Rus Articles Journal

Lessons of English

Monday, April 21. With great impatience I adjust time because again I will see it. Though as it is possible to adjust time? I do not understand. Relentless Time. Imperceptible Time. Irreversible Time. Here it can adjust, hurry, force to rush us somewhere, rashly, and how we can it, Eternal Time, adjust? Naive. However, the speech not about it. And about It.

It. It will come soon. Woman. Stranger. Beautiful Elena. Far and inaccessible, as goddess. One thought of It goes hot me. She can not pronounce the word, not to move, sitting having hidden opposite, not to look even at me huge and damp as two pure ponds after a summer rain, a little slanting, eyes, and, nevertheless, at me are intercepted by breath and heart begins to beat without restraint from one thought that It somewhere nearby that It is, and once I give a hand, I will touch her gentle skin, I will feel heat of her body, I will hear as life runs on veins.

ring a door. I shudder, I break as the sprinter on start, from the place, but right there, having come round, I try to get it together, I am a teacher, and she is a schoolgirl, and I should not behave as to the seventh-grader, in love with the teacher. I correct clothes, hastily I take a brush on hair, I inspect myself in a mirror, and quickly I go to a door, managing to abuse on the road myself for silly childishness in love.

Having opened the door, on a threshold I see it. On a landing the twilight and therefore it seems that it is dressed in all black, only a pale face as if covered with icing sugar, as at the Japanese porcelain doll. “You pass, I ask you“ - excessively tseremonialno, it is rather politely old-fashioned, but is not easy modern, I say not by the voice, and, having been confused, I hurry forward as if to show the way to it, actually trying to hide the awkwardness. She passes

, carefully and slowly, attentively looking herself under legs as if she is afraid to stumble, and I behind admire her tripping gait, its thin, slightly inclined on one side, a neck, I inhale aroma of its almost inaudible spirits, mixed up with a smell of a young female body, but then, having suddenly come round, I go as though to turn off the light in a corridor, actually to calm a little the breath and to wipe the perspiration which acted on a forehead. What I am a blockhead that so I worry!

I here, we sit at a round table that in a drawing room. Only one and a half meters divide us. I begin a lesson. Then I ask it to read something. It begins. I listen. And though she makes very many mistakes and not all words pronounces correctly, I do not hurry to correct her. I so do not want to interrupt it. I cannot tell that it has a beautiful voice, rather a little sleepy and monotonous, but surprising put, from its sounds I fall into some sweet istoma, even a dozing stupor. I from tops to toe have goose-pimples as happens sometimes in a hairdressing salon when the hairdresser quietly touches your hair, and I almost close eyes, so to me is blissful.

She becomes silent. Looks at the small watch on a wrist. It has suddenly huge scared eyes as if she is afraid to be late somewhere. The lesson is ended. I absent-mindedly give it some tasks for the house. I see off. I open a door. We say goodbye, or not, we speak each other “good-bye“. I slam a door and I lean back all over on a wall. I am weak as the baby. What is with me? What for a whim? I wind the head as the boxer after a knockout, trying to come to a form. Yes, what is with me?!

Wednesday April 23. It did not come in due time! What could happen? I am so concerned as if I know for certain that to it there was something bad, serious. And however, what to me put? What to me, in general, business to it? We even not lovers, and I worry for it, as for the person close to me. It is necessary to get it together! I am present no business at all to this young woman whom I saw only two times in the life! Any! I have the life, the problems, the affairs. I had one hundred schoolgirls like it. I do not remember more than a half of them any more. So why I am so excited?! It can never come at all any more! And I do not intend …. Ring a door …

Ya I direct to a door like the pearl diver at whom air reached a limit and which from all forces makes a start from a sea bottom, directing there where the sun because there life shines. I open the door, and I see her big scared eyes. I am sure that something happened, something, for certain occurred. But a second later her slanting eyes ozorno smile, almost laugh. What? … Ya … Now I understand that she laughs at my ridiculous uneasy look. “I will forgive forgiveness for delay“ - she says the monotonous voice. “Yes, anything terrible. It is all …“ - I look for hours to define on how many it was late … Twelve minutes of the fifth. It was late for twelve minutes. For only twelve minutes. And it seemed, at least for half an hour. It passes

, on a habit, in a drawing room. Gets textbooks, notebooks. “We were detained at work therefore as I did not try, in time was not in time“ - but in its voice I do not hear a regret. It seems to me, she still laughs over me as if she solved all my secret thoughts. I think that she guesses as all women in such cases that it is pleasant to me, and it it terribly amuses. It almost enrages me, but I constrain myself.

This time it sits down on my place, and I on it. I have a habit from time to time to be interchanged the position with the pupils - it brings some variety shkolyarny routine - the pupil suddenly appears on the place of the teacher, and the teacher on the place of the pupil.

Bright light falls it on a face, a low-necked breast, thin hands. Now I see what it is actually. Before, artificial lighting in a hall, its place a back to the sun did not allow me to make out it well. But now it clearly. And she knows it! She knows that light completely gives it, undresses her, and she tries, tries to be a woman - that is to be pleasant.

Ya I see it darkly - the nutbrown hair falling an abrupt wave on narrow shoulders. I always thought that I like blondes, and there are I it is crazy about brown-haired women! Complexion is opaque, almost pale. Skin as porcelain, unnatural, flawless. It seems that it shines from within, it is so unnatural dairy - an opaque shade which proceeds from it. The nose of the correct form which is slightly hitched up up that if to trust fiziognomist, speaks about crafty, fervent character. The mouth is small, but lips, rather thin, than chubby.

It raises on me huge … gray eyes! I that thought that I eyes at it black, and now, in bright lighting of the room, see that they as a wing pigeons. Huge, gray - gray, as the autumn sky during bad weather, eyes! It is very graceful

, is even aristocratical, but at the same time not pretentiously and is very individual. Alas, presently there are more and more attractive stylish girls and young women, but almost all of them who are unconditionally paying a craze on inkubatorsk are similar the friend on the friend. Less what does the woman by the woman there is more and more unisex. The short, unified hairstyles a la garson, pushed aside wheaten, rye and black nayadina the falls of hair fitting jeans of all colors and a coloring pushed aside eternal so womanly dresses, skirts, sundresses. And my schoolgirl in a sort, for certain, had noblemen. I do not love the word “breed“ - it is suitable for a dog more likely, than for the person, - and all - in it is felt “breed“, a certain aristocratical crape - about such the poet wrote “Your eyes as two agate, as two jumps from darkness. Tell in what way, what deception in the twentieth century you made the way? “.

I do not think that I am good as the teacher. I dream and I sleep on our occupations, unwillingly giving some tasks then slowly to watch the princess or to bathe in waves of sweet luxury with which the sound of its bewitching voice fills on me.

But, a lesson is finished. I on a habit as the gallant gentleman I leave quickly to a door. I open. We speak each other “till Friday“. The door is closed. At the apartment still there is its smell, its aura, its fluids. I deeply inhale, to dizziness. Really, I fell in love? How boy? Here, it would be amusing!

Friday, April 25. It as before, came and I am simply happy. I carried out all previous day in some lazy, even gloomy, melancholies, thinking of it. I found

Mary Chavort`s portrait In the papers, the charming person whom the fat lame boy was hopelessly fallen in love, young lord Byron and who married later as it then often happened, for the elderly prosperous aristocrat, and was simply struck by amazing similarity of a portrait of the beloved of young Byron to my princess. Mary Chavort. Mary. Ah, Mary, Mary! And why you broke heart of the little lord, you killed him then, took away from it the most expensive that can be on the earth - his love, his dream. “Fruitless places where I heart was young, Ansleysky hills! Storming, you were dressed a shaggy shadow by cold of the revolting earth. There are no former light places where heart so liked to have a rest for hours. To you, Mary, for me in the darling`s smile any more not to begin to shine“ - wrote later poor left hromysh.

And so, we became much closer. She briskly tells something to me, having absolutely forgotten about occupations, I with pleasure listen to her. She is easy, living, more I am not confused. Also does not throw me into attacks of shyness and confusion any more. My feeling to it became even stronger, deeper, more reliable. Feeling? What feeling? How to call it? Love? Love? Or just excess of tenderness of the man to the woman? I do not know. But what it was how was called - what difference - I feel pleasure of life, I exult! My heart is crowded and here - here will spill too much!

Today on it the charming short dress which is slightly opening knees. It is very womanly, is even sexually attractive, but not the vyzyvayushcha, in it is secret. I am so glad that she prefers to jeans and trousers classical womanly style that it is ready to kiss it hands as a token of gratitude. She reads to

homework. It holds with one hand the book, another is based upon a table. It has long dairy fingers with a pink marigold. I put the hand nearby. I so want to touch her fingers the that I hardly do not give in to this vicious temptation, and I am terrified this thought because I represent how I will frighten it of the proximity.

Is amusing, but at its presence I feel as the boy. Before for all the pupils, even for those who were more senior than me I was a teacher - the figure is strict, exacting, authoritative. For It, for my princess, I, probably, as the companion, the friend or still who. I think, she feels that it is pleasant to me, and it gives it confidence.

One more lesson is ended. We speak “good-bye“. The door slams. The deaf rumble of the elevator is heard. I a bullet take off on the platform, I run to the next window and I put out the head from the ninth floor. In five seconds I see it leaving an entrance. It goes to a stop, I with pleasure catch its last outlines, mentally sending It the silly adoration, the Platonic love. Mary, Mary`s

! Fall in love with me and you will make me the happiest of all mortal!

Monday, April 28.

my princess called and reported that she will not be able to come to occupation. Told that after work it had urgent matters. On the first of May, also, a holiday, and it will not come. I believe that she too trifles of our occupations. I tried to din into it that it is necessary to relate to language more seriously, but I do not think that my voice was convincing.

Ya I will not see it the whole four days! Grief to me, unfortunate!

Friday, May 3. At last It again with me! To hell English! We sit and we talk about everything and there is nothing as old friends who know each other not the first year can even as future beloved. How many tendernesses radiate her fine eyes, light and streams from them! I am afraid to look long in them because I am afraid to go blind. Today it collected by

the ringlets on a nape, having bared a neck, only two thin locks ryzhevato - a nutbrown hair, were disobediently beaten out as if beat off all and touchingly lay down on her gentle skin, and I feel that I was gone. The woman`s neck, along with her eyes and a figure, cannot leave the man indifferent. I and want to touch with lips this gentle part of its being. But I understand, my idea how is mad.

For five is rumpled until the end of occupation, suddenly, heavy rain begins. He alarmed looks out of the window. How to it to go home to such bad weather? It, without umbrella. I say that I a rain for a while, and in soul ask: “My God, let it goes longer. Let she will stay here, near me some more minutes“.

But, alas, in five minutes heavy rain really stops. We say goodbye, as usual till Monday.

Wednesday, May 5. It is, probably, the happiest day in my life! I invited her to appointment, and she agreed! Or rather, it is difficult to call it appointment, just I suggested it to take a walk together in the evening.

But the fact remains! She told “yes“!

All evening we wandered about twilight avenues of Pushkin park, ate ice cream, listened to birds, people, the street. Ah, as well in May in park! I spoke much, cleverly, and she listened to me. Probably, I was similar to a peacock, is proud spreading the tail. Big deal!

it Turned out that it, as well as I, a bookworm that in the childhood it also played a piano that, as well as I, she hates rudeness and that to corporate rest is preferred by an outdoor recreation. At us there is so much general!

Wednesday, September 5, 3 months later. I made the proposal of a hand and heart to the princess, and she accepted it! My heart exults, I all am full of convulsive impatience. Closer by November we will celebrate a wedding. For now it is necessary to make so many preparations still. As you can see, English lessons did both of us good.