Why gas stations never sell flowers, He thought. Clearly, she responded from the inside ... Flowers, as you could see, sometimes decorate lampposts along the road ... Selling flowers at a gas station is a mockery of you, who stopped here for five minutes in pursuit of her own “frontal” road. In addition, where did you see that in the flower shops to haggle gasoline? ... That's the same thing.

The gas station on the night Aminevskoe highway (one name is worth it!) Was deserted, modern and clean. The white roof and several square columns made it look like a small temple, a kind of pantheon for the visiting God. The walls of the column were sculpted by rain and darkness, they seemed eternal.

Every time he drove to the column, he remembered the same thing. It was a frame from the film, very old, looked-up-and-revised by a boy in a provincial Soviet cinema. There, in the frame, there was the same column, and it was also raining, and the protagonist beautifully lay under him, leaning on the hood of his racing (or non-racing) beast. And it was also night, and the square light rug hospitably accommodated the whole world, leaving behind the wall of the night rain all the enemy, alien, evil. Then this whole frame seemed like a piece of a fairy tale - fancy columns, neon "Shell" on the peak, unprecedented politeness of the boy of the tanker. Neatness cash windows. And, of course, She, standing at the next column in anticipation of her turn, is beautiful, lonely, waiting for a miracle ... lantern.

Night. Track. Rain. Lamp. Gas station...

He fumbled in a whisper and got out of the car. Corner stomped to the checkout and grumbled dark silhouette behind the window: "Fifty in the ninth ..." The boy had already unscrewed the lid of the fuel tank, the silhouette hand threw the change in the tray. He took the money and went back ...

Rain pounded on the roof, as if a lone traveler, chilled before the linen. Outside the column lay a wet Moscow, with wolf eyes in its windows. Their flock silently kept away from this dangerous place with fiery water.

He got into the car. He turned up the music. In the right rearview mirror, he saw a boy who fucked his baby in the gas tank, shoving a thick iron eld there. The baby responded with a murmur in secret places and seemed to be pleased.

He himself was gentle. Ridiculously, unacceptably gentle with their women. Since one of them said these terrible words to him: “You fuck like a woman ...”, He survived many unpleasant moments trying to improve. He learned to be a rude, cruel lover. He learned to beat his girlfriends and with disgust surprise he realized that they liked it. He went through a school of humiliation and malice, in order to keep up with his drinking companions. It was a part of the ritual; He accepted it submissively, understanding that otherwise it would simply not go further. But here, at gas stations, left alone after a hard day, he allowed himself to relax. With one wave of the hand, all the dirty, superficial, and on a narrow strip of ebb among the shells in which the sea sings, was cut off, She remained standing. She is the only one that looks like Anouk Eme ...

He knew everything about Him. Together they walked a strange path from the Komsomol leaders to the voting hyparos on the track, from the hipares to the young hyenas of a new life that stopped at a crossroads, from the crossroads to different ways of survival and salvation. He knew that She was dragged away from Morrison, although all her youth danced under “Boni-M” and the Italians. He knew that She would never be a mother to her children, but would be his girlfriend and the third (fourth, fifth) child in the family. He knew that she would beg him to buy a microwave, but he would only cook on a grandmother's cast-iron frying pan, swearing at the old gas stove.He knew that for Her love is a kiss, and that is why She had the reputation of a uniform mop in due time, not to mention the present one. He felt the approach of Her big and real tenderness, as the boy laid his ear on the rails heard the Vulgaris electric train, long before the dull clicking of the rails announced the whole world about her appearance ... He loved and waited for her to this day, although he managed to acquire armor for all occasions...

Fairy Gas Station - is a strange bomzhevataya old woman who can not be seen with the naked eye. But it exists, and try to challenge this fact. If you wait for your Fate for a really long time, she will wrap her dry, wrinkled face towards you and reward you for your patience ...

When the boy took the check out of the flesh of the Baby Grenades and was about to close the gas cap, a miracle happened. Or did not happen. Who knows these wonders? ..

Out of the rain, shaking himself like a dog, the One Character entered the square-ring-like world ... On a beautiful car, like a toy, She crossed the Pale of Dream and got up twenty inches from Her Happiness. By this very Happiness, she also needed ninety-five, and She inevitably had to form a queue to a single spring for foreign cars, opened at such a later time ...

He smiled, grunted starter and got out of the car. The new time taught him decisiveness; there was no time to think. The music of Nino Rota sounded, the stage set off, like a freight train, creaking on bends and waving powerfully at the waybill. In the distant seventies, the boy put his hand in his pants, either intending to find a seed there, or if he decided to swing the whole row of chairs screwed to each other with his cheeky quenching of hunger. There was nowhere to retreat again. He got used to it, and every time he retreated with surprise at the fact that the world remained standing, where he stood ...

She came out of her toy and approached him, smiling. She looked like Stefania Sandrelli, and the music of Nino Rota was only gaining momentum. The clarinets have not yet entered, but the violins have already prepared a quagmire, leaving a few chances to walk ...

- Have you broken? - She asked.

“Alas,” he answered, and each broken bone of his soul responded to this question with its creak.

- Sorry ... Can I help you with something? ...

Recall that the rain did not stop. Its walls were in place, and the small Pantheon, cramped for two Gods, threatened to rise into the air with all its contents. The boy tried to reach out to Her car with a hose, but nothing came of it. With a shrug, he returned to the warm nook, letting events take their course.

And the events went on as usual ...

***

... She really loved Morrison, although she always danced to Boni-M. However, the scandalous guest "Pere Lachaise" and now did not give rest to her poor heart with a bird beating in it. She loved children, but treated them with crony warmth, not even allowing for the thought of maternal rigor. She understood their passions, and she locked herself with the children in the nearest closet to curse the adult world with its blindness and heartlessness in a whisper. If she had to cook, she took out the grandmother's frying pan and roasted on it the world's most delicious meat. And further. She did not like sex. Or rather, she did not like rudeness in love, and found the strength to repel each boyfriend, stepping over the invisible line ... You see, she really liked to kiss ... And more. She had never seen night gas station movies, but she liked the walls of the rain very much, and she instinctively reached for the first to fall in order not to feel completely lonely and useless ... and now the lady cashier, was like two drops of water similar to Anouk Ame ... Although the guests of the gas station saw only her silhouette, lit by a black and white cash register monitor.

She liked this aging boy standing above the hood of his “Merce”. He was from here, from this loneliness, from this night rainy gas station, filling the people and their cars with something that will allow them to move on ...

- Fuck your mother! - said the fairy gas station, sitting down next to her dark silhouette: - And so - all my life!

Then she looked around and added:

- Do not see you at all, daughter. Conjure, do not concoct, but it's time to change the light bulb.

She laughed, ringing, as only children can laugh. And poured a strong coffee fairy.

And the boy slammed the hood of his baby and went with a new doll in the rain. Which still nobody and from what did not wash.

- Zis from the end ... - Jim sang.

“We'll see,” she answered.

Fairy choked coffee and melted in gasoline pairs. She was left alone. Except for the rain, of course. © Mr. Kiss, One Hundred Splinters of One Sense, 1998–1999