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Lady in Black
Yuliya Alpagut
© Yuliya Alpagut, 2020
ISBN 978-5-4496-9808-7
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
There are things that we just remember. There are things that we do not want to forget. There are things that we cannot forget, no matter how much we want it.
There is something that we easily forgive. There is something that is hard for us to forgive, but we forgive. And there is something that we cannot forgive, no matter how much we want it.
There are people we love. There are those that we thought we once loved. There are friends, enemies and just people. There are a lot of different people around us. But there are those with whom we would never want to meet.
Pain and tears sometimes generate understanding, compassion, and forgiveness. And sometimes they generate hatred and evil…
LADY IN BLACK
1. Who are you?
Spring. Friday. Evening. Eleanor sat in an empty classroom and almost finished checking the work of her students. The phone rang. The woman took her cell phone. Diana called. Eleanor exhaled wearily and took off her big glasses. Putting them aside, she rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers and finally answered the call.
– Hello! Hi dear! – she said when she brought the phone to her ear.
– Hello mom! – her daughter’s voice rang out, – When will you come? I thought you would come early! We agreed to go shopping with you! – the twenty-year-old girl said indignantly.
– Sorry, honey. I’m already finishing up. In ten minutes I will leave.
– Ok. I’m waiting for you. Bye.
– Bye, Diana. I will be soon, – said Eleanor and turned off the phone.
Fifteen minutes later, the woman finished her work and began to gather home. She threw a mobile phone and large nondescript glasses into her huge, worn and shapeless bag. A little tidied up on the desktop and, having thrown a bag over her shoulder, looked around at the empty classroom. Sighing wearily, she went to the door.
Eleanor was about to leave the classroom, but stopped near a large mirror that hang there. The woman looked at her reflection.
The forty-six-year-old primary school teacher looked rather unattractive. She looked repulsive. Dyed white, dirty hair was collected in a ponytail at the back of the head. “Bags” under small, inexpressive eyes, small sharp nose, dried thin lips, pale skin. Dry hands and broken nails… The woman did not take care of herself.
Eleanor looked at herself in the mirror. An unkempt, tall, overweight woman looked at her from there. In a shapeless blouse, like a robe, dirty yellow color, in the same, shapeless as a bag, long skirt disgusting swamp color and brown worn out sandals.