roulette principle

#AstakhovaSvetlana
"Michelle, Margot and the Domino Principle" Modern mystical prose. MICHELLE is a girl, the beloved daughter of her father.
“My paintings were stolen from me,” she said in a frightened voice over the phone.
 to his close friend.
- But where did it happen? Are you crazy? Do you walk with pictures through the streets at night?
“Pictures are, of course, an understatement. I myself gave a folder with my favorite watercolor sketches. She kept them carefully for seven years. I didn’t show it to anyone except my dad. And that’s what came over me? As if a demon dared to play such a trick on me!
After clarifications about the disappearance of the paintings, MICHELLE's friend exclaimed:
- Yes, for sure, they bewitched you, you can be so naive ...

Michelle, honestly, took care of all the sketches of paintings, sketches in watercolor, as they take care of photographs of small children, defenseless and funny.
Michelle herself was sometimes surprised, but did not suspect that this was happening to her at the level of some secrets hidden from her. She easily parted with old or already unnecessary things, gives things, just distributes to people she knows, but the watercolors have been lying in a safe for years.
When father Michel, a world-famous sculptor and artist, once again looked at the watercolors, thought about it and somehow said in passing;
"Daughter, and there is something very interesting in this, not banal ... You, it turns out, are a sweet prankster, stepping on the heels of some of the contemporary artists!"
She didn't understand then why he said that.
And then one fine, but very hot day, she went with a bag in which there were watercolors to a small, cozy, completely home-made cafe "botanist". It is located next to Michelle's house, in the basement of the shopping center.
2.
The salvation for the young artist Michelle from the July heat in the city is the fountain on the square near the cinema or this cafe, if she did not have time to go to the park to study or to the dacha in the near Moscow suburbs on Nikolina Gora. The cafe is not only cozy, it is cool in summer and without air conditioning.
On this ill-fated, according to the heroine Michelle, day - I didn’t want to go anywhere, fatigue piled up, like a cunning
octopus, and did not let go.

In Botanica, despite the early evening, it was completely free. Two people for six tables for 4-6 people.
The “old” owner, whom she knew from her youth, recently sold the cafe.
The new owner, who instead of the former Arthur, managed to transform the local institution. There used to be such a simple bar, now it's the "Botanik" art cafe.
The music in the cafe was played on "vinyl discs", this yaalenie again came into vogue. Interior: instead of the cosmic blue color of the walls, it is now light, but the mirror ball under the ceiling was left, from it on the walls in the darkened room, glare flickering at different speeds created the illusion of flying into space.

The new owner is a middle-aged man, of small stature in a white jacket.
from the capital's couturier Slavik. The owner's face was tired from the heat, but he always communicates with guests in a friendly manner. There were usually few guests, and even under Arthur, everything was for them, the service was capital.
- Dim the light?
-- Please.
- What's your favorite drink?
- Homemade cold Georgian wine, left from the previous owners - order, please, you will not regret it.
We have not yet turned around in full force with the service, there are problems with the kitchen, but if you are hungry, you want hot soup or sushi, you can order at the nearby Vikotori, - suggested the waiter,
- They will deliver quickly, - the Owner and the administrator politely specified in one person.
- You are not boring! - Michelle said - The waiter and the owner laughed loudly.
The audience in the cafe was different, there was also a random one from those passing by, but the main one was from the local residents of the area, those who used to go to Arthur, because his steaks were already very fragrant and juicy.
Sometimes visitors, without sitting down, simply drank a mug of beer at the bar and left: there was a slot machine room nearby.
And someone liked to sit for a long time, read the newspaper after a delicious dinner, drink coffee or wine before closing....

- And I remembered you. You are Michel, - the new owner smiled.
- Yes, Michelle. Where could we meet?
-- Here. I used to come back under Arthur, and you were sitting at a table with
Captain Yuri.

3.
Indeed, there was such a thing, Michelle was once sitting in a cafe with a master of sports in judo - a former Captain.
They met when she was offered to sit at the same table with him: all the others were occupied.
Waitress Malika came out of the toilet room --
beautiful Georgian, but for some reason with an Asian name (why
actually not, that's how parents wanted it!)
She looked at Michelle and the Captain all the time, smiled, and seemed to even listen to their conversation.
Malika, apparently, was a voluntary guard of the hall and part-time ex-wife of the former director Artur. Although, they say, there are no ex-wives: the imprint remains in the heart for life. Everything remains for a long time or forever, even if people part. Therefore, it is more appropriate to say - the first wife.

And when Michelle went to "powder her nose", Malika asked the Captain a question, nodding towards Michelle:
- And who is she?
She is Michelle. Say, nice name? Imagine, I immediately guessed how her
name.
- Yes, what are you talking about ... You're not joking? Miracles! Very nice, she is your new ... acquaintance?
The captain stupidly looked at the floor, then at Malika and made a gesture with his hands "if".
The gesture turned out like in a Russian dance - clap your hands and then with each hand to the chest.
Michelle returned to the table, straightened her bangs and glasses with her hand, a neighbor on the table poured her some wine. Then he poured himself a full glass, as is not customary in restaurants - to the very brim.
The captain got drunk from every sip of wine that he ordered for him and Michelle while she was gone, drank without eating and again, and again looked into her eyes:
"No... Who are you, why don't I know you?"
“I live here,” answered Michelle, smiling, and blew fragrant smoke from cigarette rings.
-- Right here?
Well, not right here, but...
Captain Yura looked around, not understanding where one could live here.
-- You misunderstood me. I live not far from here. In the house opposite.
-- Do you need my help? Yura suddenly asked seriously.
-- In terms of ?
-- What do you mean? Yes ... - he drawled, as if having already anticipated Michelle's thoughts, - the ladies get to know me when they need help.
- It's hard for me to help... I have everything, - Michelle laughed.
- What is the apartment? What is your name? Wait. Now I remember, You --- Michelle.
Michelle realized that the Captain had come here far from sober, and now he was already in that state when events, people and everything that surrounds him flashes like telegraph poles from the train window, and his thoughts are confused, limp like overcooked pasta.
- And now I'm going to fight, - Captain Yura announced loudly for some reason.
- That's how! Michelle exclaimed.
- Do not trust? And I fight with everyone.
- Okay, go. Only there the steps have not been canceled yet. Upstairs, go
be careful.
He got up and went to the exit, staggering, but for some reason changed his mind and returned:
- No, who are you? Why aren't you afraid of me? By the way, let's get acquainted, sea captain, Yura.
- Very nice. Why should you be afraid, Yura? Michelle extended her hand to the interlocutor. he shook her and bent down to kiss her. Michelle withdrew her hand.

Oh, and Michelle laughed at his statement.
Michelle also drank a lot today, she really liked it
cold homemade wine, after a few sips of which she took
homemade cheese or olives from a saucer with a plastic skewer, slowly sent into a brightly painted mouth, slowly chewed.
She could not stop, so as not to drink more cold wine, poured herself a glass, but did not get drunk.

- Are you Michelle? She heard a voice and knew she was not alone. - And I'm the Captain. You have beautiful eyes and a penetrating gaze. By the way, are you, by chance, not from the tax police? Let's be honest. Who are you?
- I'm Michel, we just met here - Woman again
laughed and stood up, deciding to leave.
The captain stopped her by the hand.:
- Sit down, please. If you want, I'll make you an excellent apartment. Not in the center, of course, but in the new district I can at least have a five-room apartment. I can do everything. You know,
Who am I?
- Malika, calculate us, please. - Hastened Michelle.
- No, it's strange, I don't know her, she's not afraid of me and she doesn't need me.
apartment in Moscow.

Indeed, strange. There are people, especially people like this former naval officer, who have an Admiral dad, but Michelle, a simple girl from the family of the Moscow artist Vlasov, doesn’t need anything from them.
She felt sorry for this aging Captain, like the dog Potap, the watchman at her father's dacha.
Potap was also handsome in his youth, and the Captain looked like him in some way, his eyes looked exactly like him, probably, and he was handsome in his youth, like her father's faithful labrador.
Now in front of her sat a faded little man, reminiscent of St. Andrew's flag after a long hike.

- Michelle, I can't take you as my mistress... Alka's wife is furious... like a cobra,
finds out... I'm definitely not going to live.
I can make you an apartment. Think.
--Yes? What else can you do?
- I can feed you in the cellar, at least every day.
“Captain, I'm on a diet. Are you going out for air or what? - for several
Michelle said irritably
She fluttered up to the stairs and flew up the steep
steps to the exit, and here
ran into a middle-aged man in a white jacket.
“Michel, stop, don’t leave, don’t leave me,” the Captain called her for help.

4. "After that, she will no longer see her paintings..."
.
"Michelle, good evening," she heard the waiter's voice over her ear as she entered the cafe another time.
And the Captain came yesterday, I handed over a note with your phone number.

Michelle blushed, as if her secret thoughts had been read.
She thought at home for two whole days, fantasized and decided to leave for
The captain's phone number is on a piece of paper in the bartender's cafe, where the Captain visited, as he himself said, often when his Wife Alka "got to the guts."
I decided to keep my phone, just in case. AT
And then at the first meeting with the captain, on that hot day, she
ran away from a new acquaintance, realizing that the sooner she gets rid of him, the better.
In the end, thought Michelle, another apartment would not hurt, she would make a workshop out of it,
to be independent of the father,
although, of course, I understood:
what is promised"
blue eye "does not count.

-- Good evening. Michelle answered the new owner.
I would drink coffee now, double. Or even stronger. What do you have?

- We have excellent cognac.
The new owner himself brought two glasses and a decanter of cognac.
“Tell me what you have interesting, new,” he easily began inquiries and
sat down at the table.
Michelle shrugged.
-Nothing!
- You see, Michel, everything fits together, and I have nothing.
He laughed, somehow ruffled the back of his head in a boyish way:
- Your name is so unusual for a Russian girl ...
There are still no people. We have banquets from next week.

- That's great! Did you advertise through the newspaper?
-Exactly! And over the internet.

So, talking about nothing. Eyes to eyes. But she didn't need another now.
Cognac, coffee were quickly drunk, the tension passed.
- Well, I went? Thank you. How much do I have to pay?
- Well, what are you talking about... Come again, I'm very glad to meet you. Do not be shy,
come anytime. Should I give Yura something?
-What are you, thank you ... nothing needs to be transferred! Thanks again for
treat.

"What did Captain Yura say to the owner of the cafe..."-
Yes, it still seemed to her. - "Some kind of nonsense with this Yura."

Michelle went to the cafe only a week later.
I didn't even remember the invitation before.
She again remained alone in Moscow from Friday to Saturday.
"Why not," Michelle decided.
Getting ready, preening at the mirror, she decided to take a vinyl book from the bookshelf.
CD with Vysotsky's songs.
"Anyway, there's nothing to turn on for a long time," Michelle sighed.

The "turntable" is broken, it has been gathering dust on the mezzanine for ten years, such ones are no longer taken for repair.

Perhaps, as before, on Gogol Boulevard, in
"metal repair" there are acquaintances, in the underground workshop - masters of all trades
out of boredom, "she would persuade me to take this rarity, they are all there
simply masters from God. For everything masters - from gluing
Chinese vases (certainly some smuggled) and to the repair of old clocks with a fight, some overseas music boxes.
Only their own people knew about it: under the signboard, an underground workshop had been working for a long time repairing imported antiques.
She also visited this workshop with her friend Lazarev when he returned from some foreign trip with a gift. They went to the art-salon ANTIKVAR, where he asked the price.

Lazarev is a longtime admirer of Michelle. from early youth, he was just a friend for her, stuffed, however, periodically into husbands. It was secret, romantic, so her dad wouldn't find out.
Six months ago, he left to conquer the savannas and woodlands of Nabia.
The vinyl disc of Lazarev with Vysotsky's songs remained.
Michelle decided that Botanica's owner would be pleased to receive such a gift for his collection of vinyl discs.
There in the cafe he belongs, she remembered, except for "Time Machine" and Rolling
The Stones had such rarities - ABBA, Urainhip ..
And somehow it turned out inconveniently, Michelle remembered, she drank coffee, drank cognac, they didn’t take the money.
"Ah, here's another one," Michelle, wearing shoes, returned from the hallway to her room.
He said that he would decorate the walls, he would like something original from watercolors or paintings, only unusual, but in the spirit of the name of the cafe.

She took out a folder of watercolors.
"That's what to keep them?"
Two paintings from the Crimea. On the first - sea view, bay, boat. Another -
serpentine in the mountains near Yalta.
Three more from the Moscow region - "The first snow in Polenovo", "Sunflowers after the rain"
"Moose" - it turned out very well, just resting in a winter meadow, she took a picture, then watched him for a long time, how steam was coming out of his mouth, how he was breathing tiredly. Maybe. ran away from the chase.
Here are the last ones, but Michel will not give them away, he will only show them.
There is someone to give ... He will give the inspirer a "muse" who left her in
the moment when "the whole world is at odds with her."
But it will happen later, and not even this year. Michelle thought so.
On the watercolors that she prepared as a gift to one friend - all the same mountains - and the name "Dawn in the Mountains", the girl sits "top - forest" in the floor - profile, raised her hair up.
And here is a mountain lake. The water is dark. Nature is quiet before a storm. Away Snowy
tops. Two lonely trees - foreground. The last ray of sun from behind the clouds. -
distant plan.

Michelle neatly put everything in a folder and took it with her.

She doesn’t understand at all why people do things that aren’t their own.
business, Michelle thought as she walked to the caf;.
Go to Namibia when the dissertation is on the nose.
Lazarev is an adult, he went to her for 5 years. Parents are doctors, himself, as they said
common acquaintances - a very talented promising doctor.
Michelle began to get angry, but stopped in the literal sense: she, in fact, what's the matter.
They are friends with Lazarev and no more! Only friends.
"Let him sit in his Africa, catch at least cheetahs, at least butterflies, just think, a lover of African colors."
In her family, all the men on the father's side are artists: her father is a wood sculptor, her grandfather was engaged in applied art - genuine leather, fur in his hands turned into a work of art. The family also had teachers, actors, but this was on the maternal side.
Michelle has also seen her calling in painting for many years.
It haunted like the voice of the ancestors.
Having chosen, for example, the medical profession or the faculty of law, she was
would be out of place (although she really wanted to go to medical school with her friend after graduation) and Michelle would be an exception to the rule in her family.
Until the age of 18, the call was almost simultaneously to the Art Studio and to the elective class "Literary Creativity".
The image was successful, as her teacher said in graphics, watercolors and
painting. And my father approved of still lifes, landscapes, later
portraits from life and from memory, even the faces of the Saints, when he was in a good mood.
Elements of "sur" came later, by accident.
Or maybe not by chance.
Once Michelle left her sketchbook near the open window.
The wind knocked over the Indian vase with the bride's bouquet, as she called it.
this elegant composition of three daisies and "splashes" of unknown white
flower lumps, and in the evening on a watercolor called "Arbor. View from
windows" - a strange smear appeared. Well, obviously, this is not her job
She looked close and from afar: as if someone's trace, rather even a shadow ... someone looked in, and a face was imprinted.
The face was translucent, and its appearance is mysterious.
Some kind of mysticism, Michelle admired.
He looked at the place where the window pane is depicted.
She decided that she would leave it that way.
A few years earlier, Michelle learned about cosmobiology and creativity
artists, authors of bioenergy paintings. Having visited the exhibition in
Seda Gallery, which was LONG TIME IN THE RESTORED CHURCH on
VARVARK, and feeling, without the help of a guide, which paintings
"glow", Michelle STARTED to LISTEN even more strongly to her feelings.

I just sketched the dome of the church with light strokes, and it blurred into three, like
as if the image was shaking.
Or maybe it's a resonance from the bell ringing of the local church? Michelle felt a shudder inside her, and the state poured out onto the canvas.
She remembered another episode. In the camellia flower, when the study dried, she saw
the face of an angel.
Michelle did not say anything to anyone and methodically wrote several studies with
image of saints
Paul and Peter, Dmitry, then Christ himself, but
faces were dead.
So, everything seemed, there is no more mysticism.
The owner greeted her with a joyful smile.
And when he bent down with a kiss to his hand,
Michelle hid her hand behind her back, where there was another hand with a folder.
watercolors.

- And what do you have, Michel, behind your back?
- Oh, can I have some coffee first?
- Well, today you can definitely! And not just coffee: Friday...
What about sushi and rice vodka?
- Completely unexpected, but positive!
The owner walked away for a minute to the bar, said something quietly to the bartender and returned with
decanter of vodka, then returned and came with a thinly sliced ;;lemon on a plastic plate.
- Here, excuse me, while you try this vodka ... You are not in a hurry, are you? Sushi will be delivered to us in 20 minutes!
Michelle lowered her eyes, thinking how she did not need all this, that she could just
go out of town and work, the weather is very conducive and evenings
still warm in the suburbs.
- This is Vysotsky's disk, it is without scratches, although not new.
And these are my watercolors. I saw you have one hanging there .. on the stairs to
beautiful frame. Whose is she?
- Ta? I bought this at the opening day.
So, so ... And you know, Michel, you surprised me even more! Is this yours?
- Yes, but what's wrong with that?
- Vadim, come here, - he called the bartender, - look how interesting
Pictures...
Especially the one with the girl.
Vadim looked with the air of a connoisseur and exchanged glances with the Boss.
- What's impressive? Michelle, will you sell them to us?
- What are you...They are not for sale. Especially "Mountain Dawn"
- They would even suit us, - Vadim drawled disappointedly.
- Do you want me to leave them, as in the exhibition, temporarily? Everything except
"girls".
- Yes, of course, - the Boss and Vadim said in one voice.
-We will roll them into frames, I can even imagine in what and how it will be
look stylish. And in my opinion, a toast is brewing.
There was a phone call, you need to pick up sushi in the neighboring Yaposha.
Vadim became stubborn, the owner after being surprised:
- Well, you brother give ..
WENT BY HIMSELF, leaving Vadim and Michel with the paintings.
....
- Michel, did you learn to draw?
- Do not draw, - corrected Vadim, he did not drink, because he had a bar and
checkout report. - offend the artist.
- Well, then not an artist. but an artist.
Let's toast to Michelle's talent! Vadim, well, you at least pour mineral water
yourself.
Then they ate sushi, Michelle fell off the chopsticks all the time, she
embarrassed...
- Maybe a fork? - The owner offered ..
- Yes, that you, I now. I will concentrate. Very funny, of course, the girl is so
drunk that she does not own chopsticks.
- Yes, keep it simple, Michelle. No one is looking at you but me. Vadik, and
give us a CD with some blues.
The owner put down the disk and offered his hand to Michelle.
"Lord, how banal and stupid everything is," she thought.
-Michel, relax, why are you so tense, it's just a dance, -
The owner pressed his chin against the girl's bangs.
and clasping her waist, swaying to the beat of the music. - Yes! Are you good
feel the music.
- Well, you also say that Michelle is talented in everything ... -
Michelle answered somehow sadly, sitting down in an armchair when the music
ended.
-What, isn't it?
-Of course not! For example, I don't know how to cook...
My husband said that it was impossible to eat my cooking.
Immediately, her mobile phone rang, the ex-husband called, as if
overheard that they remembered him.
He asked if she was far from home, said that he had a conversation with her.
there and would like to see her right now, he is already driving up to the front door
entrance.
- I'll come right now ... But you can open it with your key. BUT? Wait in
car? Good. Already going.
“So you’re married…,” drawled the Boss. “But isn’t your husband jealous?”
- Not jealous, - smiled Michelle. I'm sorry, I have to go.
- And what about your watercolors?
- I'll leave, tomorrow I'll come after seven in the evening and it will be possible to talk
more specifically.
- I do not insist, but since you have decided so, leave it. Vadim, are you in the office?
Take the pictures to me in the safe. Michel, don't worry, everything will be as
you want.
They will be here, but they are yours. You can take them whenever you want.
The owner bent down, kissed his hand, then unexpectedly on the cheek, and she,
Laughing, she set up another one.
- Well, let's go, I'll give you a ride.
Thanks, right here.
- All the same, jealous husband .... hurry up ...
- See you tomorrow, sorry, but I have to go. My husband and I are just friends.

"God, why does he always appear at the wrong time?" Michelle unwrapped
mint flavored candy and walked faster.
TO BE CONTINUED...