Seraphim. Start Bashny.Net

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Entry

There are long and short novels. But your attitude towards women, their duration depends. There are no significant female relationships which last for months or even years. And there are women with whom fate can be reduced only once. In a very short time. And in your life, they leave a mark so deep that you just about them and remember. When the man asked the proverbial question: "How many of you have been," - the hand on the heart, it is only necessary to consider these. Their names are not forgotten, you do not confuse the circumstances of the meetings. These particular women are always different. Although there is one thing in common .... It's hard to explain. A kind of magic. When looking at the girl, and sometimes just feeling her presence, you feel like a wave through the body runs. Or an electric shock. And you clearly understand what you do with it is something to be. Maybe. You know, she gave you those special signals that the mind does not calculate. What everything is already done for you. And you just have to say, "Hi, my name is Seraphim».

The woman first

Everyone has a talent. Sometimes it's just so strange that he could not bring any benefit to the owner. But it was not his case. From the queue for the gifts of God, he picked the right one. He could guess. Not lucky numbers in the lottery, and what is expected of him. Due to this talent, he was able to count the people to guess their mood, to realize that in turn can expect from them. And with this knowledge - could change the situation. Drive out from under his feet well to a familiar opponent, trodden, the usual stereotype of a foothold. And it swirl in a vortex of illusions. And he is very good lie. It was not a single talent - it is impossible not to be able to lie, if you know what people will believe, some of the words he's waiting for you. With so much talent stupid to go to the astronauts. But in the journalists - the most it. However, his career choice, he did not pondering in such nuances. He never liked the sciences, and therefore chose the Faculty of International Relations. No math, no formulas. Even the date of learning is not necessary. Humanitarians of clean water. And though it was believed that the faculty should let the diplomats, but where is to score as many countries to allocate each year more than two hundred young professionals from all relevant universities. Since the announcement of the recruitment agency in the newsroom - had at the time.
How to go to a job interview? Typically, neatly dressed, with neat hair and fire in his eyes. And you can come after a two-day drinking in the country, unshaven, with typed into a glass of cola cold beer and a shot of man smoking a cigarette at the entrance of the building of the company. Word for word, the coming to focus on the view that the news - trash, politics - asshole, and that there should be a brunette ass show in the museum, a work of art. And only after that it is worth wondering who is waiting for your companion. So to find out that communicated with the commercial director of the company, the goal is to get an offer on the news, and go to work in the advertising department, where in fact it does not there need people with free thought and gab.
As it turned out, we recruited a new team not only in the news. In the advertising department of the appointed day came to 6 people, of which somewhere spotted and invited commercial director. Four girls and two guys who outlined the horizons of possibilities open to them, if they show themselves as talented advertisers. To begin with - they have to come up with the channel project about a beautiful life. This Statement bright postcard nightlife and fashion events of the city. Leading the project is to be Anna, one of their teams. The girl who was struck by two indisputable advantages. Inexpressibly beautiful breasts, and that while she still knew how to think. Typically, women who nature has endowed beauty, brains prefer not to use it. All the same from them that no one is waiting. They have enough to smile, wearing tight skirts, bold cuts, and not hinder the men enjoy this toy. However, he ventured to make long squint intently watching how lush hemisphere swaying in time to the movements of energetic girl. In the room where they were sitting, looked administrator channel. Strict skirt, clearly defined the game, round ass, stern look busy chores man whose ear racket for some new enthusiasts. In practice, the "first teacher". In this way Reacts violently nocturnal emissions most of the students. In the end, there is something very sweet to dream about how terrible teacher gave you a deuce, lingering groan, having rested his elbows on the class register. That's when the first look at this red-haired girl-administrator, his mind flashed images of which half would be flushed professional pornographers. Such things women feel. God only knows how, but even if you know how to keep a stone face, the woman you want - will know about it. And do not joke about thin pants.
The work was in full swing, a few weeks later was ready to transmit a pilot project that could be shown to potential sponsors. Each found his niche. Anya tried every way in the frame to distract the audience from his chest witty remarks. The operator plans to put the shot so that the viewer sees on the screen a miserable bunch of the local golden youth, imbued with an irresistible urge to buy at any price right is one of them. And the Seraphim as a director trying to make it all kind of booths designed and high-quality work, a little reminiscent of the transmission, which could be seen, including satellite TV. In addition, it took another task. What to do with the red girl? It can not just sit here and work such a joy. You can not afford to disappear around a mischievous twinkle in her green eyes that appear when he was joking. And jokes each time frivolity, however, must not go abroad even outright vulgarity. Do not come near to the grave with this question: "Would you like a drink of brandy, young lady, I've know a great pub." Still he thinks that he wants to sleep with her that evening. No, of course he wants to, but because you can not be so predictable ....
 - Let's go have coffee in the evening?
Green eyes looked out from under the red curls almost defiantly. Apparently tired of waiting until the boy finally will issue in my mind the first sentence, the girl made the first step. And though he never liked coffee, especially in the evenings, to abandon the proposal did not make sense.
Her name was Yasha. Cognac she drank no worse than Fim, although coffee was also initially ordered. Then they kissed by the sea, in the evening the streets of the city in a taxi. Sex on the first night was not. So all the more interesting. Later he came to visit, after dinner, he put her in a kiss on the table. It smelled of the sea and the wind. Linen slipped to the floor. Burning lips were still hotter corners of her body. "You're not really a redhead!" - He growled, kissing a white triangle on suntanned skin. Perhaps it was the last meaningful words that were spoken in the apartment until the morning. Even at dawn, they talked about everything, eating strawberries, stained and satisfied. She was a former dancer tied with the career of a back injury. She worked on TV for a long time, has been in good standing, and knew many people. It Yasya Seraphim said "who is who" on the canals of the city, which undercurrents influence the policy of the leadership, and that should be taken into account if you want to succeed in the strange world of television, at least, a local.
His family, virtually everything he loved - were against this girl. It is difficult to say what it has caused such a reaction. Every day he heard the echo of the words repeated: "You two are not a couple." Perhaps they keep silent, he would have understood it himself. But, in response to the pressure he experienced a sense of contradiction Phim I decided to enter the most harsh. Suppose it's a mistake, but it's his fault. And he has a right to it. He disappeared. I collect all the necessary things left on the table cell, and left the house. Fim Yasya and rented an apartment in the suburbs, where he spent a few very pleasant in the euphoria of "action" days. Yasha was delighted, for her while he went to the conflict. Yes, and the Seraphim, was filled with a sense of their own masculinity. Boyish - a disease that runs only on the time. After three or four days they were found. The telephone rang, and had a long talk with shouts, insults, arguments. Each to his opinion, but it was kind of a truce signed. And claiming the right of everyone to his own opinion, which should not interfere with the rest of life. Fim was very pleased. It seemed to him that it is the first bricks from which he would build his own world.
They lived together for almost a year. During this time, both had to change channels. Yasha had another television quite a high post, but Serafim yet started working as a journalist in the news service. They parted almost as easily as their relationship began. The reasons were simple gap. Seraphim argued that the most important family and Yasya staked career. Years later, thinking about the arguments they brought each other, Fim realized that she was right. Even if they start a family, nothing would have happened. His woman's instinct, she already knew that he, with all the love for comfort, yet "a man wandering." And that way it will go, do not go together. From Iasi to left Seraphim memory in the knowledge that he can not argue with women. And that girl that got a laugh, it is already possible to kiss. Even if she is angry - which means a failed joke against ten good? She just.

The woman second

There were a lot of stars. And very few people who looked at them. We tried to spend the night behind thick walls. Or at least for sandbags. Within two weeks of Africa has become a nightmare. Bad dream that does not end.

Seraphim received a contract to take in the hot spots of the black continent solely for the sake of money. The impressive dollar amount earned in a very short period of time, promised a solution to many problems that have accumulated. That's what he told himself before the trip. Here it is just now becoming increasingly clear that his main problem - to return. Already behind the animal fear that gripped after the first firing. And the tears that choked and twisting soul inside out when they came to the village, completely cut militants. But increasingly, he wondered thought about whether to live as before. To live, not waking from rustles. * The stringers are often either crazy, or adrenaline junkies. And can not exist in a society where there are no laws of war. Phim wanted to believe that it will pass this fate. Check this can only be at home.

He is now in Sierra Leone. Drinks at a local bar combustible slops, almost wincing. Alcoholics in their profession is almost there - nerves burn alcohol before it has time to seriously hit in the head. A glance at the clock. Almost ten pm. It's time to go to the hotel, if you can call this a birdhouse. But Liberia's hard to find something better, even for money. Comfortably lie in the pockets of jackets, purchased at the beginning of a trip to Abyssinia guns. No weapons here nobody goes. The point is not to be able to shoot insurgents, if they decide to attack. It's just a chance that you will be killed, not be tortured, or just fun for several hours, until life is not thrown out with the guts of your mangled body.
Last stoparik disgusting local whiskey left in the throat. Seraphim left the bar, and immediately cutting off drunken buzz around closed up heavy night. The Frenchman - a photographer with whom they met during the day, jumped after him. In the dark streets of Freetown nice walk together. The hotel was five quarters, if you walk down the street. And less than 150 meters if cut through wasteland and a cemetery. Apparently, alcohol has stunned the brain, and they decided that "anyone we fucking do not need." And consequently - you can go short deserted route.
Already coming to the cemetery and coming to homes, Seraphim felt under the chest is compressed tangle of fear. Before he could even think about what the cause - of the darkness came tall and thin boy. Black skin, eyes and oily addict. A very bad combination. And very bad English. But the essence of his phrases was clear - "white, give money." In response, a native hears lazy abuse. The Frenchman, who arrived in the mission of the peacekeepers only three days ago, has not yet lost the "pride of the white man." And I decided that this is a beggar. In vain, their new black friend had raised his hand, in which something glittered. Even through his clouded head horror Fim managed to understand that shaking hands, he did not have time to pull the gun out of his pockets. Fingers clenched convulsively, pressing on the dog *. Every second, a third. The roar of shots from both barrels. Pale as a sheet Seraphim pulled pistols and patted the smoldering hole in the fabric of the jacket. He came closer. Two bullets hit the chest, and the third - in the throat. One went to the wall. Not a bad result when you shoot at night and drunk. Stunned painful shock guy still breathing. With each beat of the heart push blood spills on the ground. Fingers native compress old Walther apparently even the Second World War. Fim feels fear, disgust, anger. And his vomit. Strongly. Another shot. Finally, glassy eyes reflect the sky full of stars. Here the stars, almost no one is looking. And no one looks out onto the street when you hear firing. The Frenchman ran to the hotel. Hidden weapon, Serafim trudged to the same. In his room long it vomited. Fear of leaving. Fatigue and in bulk. To reach the bed and collapse as in the den ... Berlozhku.

"She's so ... You know how berlozhka ... Cozy, own, native. I woke up constantly, put it down I can not "- in other without interruption for half an hour talking about his love.
Her name is Ria. Pribaltiyka, who came to Ukraine to live and work - it is completely occupied the thoughts of a young man. Seraphim was very interesting to see the "berlozhku." His friend was a man not sentimental. And the brighter the image drawing fantasy "Baltic Princess" that was able to stir his emotions. In the evening they met in the city center. Low feminine figure hurried them through the park. Under the light of lanterns shining in the golden hair - huge gray eyes. And plump lips. She greeted with a slight accent. They walked for a long time the three of us on the streets of the capital city, sitting in a cafe under the chestnut trees.
All this time Seraphim looked at her. Very carefully and quietly. Thank ancestors northern blood - looking into his expressionless blue eyes no one could have guessed that she was interested in him. Full of life and energy attracted the Ria. Almost all night now they got to the apartment of another. Ria went to cook dinner. And in the back room Seraphim chose his words carefully, so as not to betray his feelings.

 - Well, you know - I do not like blondes. I'm a brunette. And so - cute like. It is your type. True talks too much.

And not a word about how he wanted to interrupt her with a kiss. Draw to itself, raise a fist flowing golden hair and lubricate all words with these juicy, inviting lips.
A friend went into the bathroom and looked in the kitchen Seraphim. Riya was standing at the stove. Coming closer, he saw that she was enthusiastically mixes eggs, holding a frying pan over the unlit stove. She remembered the words of another: "It is sometimes very scattered, it's so cute!" Fim came and drove her from the plate, took a frying pan. Growled "do not know how - do not touch", lit the fire. And then he got on the head with a plastic colander. He turned around. Right next to it was a girl, which was not a drop phlegmatic, so often derided from the Baltic states. His eyes burn with fire, deep breathing of a man who tries to master emotions. It is deducted to him that he is a boor. And Fim, head of the hand behind his back, his hand pressed to the heated pan stronger. You can not show that he almost does not speak of a close to it, the smell of her body.
Only once, and even then not for long, he had to look in their home. The girl friend. Best friend. He respected himself for having allowed himself to succumb to the urge to kiss her. And for many years he could not forget those eyes ...

Seraphim was awakened by the noise of car engines. American patrol drove up to the hotel. Time to get up and try to negotiate with them to let go in the Colon with its peacekeepers to Makeni. Fears last day in the past. Today, there will be new.
Unable to reach an agreement with the Americans, "gray" * go to the northern province of themselves in two cars. For the night, their little camp in the savannah will fire. The Italians will die, and Fim, and three Russian, dismissing the night in the lights and noises almost all cartridges will drive jeep on the road. Trying not to think about what being transported in the blood-soaked bags. Each scored the fear of death in their own way.






























 What it is?



 


 





Absolutely.

   

 


     


 Together.



 


 


 


 



 



 



 I hate you!
 














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