Писать короткие рассказы я начала чуть более года назад, хотя мечтала об этом и собиралась духом долгое время. Мне кажется, любая литература должна служить читателю, нести добро и свет, учить чему-то важному. Поэтому в каждую свою историю я пытаюсь вложить нечто позитивное, от чего становилось бы теплей и радостней. Помимо написания рассказов, я увлекаюсь фотографией и, конечно же, чтением. Как читать, так и писать предпочитаю в жанре реализма, хотя, конечно же, случаются исключения.
I started to write short stories about a year ago but I dreamed about it for a long time trying to collect some courage. I think about literature as a mean to serve people, to bring kindness and light, to teach something important. That is why I try to put some positivity in every story so that the reader can fell warmth and joy. In addition to writing I enjoy photography and reading, of course. I prefer realism either in writing or reading but some exceptions happen occasionally.
Короткий рассказ “Foreigner”
During the whole week I came across beautiful Serbian girl only couple of times and I really did not like the guy I instantly turned into the moment we met in the hallway or near the coffee machine. For some horrible reason my face turned red every time and my tongue refused to work properly. I could not come up with anything but “Hello” in Hungarian. Vishnja usually smiled charmingly and repeated the word with horrible accent which sounded adorable to me. It was even worse when we bumped into each other for the second or third time during the day. We have already exchanged greetings. What was I supposed to say or do to? I did not know any English and those couple of phrases in Croatian, which is close to Serbian, that I learned twelve years ago during my summer trip to Split, were lost somewhere in the basement of my memory. So that was the first week when I met Vishnja – full of odd moments and secret desires to see her one more time.
Friday afternoon I got email from Dori where she asked everyone who had no plans for the night to meet her and Vishnja at the bar in city center where we could spend some quality time with our new colleague. Obviously she picked the bar where ninety per cent of all customers were foreigners and travelers. I thought it was a good call. There was no reason to throw Serbian girl into the harsh reality of true Budapest nightlife. Also that bar was located in the beautiful neighborhood, right next to the biggest Synagogue in Europe. By the way, this is one of few places in the city that is patrolled by police officers twenty four hours seven days a week. Unfortunately, there are pretty sad reasons for this.
I would be lying if I said I was not nervous on my way to the bar. I was almost thirty, there were going to be the whole bunch of other people but I felt like it was my first date and I was no older than fourteen. In order to impress Vishnja with my knowledge of her mother tongue I spent some time trying to remember everything I learned in Split. However, there was no chance to show her my abilities till the end of the night. The gathering was very loud, messy and flavored with a lot of alcohol. Vishnja took the spot across the table that was why we could only exchange rare glances. But then Dory asked me to walk our guest home because the apartment that she rented was right next to mine I realized that my night had just begun. We left the bar all together but soon my colleagues, one by one, disappeared in different directions. When we finally remained alone where were still few blocks ahead. Whether it was alcohol or nice chilly spring night but I became bold and talkative. As we were walking we tried to combine all languages that each of us knew to build a conversation. I used some German phrases and she actually understood them but could answer only in English. I even managed to say few things in Serbo-Croatian notifying her that my name was Tomas and my father worked in the factory. The latter was out-of-date information since my father had already retired for five years. But it did not really matter.
We reached the door of the apartment building where she stayed. My face turned red again and I lost all tracks in my head. I was not sure if Vishnja could see that in the dark but she felt what I wanted to do and also that I did not have guts for it. So that delicate girl got on tiptoes and kissed me. The thought that she did what I was supposed to do tortured me during the whole way home. I was the man, I should have done the first step. At the same time my face wreathed in smiles because I knew for sure that our feelings were mutual.
The following morning I woke up early and surprised myself with complete absence of hangover. I was in wonderful mood and ready for action. It took me just couple of minutes to take shower, dress and run into the nearest book store where I purchased a Budapest guide in English. After that I rushed into the courtyard of Vishnja’s house. On the doorsteps I realized that had no idea what the number of her apartment or the door code was. In any other situation or with any other girl I would probably just forget about it and walk home filled with disappointment. But waiting till Monday was not an option. Something stopped me from leaving so I crossed the street and sat in the steps of the opposite house. From there I could watch Vishnja’s porch. Thirty minutes later there she was. I like to think about it as a will of destiny but most probably she just got hungry.
I went off the stairs and ran to her. As soon as Vishnja saw me, she smiled and blushed. We were just standing there for couple of seconds looking at each other and then I remembered about the book in my hands.