I calmly dress and leave the house. A couple of minutes, not more, left me before meeting. Him – too. But, unlike me – not only see me: until the «twelfth strike».
«Hello.»
I am extremely polite. I am not even embarrassed by the fact, that I deserve only a quarter of a full look. The text, of course, and should not wait: I cannot wait. If I wait, it’s not the one that the average citizen is expecting in response to his greeting.
«Tell me, please, haven’t you seen the sign „Passage prohibited“?»
Paradox, but before the «entrance» to the footpath really hung up «brick»! As if it is already unclear, that the footpath is not a continuation of the highway! What pedestrians walk on it, not cars! At least, must walk!
The «master of life» changes slightly in the face, but only so that the next one in the queue for the change would be me.
«What did you said?!»
Even «gold-rimmed glasses» do not save me from the «noble» contempt. The owner – both life and jeep – opens the door. He clearly intends to teach me a «lesson of life». It is possible, that the last in life. The complex allows him not only to hope, but also to count on it: a man is a head taller than me and half a cube thicker.
But he is mistaken – both in intentions and in calculations, exclusively in his own. Because «giving a lesson» is my role. Even if after this lesson life is no longer necessary for him. He, of course, is not against living yet, but I am already opposing his desire. Not «on behalf of»: «for the sake of life on earth!» I am not confused by the installation on the weaning for the sake of life, because it will not be better, because it will be better for all of us – without him. And although I act from myself and for myself, I am sure that my subjective desire coincides with the objective needs of society. And, therefore, I do not transgress: I am glad!
«Well, you…»
I immediately find out «everything about myself». I learn through the «digest» using local idiomatic expressions. On the second, the fists, «equipped» with the mount, are clearly «served» with steel mount. «Comrade» already understood everything and decided to «urgently correct» – by «correcting me».
I unclasp my hand. Quickly unclasp: there is no time to become a hero. The eye of the «master» slips into, what I have in my hand. In the next moment, his muzzy face breaks into a smile. He laughs: I have a small folding knife in my hand. This is against his mount and the muzzle, which fears the mount?
He swings at me quickly and not to scare me. Not to drive me away like an annoying fly: the guy obviously prefers words to words. Such a thing, that he used to bring to the end, ntil the end of people like me. Therefore, the «fly» is destined to not be driven away, and swatted.
But he again makes a mistake, already the second one in such a short time. I am not as defenseless as he would like. And yet I am not going to play the role assigned to me: either hit the run or hit the curb after the blow struck me. And I’m not going to join the discussion: the eternal mistake of our brother-intellectual.
Instead, I press one small button – and from a small handle of a small, supposedly folding knife, like a lightning, a small, only a few centimeters, blade flies out. That’s right: crashes, like bullet from the barrel of a pistol. And since I am aiming at the «master» in the eye, it means «there is a way for us there!»
