The Island of Charon. 3. 1. Captain of the Ship

Àëåêñàíäðà Êðþ÷êîâà
THE ISLAND OF CHARON

a novel in the series
"PLAYING ANOTHER REALITY"

CHAPTER 3. THE CAPTAIN OF THE SHIP

3.1. THE CAPTAIN

Michael was the captain of a ship. At first. And then he became an important person in political circles. When I got a literary prize at the Central House of Writers, the President awarded him a state one. But Michael was also a creator like me, and, unlike me, he was a genius. Actually, we met each other on the creative wave. And then…

Michael turned each of our meetings into a firework of emotions. He seemed to be trying all the time to prove to me or even to himself, he was the best, no one would be like him. It was certainly pleasant, but not at all necessary, because Michael was already the best, at least for me. Not just damn charming, tall and, as they say, athletic, but also an intelligent and wise person, Michael liked to read a lot, to dress stylishly, to eat delicious food and to be perfumed expensively. When we walked around the city, I envied myself, “What a man I am walking next to!” Actually, we were a wonderful couple, not only outwardly.

Sometimes I wondered why Michael would not find himself a young girl, because I was only seven years younger than him. Once (although we quarreled only twice), I even sent him to… prostitutes, but he calmly replied that it was interesting and pleasant for him to communicate with me, as an intelligent and wise person, and, despite the fact that we were completely different in characters, we had common interests, intellectual and physical compatibility, and prostitutes were a road to nowhere.

Yes, I considered myself a bad lover, but only with Michael I kissed on the lips, such kisses were his know-how, and exceptionally easily and unobtrusively, on his initiative, with my consent, we tried in bed everything and then returned to the traditional classic.

Michael was a leader, and I appreciated it, because, of course, I was an unquestioning dictator at job, but in personal relationship — a submissive clay.

I knew Michael for many years, not only by words, but by deeds, so I could assure you, he was exactly the man that almost all led women were dreaming of. Any of us could feel with him safety like behind a stone wall. He didn’t hide his head in the sand, like an ostrich, but courageously solved every problem.

There’s no subjunctive mood in history, but… Michael was the only man sent to me from Above, whom I would marry immediately, having quite consciously agreed with the fact that…

“MUMMY!!!” it exploded somewhere very close…

“Her cry will even raise the dead from the coffin!” I thought and opened my eyes…

The water was arriving… High tide…