A cup of coffee and cold ice

All the love,.
loving and looking for love.
in this world, is dedicated to.
In the wonders to be believed,.
with all your heart, soul and even a cold mind.




Once, when the first snow has covered the earth and the air was filled with the freshness of the winter, this night I had a dream. Brave and beautiful. This story happened to me as a reality.

In my dream I was completely unknown to the young man, brave, strong and at the same time in a refined, aristocratic. With a shock of dark hair and eyes wide open. Sky -light his eyes seemed to me to mother, a warm, soulful.

I caught myself thinking that my incredibly handsome stranger. He seems to have noticed how much it was my confusion, but it did not attach the slightest importance what is happening.

Special, of course, nothing happened, except that from the incomprehensible some inner sense of embarrassment at the sight of a stranger here so spontaneous, I could not budge.
How do I want to run away, hide, disappear - why? .

My body betrayed no longer subordinate to my will, it was dominated by a stranger. A variety of conflicting emotions overcame me at this moment, while I have not owned a situation.

Stranger 's hand touched my back quickly, I jumped in surprise. And again he was not surprised my confusion. With the same tenacity he hugged me even tighter.
My cheeks were burning with rage and shame, the chains of his strong hands did not give up hope of freedom.
Once in captivity, and breaking his embarrassment, I felt a sweet- spicy aroma emanating from his skin. Sensual and dizzying - the smell of a real man.

Suddenly he opened his own little hands behind my back, let go of me, came a welcome freedom.
But why is it not so sweet as a few minutes ago? .
- I came to teach you to dance. This is a very, very hard, but you are strong and able to learn. I will teach you this dance of love and passion, tenderness.
- But....
- Shhh... - he seemed to have guessed that I would object to him and held his finger to my lips - do not say anything. Look!.
After these words he began to show the dance moves, his body is flexible, assertive, as sea pebbles, polished by the sea, dancing draws sketches.
The young man invited him to repeat the. I dutifully complied with some of the pa.

Our dance was smooth, easy. We hovered over the room in which were climbing higher and higher, with my feet never left the floor.

No, no, it was not a room, and large, though the throne, the hall, with lots of huge mirrors and gold decorations on the walls of the Rococo.

Music has not been heard. But we danced with such gusto that sometimes.
fancied a whole orchestra of sounds.

We stopped to take breath, and I realized that I no longer able to remain silent. With curiosity, looked into his big eyes and asked:.
- Who are you?.
- Who am I? . His name I have not talked at all about anything.
He leaned over my face, his long dark hair touched my cheek.
Gently and completely unexpected Andrew kissed me on the lips. Once a child, innocent and at the same time the desire to. As grooms kiss their brides.

Then for some reason we were on the beach. The sun sank slowly in the dark blue abyss of unknown and further.

The sky became agitated, it appeared red stains. A gust of cool sea breeze and ruffled my long hair.

The beautiful ultramarine surface of the water at that moment seemed to be absolutely clear and calm.
Only the wind gusts fast foamed sea, but the waves leveled stubbornly.
It was still fairly light, though the sun had gone far beyond the horizon, flushing green light for a split second.

Wind began to grow, not wanting to give the sea, and has already ripped off the tops of the waves.
My hearing caressing sounds of the sea and the waves of violent attacks on the coastal cliffs. The snow-white sea foam covered rocks lace veil.

Andrew was holding my hand and said something. We walked barefoot through the wet, still noticeably warm from the daytime sun, shining sand.
And the sea flirted with us.
His tidal wave runup, and the water washed away our footprints, sand again became smooth and even.
I was plagued by an inexplicable state of happiness.

I wanted to make this moment last forever, but my thought terminates strong wind. Fog, wind and mixed with sand, steals the image of Andrew.
My favorite disappears, barely audibly hear his muffled voice: ...

Large drops of rain fell on my face. Caught unawares, I woke up.
Dive back to sleep did not work, stay in bed no more force.

Waking up, even more than an hour after that strange dream I could not get over it.

Briefly glanced at his watch, standing next to the nightstand - even late at night. Home sweet sleep.

Quietly got out of bed and tiptoed to the window came up. Outside the window, as before, it was snowing. The serene and light, fluffy flakes, he wrapped up the fields and woods, and on this snowy whiteness shone all around.

I felt lonely: perhaps, for all his twenty-five years I did not think about it, just do not have time to show their purely feminine weakness.

When there is someone who is ready to support this very great weakness, it is already not a weakness, and joy.

Despite the fact that one I've never been, the lack of spiritual kinship with all of my former lovers has now become evident. I think many young women have experienced similar.

As time passes, and sometimes I will remember that extraordinary dream. And how could I forget it, so distinct and clear.

But apparently, there are miracles in life, except as may be called anything that happened more.

Once I watched something on television and, not wishing to look more, automatically switched to another channel.

I was watching it from the screen, the young man from my dream. Lips, eyes, hair - all in a dream. The similarity? .

He smiled and sat in silence, until the judge put it deserved vying for the evaluation of performance.

A few minutes sufficed essential to know who he is. my.
visitor's dream is the same as in a dream, the name - Andrew. He was a skater, a virtuoso master of his craft....

Now that I knew who he was, I was not difficult to find it. Maybe for someone to Moscow and the big city, but not for Lovers. Strangely, even sounds - ...

At the briefing in the editorial, I immediately told the editor that I wanted to write a short article about an obscure but very talented skater.

About Andrei little was known: five years ago was involved in figure skating championships, won a pair of silver medals, and, as often happens after the excessive hype over time was forgotten. Prior to the invitation to the popular television show last years he lived and worked in the U.S.. And not a single interview with the glossy publication.

Editor in Chief, having learned so meager biography of my hero, frowned, sniffed his nose a few times, muttered something, gave up and agreed. In the two years of my work in the magazine, he learned to tolerate my weird antics on articles, and trusted journalistic intuition.

On the next morning I was at a Moscow skating rink. Among the ... Of course, it was Andrew.

He was warned about the visit of a young journalist. I stood and watched as the skaters train, and waited for my hero.
He was about to drive up to the podium. With the anxiety and anticipation of something unusual was thinking about it. Unparalleled sense of the unknown.

Suddenly my cell phone rang. As luck would have called Deputy. editor. I just was not up to it! .
Maneuvers with the phone were not in vain: Andrew disappeared from my line of vision.

And then someone gently touched my shoulder, I turned.

Before me was Andrew. When he came to the excitement, I decided to explain the purpose of my coming:.
- I - journalist. I would like to talk to you....
He did not let me finish the last word and interrupted.
- Do you?.
I was confused by this treatment and the question.
- Hey, we never could before dating? .
laugh at me, but I saw you in my dreams.
- It does not happen - with irony in his voice I said. Only the telltale heart ached from the injustice and my self-restraint.
- Sometimes, even as it happens! .

We both laughed so loudly that everyone at the rink with a surprise.
looked in our direction.

An hour later we were sitting in a cozy little cafe, in which resounded heady aroma of roasted coffee and freshly baked muffins.

Thanks to the early hour of half-empty cafe look. We do not want to attract the attention of others, and I chose the long table near the window.

Finally we were able to start the conversation. We drank coffee and ate Arabic oriental sweets with almonds. We talked a lot about Andrew: his childhood years, the first steps in amateur sports. About life in America and a strong nostalgia for Russia: how often he lacks traditional Russian culture, life, frosty winters, Moscow streets... He even began to recite poems with great sadness Brodsky in his eyes and poetry.
At half the poem, he paused. He sighed heavily and took a sip of coffee.

We were so warm, calm, together. Andrew touched the hand of my hand. I guess I wanted this. Very willing and waiting.

Looking at Andrew, a romantic and enthusiastic, I do not feel lonely.

The world has some bright, busy, exciting. Not alone and a stranger, and woven of fine. That's why it was that a dream come true, or because everyone sees love differently? .

All previous thoughts were so small, there is nothing contrary to love. ...
And outside a small cafe began to snow again, I was no longer cold, I no longer had a....

Marie Liberte.





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