Nana

- For centuries and thousands of years Virgin Maria have been empowering women with spiritual power and moral clarity. Nowadays, people prey to Virgin to survive the mundane obstacles, strengthen the marriage and protect family home. Offer the necklace with silver patina right now and we will get you a discount for a gorgeous headscarf, that will gently flow from your head during the sacrament of prayer and define your modesty and natural grace... Stop.- A woman choked and sipped from her thermos. - Are you fucking crazy? Why did you write that? What thousands?

- Chill out, hon. It`s OK. Clients will appreciate it.

Nana took off her headphones, walked away from the microphone and properly coughed up. Her lounges started to disturb her this month. She wanted to eat badly. Exuding caramel perfume around herself, She walked to the sofa loaded by things, and took out a tiny, merveilleuse backpack. The cold phone laid directly under the air conditioner shone with a new screen. Nana brought the phone closer to her.

"See you on Saturday, 15.00. Your bunny"

Nana loved when Boris signed his messages as if they were not written in social media, but were scribbled on a piece of craft paper. Her eyes lit up with a wet light that reflected the blue stripes from the monitor, and painted her face in a pink tone that was not typical of it every day.

"Of course, Amigo. Today I`m going to "XO" again, I will definitely take a picture for you *KISS*»

"Hell yeah! Just send it in Telegram, I have disabled notifications there."

"In Telegram", Nana repeated. Does that mean he hasn't told her yet? What if he never says? What if I really should always be in the corps de ballet?» The process of self-pity and regret for the past has already been started. "Who am I to him? Nobody. A young cow, a fresh chick". She looked at the reflection of the screen, which had gone cold again. "More like a fresh chick... Still, I'm surprisingly good with these new lashes. No, I need to see you before Saturday, otherwise everything will be wasted". She looked around. On both sides of all escalators, people were looking at their phones. She looked down at her denim-clad legs, which were clad in brand-new, exorbitantly expensive sneakers, as if they had been removed from a schoolboy and delivered in a time machine. She moved her hand from her chest to her waist. A huge sweatshirt covered her swollen belly, which was also hidden in narrow tights with a small belt. She looked lovingly at the faintly glistening skin of her plump hands, at the long fingers with almost as long maroon nails, and at the gold rings with fake and real stones. Yes, Saturday is definitely a long time, she thought again.

"How about you have a 'meeting' after work tonight? I'm going to arrange a lovely dinner for two. With the continuation:)»

Nana smiled carnivorously, gently using her round cheeks. She was a master of makeup, so her cheeks were only visible when she smiled. In all other cases, they were not to be found even with dogs.

The phone remained silent. Stations followed each other, deafening Nana with their discordant noise. Set the telephone to vibrate, she closed her eyes. The persistent hunger, mixed with the dope of her own perfume, which was spreading to all her receptors, made her feel sick for a second, which she easily suppressed.

Nana had always found peace and comfort in shopping centers, especially since she had started dating Boris – a solid man with an inexhaustible purse, a cool (as far as Nana knew) relationship with his wife and child, and a penchant for various sexual follies. For Nana, there was nothing in Boris that she didn't like, and he was making of her everything he wanted. Recently, however, Nana had begun to notice an increasingly repetitive detachment in his caresses and especially in his conversation, so she decided that she could not afford to constantly agree to what he was offering. Nana decided to take the situation into her own hands.

A girl in black met her. With a perfect smooth face, the goddess of brazilianos and balconettes. Evidently recognizing Nana, she ran to meet Her with the tact and grace of a Mariinsky theatre dancer and looked at Nana with animated, not-too-quick eyes.

"May I help you?" A warm smile revealed her bleached teeth, much lighter than her olive, scented skin.

"Yes, please". Nana looked around at the multicolored splendor around her. - Please, corsets of L size, all that are in the hall now, and a belt with stockings.

"I'll get it in a minute. I'll show you to the fitting room". She turned, tossing a long, glossy, black tail on her back, and walked briskly to a door she knew, behind which a vacant fitting room was hidden from prying eyes. The door clicked shut behind Nana.

Nana clumsily stripped down to her underpants, shaking her legs. She looked down at her body. Full and airy as a huge cake, it was marked by stretch marks and irritating sharp roughnesses. She pulled her leg out of the nylon stocking that clung to it. Her fingers and feet, blue and cold, could not get warm on the pink, synthetic rug. There was a gentle knock on the door.

"If you need anything else, click the button." The girl with the tail handed her two Lacy rags, on top of which lay two black, almost transparent stockings, neatly arranged.

Nana's breathing quickened. She sucked in her stomach, feeling the pain in her uterus like a sharp prick, and began wrapping her body in a corset. When her sacred torture was over, she let her hair down, ruffled it, and took a photo.

She didn't like the result. The dimples in her thighs were particularly noticeable to her. She put a belt over her corset, pulling it tighter, and put on her stockings. It was much better that way. She stood in front of the mirror half a turn, raised herself on her toes, and took another picture. "Good, she-devil," Nana said to herself, and pressed the send button.

The previous message was not read. Her hands broke a sweat. She tried to dial Boris, but it did not work – he was unavailable. Then she looked at the price tags. Her cheeks turned crimson. Agitated, Nana began to take off her right stocking and, snagging one of the many rings, left a long, vile stripe at it. Fear stunned her. She quickly stripped off everything and put on her old clothes. Then she pushed the button hard. The helpful girl came running in a few seconds.

"I'm sorry, it doesn't seem like my style." Nana handed the girl with the tail a pile of crumpled black underwear. The girl was about to say something.

"No," Nana interrupted. – There's no time to try on another one. "I have to go."

The girl with the tail frowned.

-        But you tried on the stockings and spoiled them.

She showed a hole in her stocking through which Nana saw a little olive finger. -You are obligated to pay.

Nana felt her forehead flush.

- OK. Let's go to the checkout.

The girl went ahead of her again, quickly and decisively. Nana unzipped her backpack and took out a small, battered purse. The young man behind the cash register glanced at him, but said nothing.

-        One thousand five hundred rubles and fifty kopecks.

Nana, feeling the sharp cold in her phalanges and the sweat between her fingers, unzipped her purse. It was completely empty in the banknote compartment, relatively full in the card compartment, and full of barely contained change. She held up both cards in turn to pay, and they refused. The cashier looked at her searchingly.

- I'll call the manager.

- No, wait! Nana stopped him excitedly and opened the secret compartment of her purse. She found three five-hundredths.

- Here.

The cashier was still looking at her.

- Fifty kopecks.

Nana was upset again. She could feel the cashier's impatience as she clung to the zipper with her fingernail. Finally, the tab gave way, and she fished out a dark, rusty ruble for him.

The cashier, with a noticeable effort, suppressed a disgusted grimace, raised his magnificent eyebrows, put money in the cash register, and took out a small coin. He lowered it gracefully in front of Nana.

Nana, immersed in a languor of shame, tried for about ten seconds to fish out a coin, and, adjusting her nails like Chinese sticks, finally grabbed it and put it in the open pocket of her purse. The sour, dirty smell of change that seemed to cover her from head to toe mingled with her persistent, unremitting perfume, and she ran out to the subway. Standing at the arrival of the train, she did not notice that an elderly lady coming out right in front of her. Nana got her white sneakers under a dirty old woman's suitcase. Burning with anger, she pushed her way into the full subway car and felt the lady roll the suitcase back in and follow him. She stood behind Nana and enveloped her in a sweaty, stuffy smell of her body.

Nana's phone vibrated. Pushing her hands through the jackets and bags of the crowd around her, she opened the message.

"*THUMBS UP*»

Good, Nana thought bitterly. "It's now or never."

"Did you tell her already?»

Boris is typing...

Boris is typing...

"Did I tell what?"

Nana pulled away from the screen and turned it off. At the popular station, most of the passengers got out of the car. Nana sat down in the vacant seat.

She put her face in her hands, hugging the backpack. The thought refused her, and her heart pounded in her burning ears.

When Nana lifted her face, the passengers were seated in front of her, as if on an exhibition. On the left, two schoolgirls were laughing about something, modestly dressed, with flashy expensive bags. To the right of them, staring blankly at a single point, was sitting a guy. His head was shaking with the vibrations of the car. In the middle, she saw a father, a mother, and a child dressed in their uniform – glasses, backpack, and boots. The boy, about seven years old, had musical notes sticking out of his backpack in different directions, dazzling white, merging with the collar on his thin neck.

To the right of the family, a girl with a gym bag staggered along, immaculately erect, fingering her peeling brick-colored fingernails. She stared at Nana's sneakers, wondering if they were real or forgery. The old woman, the one with the suitcase, completed the procession. Nana winced. The old woman sat in an old, red fur coat, in two disgusting synthetic scarves tied one over the other, and looked somewhere into herself, proudly arching her short eyebrows, shaved bald and re-drawn with a pencil. Her hair was plastered over her head in small, disgusting curls. Her sickening smell spread throughout the car.

The phone vibrated.

«Hello. I was given your contact at the Agency. My grandson was in a coma, slept through the New year. So we want to order him a snow maiden. All expenses will be paid... if possible, come on Saturday at 15.00, this is the only time when both parents will not work. Address:…»

Nana reread the message several times, only after a while understanding the meaning. Being a snow maiden was not part of her plans for Saturday, 15.00.

She looked again at the people in front of her, from left to right. What are these people doing? Why is everyone trying so hard? The impotence that had filled her since morning was beginning to suck in her forearms.

The bespectacled boy moved from his father's lap to the seat next to him. His father put a red, rough hand around him. The child rested his head on his rucksack and peered at Nana. Nana felt a hole in her soul, began to cry.

When she lifted her face from her hands for the second time, the whole exhibition became alarmed. The old woman felt unwell. She unbuttoned her fur coat, tore off the colorful scarves, and lay on the two seats with her huge belly turned out and her equally huge breasts. In the opening of her triangular cleavage, Nana noticed an image of the Virgin, which she herself had advertised this morning. The gray, deathly glow seemed especially brilliant on the old woman's chest, which was combed from dermatitis and covered with small maroon wounds. Her head, with its curls, fell back, trying to catch the air with her lips. As soon as the train stopped, Nana ran out of the car, knocking over the subway employees, and furiously pressed the side button of the phone.

"You like me. You don't know anything about my life! You stupid pig, you bastard! I'm sacrificing my time and my youth for you, and you scum can't even tell your wife that you have a second family! I'll write to her myself if you don't have guts for it!»

Boris is typing...

Boris is typing...

Boris is typing...

"Wow, how agressive... You write))»

Nana screamed and deleted all correspondence.

Two hours later, she was lying on her bed, arms outstretched, completely naked. She walked three stations, trying to embrace a new sense of freedom with every movement of her body.

She picked up the phone and dialed the number.

- Yes, Saturday, 15.00. I'm ready.

Nana gingerly walked up to the mirror. The dim, bluish light of the room sill did not adorn her sour cream-like body. She opened the wardrobe and took out the snow maiden costume. Holding it to her chest, she hugged the edges of her sleeves, and at that moment experienced a joy that she had not known before that lonely evening.