You are my bird!. Елена Мошко

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      – Yes!

      – Listen, I cannot get you on the phone for half an hour already…

      This is Cyril.

      – Circhik, – I say as quietly as possible – I sit in traffic… I’ve got stuck at the Pope! – and put the phone down.

      Those two with assault rifles at the ready pass me one after one, and, apparently, they go only to make sure that he is dead! And, of course, to make a security shot. The one that goes behind, has even hooked the motor hood with the but… Ho! And here is the third one! He is on the other side of the car… And now they come almost close to him, then surround him, going from the head side… I can hear only sentence-scraps.

      “Khvoshch, what’s wrong with him?” Ready?

      – Newbie…

      Not a single movement… Even the rain quiet down, waiting for the outcome… Being afraid to move and shivering from head to foot, I’m waiting for these security shots… Just as I thought: the first shot sounds somehow uncertainly and indistinctly: puk… Then again: puk-puk… Just for the hens to laugh at! This “puk” even amuses me… But it also makes me pop eyes out: the first one suddenly began to stagger, then twitched awkwardly, and after that the other two began jerking their arms, then heads, and suddenly their feet went pit… Like puppets… It’s a side splitter!

      Puk-puk-puk… I see now that Vlad, turning around and around on his bare back, discharges his pistol into one, then another, then the third, mercilessly, without aiming: Puk! Puk! Puk! And now when they are lying face down, he gets up, wipes his glasses hastily with his sleeve… A showman! He does not stick the pistol in belt, like action film heroes do, but approaches every dead man (I’m sure!) and busts one more cap in each head. A security one! And only after that he sticks the gun in belt. Still naked. Then, picking up the jacket from the pavement, he goes to me.

      – “Wait,” he points to the ground with his hand: “here” – and pronounces a word that I cannot hear or read on his seductive lips. Narrows his lids, patiently waiting, trying to read my answer through the prism of the glasses.

      I just look at him dumbfounded and slowly nod assent: “I understood.” He turns abruptly and immediately goes to the off-roader, which as if intentionally has opened the back door in front of him. A showman!

      An idea suddenly has struck me that a new film series with his participation is being shot, and in a minute or two these three will rise and laugh, and Vlad will leave Lexus and invite me to watch this scene, where I… Ooooo! If they are professionals, they have shot us in such a role!

      I do not know whether to be glad or sad, I just sit, trembling and feeling chilly. With fear and cold… Naked! The motor buzzes quietly… The heater just blows a blast of air, I look at those three… I see that they do not rise, do not shake off water from their trousers, that they do not smile to each other… Dead! But who will smile, lying in pool of his own blood?

      And here is a police car.

      When backing up I have almost crashed into the light bar car. The thought that they may find me naked brings me to life. In the depth of despair, I’m looking for some little thing to cover up and find his white shirt. Oh, that’s great! I put it on and wrapped up in it like in a saving cocoon. It even covers a part of my thighs! Hurrah! This is a face-saving! And I like its smell too! I even put a tie on the standing collar, though have not tighten the knot. In my opinion I have now a beautiful and quite respectable look! If the police will not ask me to get out of the car. Well, and where are my shoes? There they are! Now I may go even to the runway! Except for his handkerchief, which I still have, like a pad… Well, okay… I’ll think about it later…

      It’s been a hell of an evening!..

      I’ve balled up my skirt and blouse and pushed them in the glove box.

      The rain again began to whisper in Pome…

      What an evening!

      And here is the police… I was always amused by their pot hats… I lower the glass a little.

      – Mi scusi, signora, vorresti per favore…

      Now I bust out my charming smile.

      And of course, he recognizes me.

      – Оh! Madame!