August, the last hot days of the outgoing summer. August, early nineties. The country has gone mad. Everything turned upside down. The whole, which yesterday seemed such a reliable and stable world collapsed before our eyes, forming a giant mill that grinds everything and everyone. Lifting one up and dropping others to the ground. Everything at one moment was shaky and not reliable. Organizations were rebuilt, falling apart and dying, regularly throwing thousands of human grains into the firebox of this giant mill. One of the thousands of these grains, in one “wonderful” moment, was also found in, a young employee of one of the numerous research institutes. No, they didn’t cut me down and didn’t fire me, but the state suddenly stopped financing projects, and yesterday, which had no analogues in the world of development, were not needed by anyone, and we simply stopped paying wages. And the people reached out in search of the best shares, who were the sellers to the markets, who were then still incomprehensible managers, who began to grow like mushrooms of private firms. After talking with her husband, I stretched.

Having bought a newspaper with employment announcements in the evening, I chose a dozen addresses and phone numbers of firms that I was interested in, circling them with a bold red pen. In the morning, the next day, I sat down at the phone and started calling them. Basically, salespeople or fashion managers were required. Everything sold everything. They sold rags, jewelry, some kind of metal rolled, printed products and other miscellaneous. They sold everything that was possible. I did not know how to sell and could not even imagine how and what to do, but they promised to teach and offered the opportunity to earn big money. I wrote in a notebook the ads that interested me, changed my clothes and hoping for good luck came out in the summer heat.
The day was ending. I traveled around eight little firms and no result, for various reasons, nothing suited me. Tired, I sank on the bench of the subway car and took out my notebook. There were two addresses left. One by one, I definitely did not have time, and the second one could be tried.

I looked at the clock and figured out the time and distance in my mind, it turned out just right, but I decided to try. If I do not have time, it means no luck. Coming out of the subway and passing the railway crossing, I found myself at the glass bulk of the building of the once very well-known publishing house, and now having distributed their premises to various specialized tenants. Holding the handle, I pulled the door open and found myself in a huge sun-flooded foyer under the tough gaze of the imposing guard. I felt like a spy or at least a criminal who wants to penetrate enemy territory and steal the most terrible secret. The guard, a man of about fifty with a mustache and glasses, looked at me with a slow heavy look, my legs, knees, bulging chest, and again my knees, legs, as if searching for a target. I felt like before an x-ray or at least on a gynecological chair. His gaze undressed me, gnawed and incinerated. I did not feel uneasy and my heart sank. I was ready to crawl out into the street, as here, behind the back of the guard, gritted with non-lubricated iron and the elevator doors opened, releasing people to freedom. The working day was ending, and a crowd of people flowed past the guard as an iceberg left their jobs. I looked at my watch, I had five minutes left. It's not meant to be! A thought flashed through my mind and flew away. The thought flew away, but the sediment remained and brought me back to life, giving me confidence.

“Excuse me,” I asked the guard, in a stammering voice, “I am assigned to six for an interview.” Not quite convincingly I lied.
The guard, once again, he burned me with his gaze and, surprisingly soft and as it seemed to me in a peaceful voice, he inquired: “Was the pass ordered?”
I didn’t even think about the pass.What a pass, I did not try to penetrate a secret object, but only into a publishing house. I did not have a pass and it was not even ordered.
- I didn’t know that he was needed, I don’t have it - I was crying wearily. Everything, now definitely not destiny. I felt hurt. Travel all day, now running through the heat trying to catch and because of some piece of paper to be late.
- Eh-heh-heh - the guard made a sound and scratched the back of his head peacefully grumbled - would you have a passport?
I had a passport with me and I nodded affirmatively.
- Come on daughter, write you down, where are you going?
A few minutes later he returned the passport to me and pressed some button - Go! They are sitting on the fifth floor. And making an inviting gesture, he let me into the secret territory.

The elevator doors began to creak again, but now they let me out onto the floor in a long dimly lit corridor with a string of closed doors. Silence, dust and peace. I'm late. The working day is over and the building is empty, but since I'm here, I need to check everything to the end, and I walked around the empty floor in search of the right door. The door was at the very end of the corridor, at the end of the building. The white spot of the plate with the name of LLC and the number of the room informed me that I was on target. The golden pen glistened in the gloom of the corridor and beckoned to itself - Click on me! I slowly turned the knob and pulled the door. The door did not move! Everything is not destiny, and with a sense of accomplishment I turned around and again pressed on the handle and pulled the door harder. There was a click and the door opened silently. A stream of sunlight burst into the corridor dusk, cutting it with a glittering ray. The path is clear! And I stepped into the light, quietly closing the door behind me. The room in which I found myself was not even a room, but a fenced off part of the corridor, connecting three more doors, two on one side and one on the other. A huge, slightly open window, slightly covered with light curtains, looked at me directly, under which stood a large leather sofa, to the right of which a huge green bush grew. To the left of the entrance is a semicircular table, piled high with stacks of paper. In the middle there was an unfinished mug of coffee on a piece of paper, with large drops from its side, forming a brown pool under the mug. In the corner of the table was a large black fax and a fashionable radio telephone. It smelled of fresh coffee and expensive perfume. As if people had just been and suddenly dissolved.

- Ay, there is who? - I did not boldly called.
And at that very moment, as if answering me, there was a roar, the roar of a wild beast. From surprise, I almost screamed and sat down with difficulty realizing that it was the roar of an electric train rushing down the street. I went to the first door and knocked with the noise of the wheels, and without waiting for an answer I tried to open it, but the door was locked with a key. The second door opened, it was a study, a large table with a chair also piled high with papers stood in the center. One wall was occupied by a huge window, and the second was closed by several cabinets filled with colored folders. It smelled of pleasant, expensive female perfume. On the table, towering over the stacks of papers, was a large ladies' bag, in red. Everything suggested that people should be here, but there was no one. There was a third door. I turned around, took a few steps, and stretched out my hand to open it, but this moment the wild beast decided to fly again under the windows, stunning everything around with a wild roar. The wind flowed into the room, spun, lifting sheets of paper on the table, hit the closed door, opened it in front of me, burst into the room and dissolved. Not yet realizing what had happened, I felt the numbness of my legs and my blood, in boiling streams, rushing down into my lower abdomen toward a rapidly expanding and opening vagina.

The door opened, forming a narrow slit. The room was not fully visible, but just opposite the door ajar there was a large, angular double-winged wardrobe with mirrored doors, on the screen of which the action taking place in the room was displayed.The room was the size of two previous ones, with three tables littered with papers and some kind of boxes, on the sides of which stood chairs and bedside tables. A young man with his head tilted back was standing in front of one of the tables, having turned his hands back and leaning on the table. White ... Read more →