One day, a dear Moscow man came to his friends in Komarov.
In such cases, a chair is organized immediately.
The drinking was long, cheerful, full and ended by the morning. Moreover, white nights generally have the tendency to confuse the visitor.
The sun has already energetically slipped to the sky when the senseless body of the Moscow guest was honored by the couchmaker on the first floor of a miniature but spacious country house. The owners cleaned up in the living room under sluggish replicas of a couple of late friends from neighboring homes. Everyone was looking forward to a quick sweet sleep on anthrax.
That morning, a local landmark named Lila led his goat through the village.
They were surprisingly similar to goats.
Some still remembered Lila as a beauty, a star of Leningrad's underground square, a constant visitor to "Saigon" and the lover of the irresistible Boris Grebenchikov. From the glorious days, Lila left only a clear look of turquoise eyes, an exceptionally benevolent manner of communication and the habit of dressing in the hippie style, decorating itself with countless fences.
Once luxurious Lyalina's hair with a butterfly slipped from under the bandana. In her mouth appeared a single clique: Lila appealed to dentists only in extreme cases and demanded radical decisions. So her teeth gradually broke out, leaving one – tomatoes to bite, as she readily explained.
by Lila. She was a vegetarian.
Unlike all the others who inhabited the country village in Komarov only in the summer, Lila lived here all year round. She fed her own farm, a simple craftsman - and the fact that she guarded the houses of a large country village in the winter, bypassing the territory several times a day.
Lila knew everyone around, and if they didn’t love it, they regretted it. A bright personality, a local attraction, a humorous creature...
Sitting on the wing and cuddling in the bright morning sun, Komarov friends of the dear Moscow man smoked, cuddling tea. by passing by,
Lila shared her affairs with them. “Fuck the goat!” she said strongly. Coupled goat milk was a mandatory and essential part of the Lila diet; it was necessary to maintain the goat in a productive state in a simple and proven way.
From the invitation to look for a moment Lila did not refuse. The goat, like a bullshit, went up after her on the doorstep and stumbled into the living room. Lila did not refuse the drink too, and began to uncompromisingly beat the owners with a fresh-heated shrimp. Meanwhile, the goat examined the first floor of the house.
Dear Moscow guest slept sweetly, laying on his couch and putting drunken saliva on his pillow. From the depths of sleep he was returned some discomfort: something annoyingly ticked the capital face.
The guest spotted his eyes – and on the contrary of the sunshine that glittered into the window, he saw a thin mocked face. A large fluffy nose... non-blinking yellow eyes... small horns... The physionomy ticked his beard and struck him with an impatient gaze.
The owners and Lila heard behind their backs a strange bullshit that turned into a whirling cry. The sound source was identified by the guest sofa. Lila grumbled understandably and rushed up from the spot.
In the field of sight of the Moscow man next to the lumpy-eyed face floated another, very similar to the first. Without a beard and horns, but with a wool of linen, spinning to the sides from under the bandana. The second face smiled joyfully, uncovering the only speck in her mouth, and almost maternally gently said with a chestly voice: "The goat must be fucking!"
The Moscow man screamed terribly again and lost consciousness.
(The picture of the return to reality is illustrated by the reader’s imagination.
But the guest really put his nerves in order for quite a long time.)