Southerner!
This happened in those ancient times when the sky was higher, the sun shone brighter, and the fresh air stirred desires.
Youth! I was, as they say, "young, single, not registered." Girls around like flowers in a field, each more beautiful than the last!
In this southern city where fate had brought me, there was a tradition: on Fridays at 9:00 PM, the central street was closed to all traffic and reopened on Sunday at 9:00 PM. So this street became pedestrian. On both sides of the street and down its center were small cafes. In one of them, called "The Cool Spot," I met a charming girl,
her name was Elena.Elena the Beautiful, Elena the Wise! All the rapturous epithets in the Universe would not suffice to describe Her.
Lena had a narrow waist; the curves of her hips and bottom were perfect! A guitar crafted by the hand of a genius master. Slender, slightly plump legs, with their teardrop-shaped calves—a sign of Turkish blood—gracefully carried this crown of nature. Her dusky, smooth skin radiated warmth and languor.
Hair black as pitch, gathered with a clip into a ponytail, lay on Lena's shoulder. Either the clip was weak and couldn't hold the volume of her hair, or the movements of her head, sometimes sharp—especially when Lena was passionately arguing about something—kept coming undone. Then a black, shiny waterfall of her curls would cascade down her shoulder, her straight back, and her chest. Alena would gracefully raise her arms to gather this stream of black gold back together. A button on her blouse would come undone. Taming the wildness of one lovely element, she would unleash another.
Large, green, expressive eyes, with a lively, dancing sparkle shining from bottomless depths the color of young spring foliage, looked upon the world with joy and indulgence. Black, crescent-shaped eyebrows; eyelashes like two fans of an Indian rajah, flying upward, their tips touching the arches of her brows. Lips the color of ripe cherry let pass the tender sounds of her voice.
All week, until the next weekend, I lived in anticipation of meeting Alena! And then, finally, the long-awaited Friday. We board the last evening bus, which carries us to the warm and gentle sea. Myriads of stars, the moon, the sea, and Alena!
We lie naked on a wild beach, the sea breeze cooling our heated bodies. Only one desire: to float forever in this sweet languor! We soar on the currents of the breeze, savoring the magnificence of the moment, falling asleep to the rhythmic sound of the surf. The pre-dawn chill tries to wake us, but the tender embrace of our bodies is stronger than the efforts of Boreas's grandchildren.
Aurora floods the morning beach with her pink light, sea foam shimmers in the rays of the morning dawn. We are again lively and cheerful!
Hello, summer!
Smoke from lit grills whets the appetite. We wash off the salt and sweat under streams of cool water and go to have breakfast at the nearest shashlik place. There, while waiting for the roasted meat, we eat peaches, washing them down with "Southern Night" wine. Sated with shashlik, we head back to the sea! When the midday heat floods everything with unbearable scorching, Alena and I hide in an arbor of grapevines, so dense that the heat retreats from this insurmountable barrier. By evening, the heat subsides. We eat okroshka with balyk and homemade kvass, sweet grapes floating in a bowl of cold water, washing it down with dry wine. Then we go to the beach, swim. I dive and fetch rapa whelks and mussels; we fry the mussels on a sheet of tin. Seasoned with pepper and salt, sizzling mollusks washed down with wine—the exotic of the sea. Toward evening, we go to the disco, and "Funky Town" is already blaring towards us!!!
Passionate and hot embraces of young, energetic bodies!!! The sea!!! The south!!! Youth!!!