Very bad English / Очень плохой English. Яна Варшавская. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Яна Варшавская
Издательство: ИП Березина Г.Н.
Серия: London Prize presents
Жанр произведения: Современная русская литература
Год издания: 2019
isbn: 978-5-00153-198-2
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the hoop earrings.

      Then I pulled off my jeans and threw a worn top. I fluffed the pillow and fell asleep.

      The last thought that flickered in my blurred mind was: «Thank God I'm alive!»

      Morning always comes of a sudden…

      First there is night, night and darkness… And suddenly, cannonades of sounds explode at once: the sound of a tram, the howling of the wind, the rustle of car tires… The head is buzzing, but you can raise it.

      God, how could I become so limp! I opened the window. Morning burst into my room with a cascade of unusual sounds and smells. It smelled of sea and flowers. An amazing cocktail of incredible freshness and triumph of nature.

      It seemed that the Universe had long ago forgiven me for yesterday's weakness and was already preparing the most fantastic adventures. I only had to show a hint of interest. But…

      I went to the mirror.

      The mirror obviously flattered me: no dark circles under my eyes, no bruising on my face. Like an innocent baby! I looked closely…

      You are old, mirror! Just like I love. I love to look in slightly unclear mirrors like this one. My face looks as if covered with an invisible film of time and acquires some inexplicable radiance coming from within… Either the soul, as I believe, or the mirror itself, which is also quite likely.

      Winking at myself in the mirror, I unpacked my suitcase and chose a dark blue gauze dress. It was pretty cool, and it was perfect for the first outing in the city.

      That day I planned only a walk and a trip to the Aquarium. Doremi talked my ears off, talking about his last year's impressions, and took my word that it was on my first day in Dubrovnik that I would go straight there and report back online.

      Doremi, of course, had his own oddities, but this did not compare with his merits. Therefore, I did not complain. If he wanted me to be in the Aquarium, well, so be it!

      As soon as I gathered my hair in a bun, the phone vibrated:

      «Why didn't you call back yesterday?» Eva asked, trying to sound serious, but I felt she was smiling.

      «Well, I'm sorry. I got nervous. That damn plane barely landed on the second attempt,» I replied.

      «Typical you! Flew somewhere again. Where are you this time?»

      «I'm in Dubrovnik! Didn't I tell you? Well this was my dream since last year!» I exclaimed.

      «Don't forget to bring me a magnet! When are you going back?» My sister asked.

      «I'm planning to go to Spain for a short while… But I will be home in two weeks.»

      «Have a great time there!»

      «Roger that!» I closed the door and headed for the elevator.

      Eva's diary:

      November 23, 2003.

      Sunday.

      It's 1 a. m.!

      Mom just went to bed…

      This histo[4] will drive me crazy!

      It's good that mom is so pitiful. I gotta kiss her tomorrow.

      We spent the whole evening drawing cartilage and bone tissues!

      I didn't expect mom having such a talent…: —))

      Pasha said she could draw a map.

      Pasha's mother arrived at the November holidays and also helped him draw connective tissues!

      That's it!

      I'm going to bed.

      Chapter 9

      The Aquarium

      The most remarkable thing that, without a doubt, makes the morning good, is a cup of the right black coffee. Thanks to my student mate Olga, I acquired this good habit and stick to it until now, especially on vacation.

      There's also another habit which is not that good… After the first meeting with Eve, I started wearing heels. Even in paving stones of an unfamiliar country. It's terribly inconvenient, but I can't do anything about it.

      Three years ago, when I was on a 12-hour walking tour of Amsterdam, although with a 2-hour sunset from the tavern, I was almost dead on my feet, but I didn't take off my stiletto ankle boots. However, late at night, waiting for the bus, for the last half hour I was literally clinging to the hand of Dmitry Sokolov, a young guy from Krasnodar, a beginner and a very talented poet, who also arrived in the capital of the Netherlands that day…

      Now my heels gave a soft knock at an unfamiliar street of Dubrovnik. I walked and looked for a sign of some decent cafe for locals, not for tourists like me.

      I opened the door of a small coffee shop after evaluating the nice smell emanating from it and floating in the air, like a genie escaping from a jug… Like ether. Almost tangible and thick.

      Strange thing…

      I wonder if anyone except me and psychologists pay attention to the fact that men visit cafes in the morning to have a cup of coffee?

      It was pretty early. They were not hurrying anywhere, sitting and watching the news on tablets. Of course there were eccentrics reading newspapers, but they were older.

      A kind of testosterone parade.

      This is as true as the fact that in the morning it is difficult to notice the same number of women with a cup of coffee in their hands…

      As for men, here they are! Calm and self-satisfied. I do not understand why males do not like to drink coffee in the morning at home…

      After all, are they all alone?

      Or is this because in the morning they are as relaxed as possible and should not show their dignity to anyone or prove their significance…

      I don't know.

      I just like to watch. They definitely don't understand that this is my favorite part of the morning in another country! I collect impressions. And then I compare it with past observations. It can be very funny.

      I ordered a double Americano and a chocolate muffin. Enjoying this morning, coffee and company, I felt an incredible pleasure from life, the fruits of civilization and, anticipating a wonderful tour, smiled at my thoughts, sitting at the last table of a small coffee shop.

      Having estimated that Doremi woke up, I sent him a picture on Instagram. Then I looked at my route. It turned out that the Aquarium was a kilometer away. I could do that…

      I stood up, finished my coffee and bought a bottle of water so that I could leisurely set off to admire the marine creatures…

      Morning had just begun. Cool. Rare passerbys smiled to me. I smiled back at them.

      And there was the Aquarium.

      In summer it was open from nine to twenty-one, and you could take your time looking at eels, tuna, breams and mullets, maragotas, scorpion fish, lobsters and sea turtles…

      I wonder who was the first to think that such a museum can be placed in the medieval fortress of St. John? It turns out to be two in one!

      A stone gallery, a fairly wide corridor…

      Aquariums were installed in the walls, probably not less than thirty of them. Fish: large and not that large, constantly chatting, opening their mouths wide, and each time sincerely amazed when people for some reason throw coins into the outdoor Aquarium pool. I also could not resist and threw a metal ten cent into the water. It fell next to the puzzled turtle, which flinched, blinked or winked at me with the lower eyelid, and then, as if nothing had happened, slowly rubbed its eye with its front paw…

      «Wow!» I thought, «can you do that!»

      As soon as I got out to breathe some fresh air, I noticed Doremi sitting on the entrance steps and waiting for someone, constantly looking at his favorite Swiss


<p>4</p>

This refers to the course of histology, which is taught at year I and II of medical school.