I did not see them, just heard the noise. Having found a mouth freshener in my bag (instead of CS gas works fine), I went up to the attic. Something was smoking there and someone was scolded with bad words. When the door opened with my help, there was a couple beyond the threshold. He was crouching on one leg, tying the laces on his shoe. With shaking hands, she recounted thousand-ruble notes.

- On, you bastard, maybe you do not choke! For the first time I see such a miser. Well this is necessary, to demand the surrender for unshaven armpits! I knew, you are not going to the Palace Hotel, where I can shave my armpits, fucked up pussy guy! And do not like it, scram and forget the road. Clear? - The lady in a rage pushed out a peasant who sweated from excitement at the door and looked at me with a grin, who was still holding a deodorant can in her purse.

- Well, what about you? With women do not fuck. And with children, by the way, too. When I explained that I had come to the noise, she went limp and begged:

- And you will not light me? Do not need anyone about this. I rarely come here! Having promised that I would not knock the “opera” and treated Fifu (as she introduced herself) with a cigarette, I heard the following.

Fifochka homelessly consciously ignoring her official refugee status and the hostel where her fellow refugees live.

She lives not in the attic, but in a quiet alley, in an evicted house, quite comfortably: without gas and electricity, but with hot water and heating.

Even there are neighbors, Muscovites, newlyweds, who fled from caring parents. Neighbors gave Fife rocking chair. They quarreled about how much to sit in it, and decided not to tempt the fate of the villain. In return, Fifa gave them her favorite and the only watercolor “Ducks Are Flying”. Watercolor she wrote herself, and now embroiders tablecloths for sale. Due to poor lighting, she gets up at eight in the morning, works while it is light, and walks in the evenings. In the most direct sense. He says he is not afraid. Yes, and what to fear, she is dressed stylishly, but poor, money, well, if it happens, then no more than ten thousand, and fuck, so nazdorove! Fortunately, the hostel is attached to the medical unit, preventive check-ups are encouraged, and whatever you pick up, all medicines are given out for free.

I said that Fifa is stylish, and I made no reservation. Good taste allows you to have a style with low incomes. Spacious long skirt of black crepe (left after her husband’s funeral), fitted jacket embroidered with black glass beads, cheap rag shoes, but also embroidered with glass beads. Because of these slippers, she was called Fifoy, and she made the jacket, having already moved to Squat.

Like Fife Moscow, only lonely happens without a husband. And with sex in general problems. Neighbors, respecting her life principles, offered to meet a friend, but she does not want to bring the men to her nest, and the mind does not want to go to unfamiliar uncles. So she goes to train stations and is looking for men, or rather, they find her themselves, and Fife remains to determine how safe it is for life and health. By the way, help, that she is healthy, there is, and it seems, not fake.

The adventurer hunts according to the scheme. He sits on a bench, smoking and nervously glancing at his watch. After about 10-15 minutes, they begin to sit down to her.

If her experienced look doesn’t like something, she immediately dismisses it politely but unconditionally. Well, if the object is "correct", a conversation is made.

I am a bum, says Fifa, I live in the attic, but not contagious, and shows a certificate. If the uncle does not immediately run away, agree on a price.

Fifa is a young, pretty woman, and the element of debauchery in the attic is exciting and bargaining for many. Yes, and it takes cheap, an average of five dollars per hour, and that is of principle, and not for personal gain.

Apart from the smell of rotting pigeon droppings, it is even cozy in the attic. In the far corner there is a bed, covered with a bare carpet, a raven effigy is nailed to the wall, apparently from a school zoology office with an inscription on a pedestal: “Raven. The bird of the family of crow ravens.Length up to 65 cm. Over one hundred species: crow, raven, daw, rook, forty, jay, kuksh ... "

In front of the bunk on an upturned beer box - a tulle flap as a tablecloth - a globe on a broken leg and an ashtray in the shape of a skull full of cigarette butts. Fifa loves, after seeing the next client to sit in the lair of loneliness and run her finger over islands and lakes, dream of warm countries, where under every palm tree you have a house and the whole sea is a jacuzzi bath.

I reminded the homeless dreamer that one such comrade, in search of happiness, reached Tahiti and lived among the palms and beautiful serene women, along with the fruits of paradise, tasted all the pleasures of syphilis, and in the prime of his life gave God his soul. True, he managed to create pictorial masterpieces, which posthumously glorified him.

No, Fifa is not going to hurt either syphilis or AIDS, and she didn’t even have a trivial tripper. Lucky and careful. In addition, sex is her only joy in life, and orgasms give a feeling of flight, and after all, humanity was not bothered by the idea why people are not birds. So she found her wings in the attic, and so she likes these flights, that it doesn't matter, alone or with someone else.

I asked if it's all the same, isn't it easier to masturbate and “fly” until the wings fall off?

Not. She, as a true woman, needs strong hands to smooth out feathers, energize, and themselves charged in return, also want to take off. But this does not happen often. Most of her men for flying lack either courage or patience, and having limited themselves to elementary sperm excretion, they do not relax the brain and until the end of sexual intercourse remain trapped by the will of an obstinate male.

Once in the attic something tragicomic happened. The vigorous grandfather, who had flared up with passion, was overexcited and did not take place as an eagle soaring in the sky. From frustration, he freaked out and began to nag: “I want it too! The war was all over, with the nurses in the trench, through the breastwork, he harped, and did not know that they were flying like that! ”

Fife had to lay down his wings and work on a veteran of the Great Patriotic War. Grandfather took off. To celebrate, the old warrior decided to sbatsat "apple" and curled up in a fit of radiculitis.

So as not to light the cozy bomzhatnik, the grandfather agreed to cheer on Ivanovo carpet, good, the old man was lonely. Fifa was a good nurse. So good that after recovering for a week, grandfather Potap Savelich suggested Fife to move to his apartment, and in order not to miss the attic, he promised to arrange something similar in the bedroom, even the globe volunteered to repair it.

Having appreciated the noble impulse, she refused, but she wrote down the address just in case.

Slightly embarrassed by their lack of foresight, I wondered what kind of flights, the meaning of which the farther, the less I understand, and especially after the story with my grandfather. Well, yes, Fifa smiled, this is my late husband invented. I have long wanted to brag to women. Fifa raised the candle higher and lit the beam with a well-hooked hook. Gallows. She is a sadist, I guessed, and again climbed into her purse for deodorant.

No, not the gallows - she smiled, seeing my quiet panic the harlot, and took from the dark corner a block with nylon rope, a strange big basket, similar to a linen, but with low sides and wide apertures, and hung the basket over the bed.

“With the help of the block, I adjust the height,” explained the slutty little bird, smiling slyly, “But what next to show?”

“Yes,” I still haven't guessed.

- Here is a medium size vibrator, from the husband left. I fit into the basket, my partner hangs it at a convenient level, and with one hand pulls my charms with a vibrashechka, and with the other - turns the basket like a steering wheel! I do not control them, each man acts in his own way, and each time I sincerely think that this last one is the most skillful, the best. You understand it yourself, in such conditions you are not very masturbating, you cannot do without male power, otherwise there will be no flight - Fifa smiled a little guiltily.

“Well, well,” I was impenetrablely unsteady, “and how are they flying, men?”

- Yes, everything is the same, just pushing me towards my intimate member, and I caress him with my palm or in my armpit, if I am long.And the other hand basket carousel ...

- And what, really looks like a flight?

- Want to try? - insinuatingly asked attic hetero ...

And in fact, why people are not birds, I thought, closing my habit out of habit: since childhood I have been afraid of heights.