it all be
If it is, so…
Chapter 1. THE SHOE
– Excuse me…
“Will you let me pass?”
– Thank you.
– I passed, but I can’t leave.
The restaurant was all in clubs of cigarette smoke, in decibels of the band and in the ranges of the singer. In countless legs, arms, heads and conversations. In the movements of dancing couples and groups, in open backs, in open legs, in open smiles…
There were insidious looks, languid gestures, inviting inclination of the head and graceful, alluring lips licking. Taunts were read, interest and neglect with arrogance. Passion, desire and loneliness with longing.
Hairstyles, jewelry and bare…
Posturing and charm. Shocking and mannerism. Grace and physical education. Intoxication and cloudy eyes. Ecstasy and «ecstasy».
It was all there. Or…
A boat shoe or a sandal? Or are they such open shoes? Some stripes, pointedness and a rather high heel. I can’t make out the color, in this mishmash of spotlights, lamps and lighting effects.
– Get out of here, man.
And where is the white leg in this shoe? Something dark. Stockings? Let there be stockings. I want it so that there are stockings.
Op.
The back of the shoe jumped off the heel.
Wow…
It remains to balance. It didn’t jump off. Swing – once. Swung – in the opposite direction. And hung. nice shoe.
Opened my whole foot and heel. And in the reflection of rotating lamps, or in a directional floodlight? Or – it’s just a shine…
The grace of bending, the curvature of the lift and the bare…
It’s in stockings! This leg was in stocking! I have seen that! Return the stockings!
Yes. She is still in stocking. Only an insidious shoe – exposed the sparkle and brilliance from the fact that you can not hide any stockings.
So what’s next?
Yes you wait. Such a sight!
Tigress grin, the open mouth of a lioness. Shoe and foot. Foot and shoe. Why can’t I hear a loud roar?
I’ll go and, as a trainer, I’ll put my head between the jaws of a predator…
Something somehow and the music became muffled and the cigarette smoke somewhere «stretched out», and the flicker of the resting-entertaining audience diminished. Or it seems to me…
Hypnosis? Bait?
Brr…
Was my cognac somewhere?
– My dear!
– Repeat. Yes. You are welcome.
What? Where?
I do not see. Where is this miracle?
He didn’t seem to notice any laser sight in his eyes. And here – about fifteen meters, probably…
They say that good optics are needed only for hunting expensive «game», so as not to spoil the skin. To hit right in the eye.
That is – right in the heel.
Here. There you go. Focused. The heel is in place. And – a foot, and a shoe – everything also hangs nonchalantly at the very tip…
I’m on my way… I’m flying…
Not. You can’t be such a sucker. As soon as the tigress opened her mouth, I was ready to put my head there.
Break
Time-out.
What do we have next?
You can, in principle, draw your index finger along this concavity on the foot. There is no need. A poor shoe can fall off and fall on this terrible thousandth tracked floor.
Then…
Right next to the heel – there is a bulge. In my opinion – this is called the ankle. Or I’m wrong? It does not matter. Such a small bulge…
How surprisingly is the female leg arranged? Here you have a hollow, and rise, and a heel and a bulge, and concavity.
And this shoe too…
Probably women somewhere up there…
Issue additional parts to their bodies. Stockings, slippers, jewelry, skirts…
Well, how can you separate this shoe from this leg?
It is unthinkable.
Impossible.
Unless I have to take it off myself. Then we will enter into a confrontation with her. She will try to cover up hidden body to the very last opportunity, and I, on the contrary, will try to open a new miracle to the world…
Progress – will definitely win.
Mandatory.
So…
Ankle. Hm. Here again begins some kind of mythical bend.
Mythical?
Because – in my awakened imagination… The ancient Greek amphora sharply «entered». She has almost the same grace, in the same place.
So.
I am sitting in a restaurant.
And look at the female leg. What the hell can there be myths and amphoras?
…
Uh hey?
Where to?
What it is?
The shoe is put back in its place and the leg simply disappears, somewhere in the folds of matter or in the darkness of the bar. I can’t make out.
Well, what is there?
It’s been a while. Dophantized. With his forefinger, the concavity…
Burdock.
Okay. Turning on the data center. What have i seen? You need to understand what it was. And what – it all means.
There are no hopeless situations, there are fools who do not know how to find a way out. So we will not be fools, but we will look for a way out.
Which exit? Where is the way out?
Just like that – shoes are not striking to single men in the prime of life.
We’ll figure out.
Go.
Of course, the shoe has its owner, which of course also owns this leg, the contemplation of which was so brazenly interrupted. The shoe hung in a half-lifted position, about 15—17 minutes. No less. This may indicate that the hostess – feels herself in this stinking smells and tastes, the atmosphere rumbling with notes and sounds, is quite comfortable, without fuss and nervousness.
Therefore, a woman knows her worth. Undoubtedly.
The leg did not swing to the beat of the music, so its owner – either leads a fascinating conversation with her companion (s), or is immersed in her own thoughts.
The fact that there are no companions is an indisputable fact. In the women’s company – she would not be able to sit for two minutes with a fixed leg.
Now – her alleged companion…
If this is a close person, then why didn’t he notice an almost dropped shoe? Sitting too close not to shout down the volume of the music and the hall? Maybe. But, a man can’t sit next to a spectacular woman for 15 minutes and don’t look at her all over – from head to toe. He would – he saw.
And why did I get that she – in general, spectacular. Can…
Not. Stockings, graceful (not fashionable, namely graceful) slipper. The stillness hanging at your very fingertips…
So…
So – or there is no satellite, or it was – but withdrew. Retired to the toilet? And now he came back, and from this the shoe fell into place and the leg disappeared from my eyes?
May be. It may very well be.
Only…
What if?
Not.
Maybe?
Also no.
But what about?
Well, of course.
Would she begin to expose her lovely leg in an amazing shoe for all to see, while her close companion is away?
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.
Chapter 2. FOOT
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…
Crazy power.
How would you describe it more colorful?
Imagine that you are sitting by the fire, somewhere on the edge of the field, at the very beginning of the forest looming over you. Night…
A full sky of stars, as if cast over a whole world – a bedspread with interweaving of drawings. Capricorn, Dipper, Sagittarius… And – who else is there? You are fascinated to look at the plasma riot of fire, with a million languages – from dark red to dazzlingly sunny, licking each other, tossing about in one – led dance…
And suddenly, from there from the hellish inside of firebrands, logs and coals, a comet flies out and swiftly lands on your knee. Hissing, burning jeans fabric and instantly getting to your body.
You scream wildly and begin to jump around the bonfire in a frenzy of papuanism, trying to shake off this pain and this shock.
You didn’t happen – making your way in the jungle, under the drooping vines and big-leafed leaves of marvelous trees, you suddenly feel on your shoulder – a strange weight and coolness. Turning his head – to see that this is something with the thickness of your hand, stirs and tries to find balance on your shoulder. Snake. Awesome. Rather, only her tail.
Not?
Believe me then.
Something between the stinging coal from a fire in your lower leg and the deadly weight of the anaconda falling on your shoulder, something between these two crazies – I experienced now.
Though…
On my knee – lay of amazing beauty, weightless charm and radiating perfection itself – a female leg.
I could not take my eyes off the stocking penetrating through the darkness – the whiteness of the foot, the bulge of the ankle, and the bend… Bends…
The cloth rustled… It seemed that my hearing and my vision acquired the ability to focus right here – in this very place, completely ignoring all extraneous restaurant sounds and the fuss of the bodies around us.
The best friend of men.
Who do you think this is?
You’ll never guess.
The most reliable and never betraying friend of men is a cut on skirts and dresses.
We also have friends. Neckline, lace and transparent fabrics. And of course – fashion designers and designers. But this is all later. Our most important friend is «His Majesty the cut on the skirt.»
And this time – he also did not betray me. Opening, exposing, spreading the curtain…
And showing me the way. Direction. Vector.
On my knee – the beginning of the road lay, and now I could see the path – to the horizon.
But I could not sit in a daze, I was not in an art gallery. Next to me is a living woman.
And I had to raise my eyes…
She smiled. She played with me. She was testing me. She checked me.
She suggested that I go along an unknown path. And looked with a question and with interest…
What will I do? How am I able to do things? Am I a man?
…
When you rush along the highway at a speed of 280 kilometers per hour and with a side vision you begin to catch that your opponent is overtaking you. And you need to decide either on recklessness or on defeat…
Then – like a video, they slip somewhere around you – your actions. Your accomplishments. As if giving you the opportunity to evaluate – this, another act – whether he will be worthy to stand on a par with the already perfect. Or not?
Rate it.
But it’s up to you to decide…
No need to prove anything to anyone. It’s pointless. As if you started arguing with your reflection in the mirror.
Are you doing an act? Or – trust in the course of life. Do you feel like a man? Or are you just a clerk, businessman, worker or doctor? A screw, a bolt, a screw – in the thick board of life, in the mechanism of the world, in the articulation of the world and your life…
…
Looking into her eyes, I lower my hand – right on the rise of her foot. So, that my palm rests, almost completely closing, and my fingers and curvature of the ascent, feeling the tenderness of the stocking and the beating pulse on a randomly caught vein, and my thumb slips under the foot, almost to the heel itself…
She winces. And the look – from the student turns into a wondering and approving.
I am starting my Way.
Wondrous leg
female cats
the heel is softer than a flower,
let me hold on
a little leg
milk white skin,
black stocking
and the foot of a ballerina
passion, and not easy to rise
no more attractive
of this picture,
leg!!!!!!!!
on my knee…
(Svetlana Er)
Chapter 3. Grandfather
My grandfather is here. We need to take a break.
Of course, grandfather will not say anything to me, but at least I need to greet him…
Grandfather, hey grandfather…
What’s going on? Mamin `s relatives also knew how to create thoughtforms?
which kind of thought-forms?
Which Mamin `s?
What are you showing here? Fool.
Here we are. Grandfather is out of motivation.
What did happen to him again? He made it to the elder genereal, and he doesn’t calm down. He called me a jerk.
– Grandfather. What’s a jerk?
Grandfather stopped in the middle of the room and looked at me as if he’d just noticed that I’m in this room, too. And then again, he jumped on me.
– Jerk?
– You – are a jerk. How old are you, granddaughter? А…
– You don’t understand…
He even waved his hand – from disappointment.
– When will first quarter of genereal it hit you? Well…
– In this sidereal – or the next one? These idiotic chronology systems of yours…
– As it used to be – great. Year – decade, a hundred years – century. The fondness of the ear.
– And now what? Sidereal and genereal. Ugh.
– What are you looking at here? Nothing else to do?
– Who told you to take my dad’s bio-memory?
Come on, come on, Grandpa. Calm down.
I’m gonna go get him a street coke. He likes it.
– Here you go, Grandpa. Have a drink. Calm down.
– First of all, I’m not watching. You can’t look at bio-memory, you can only take note of.
– And secondly, it’s easy to call a jerk, and I’m doing my homework, by the way.
– Yeah.
– And I had the first quarter of my genereal was 2 sidereals ago. I already have access to historical bio-memory. Otherwise, your father’s journal, just wouldn’t have responded to my contact.
– And thirdly – the bio-memory does not turn on, but starts broadcasting.
This is what he loves. Reasonable and logical. Everything is laid out on shelves.
My grandfather looked at me and apparently – was collecting his thoughts. I swallowed more street and…
– Come on – rewind a bit and start. Let’s see together what you are doing for your homework.
Excellent. Carried.
Rewind – this means moving in the opposite direction. Launch means starting up the normal course of time. Good good.
Chapter 4. FOOT… AND MORE ABOVE
…
Looking into her eyes, I lower my hand – right on the rise of her foot. So, that my palm rests, almost completely closing, and my fingers and curvature of the ascent, feeling the tenderness of the stocking and the beating pulse on a randomly caught vein, and my thumb slips under the foot, almost to the heel itself…
She winces. And the look – from the student turns into a wondering and approving.
I am starting my Way.
Wondrous leg
female cats
the heel is softer than a flower,
let me hold on
a little leg
milk white skin,
black stocking
and the foot of a ballerina
passion, and not easy to rise
no more attractive
of this picture,
leg!!!!!!!!
on my knee…
(Svetlana Er)
This poem, it seems to me, is very suitable for this entry in my diary. I remember – told Svetlana about this adventure and she wrote this poem. Amazingly accurate and poetic.
But…
I need to go back to the restaurant. They are waiting for me there. I have not finished with the leg…
…
She flinched. And the leg instinctively bent at the knee. Just a little bit…
Ahhh…
Somewhere there, at the end of my journey, a blinding white flash suddenly flashed. As if – an incredible light force burst out of the dungeon – someone or something, but with a frantic desire for light and for me…
This is my friend «cut on the skirt» opened a thin strip of bright and white…
Unshielded, innocent and pure in its whiteness and brightness…