Plastic Life [English]

V

Take me with yourself.

"Why did you quit the ballet?"

"I often ask myself this question. It is very difficult. Ballet it's a liberty in a little cage. It's an opportunity... to become alive, to let your soul in freedom, but you stay constrained by necessary movements all the same. It fails to have boundless liberty and absolute solitude. Evidently, I'm not... I'm not merited by ballet."

"You dance magnificently"

"That's a matter of perspective" she made a pause, thought over about it and laughed. "That's not that I mean. I tell you that I always seek too much sense for a dance. And I find too much pain."

"Why it is pain exactly?"

"It makes me real. It arouses, pushes me in an ability by making to flap with nonexistent wings and by trying to arrive me in a former stream. When I know that I have to dance well... I remember, how I lost my favourite puppy, when I was ten. How my parents split up with each other. How my grandma was died. I remember it and I don't let tears go by all of my force. And they rush by veins with blood, and I want to destroy this devil's world, and I dance. I dance the last dance of an outgoing summer. The last dance of the sunset. The last dance of a dying song of a canary and a sleeping world. The last dance for my puppy and my grandma, whose presence I begin to feel by creeps, who run by my back."

She turned away and accidentally brushed off tears from long black eyelashes.

"That is my secret. In pain."

A clumsy silence hanged in mid-air. Only gust of wind turned two shuddered bodies and dashed off to investigate the roofs.

Heaven looked at sky, where the stars spilled like beads, and smiled.

"And you? Why you didn't speak about your pictures?" Joy also looked at sky.

"There is not anything special. You have seen them."

"Only one. And it was magnificent."

"I burned down it"

"Why? For what?"

"There were not any life. It was empty."

Joe didn't know what to answer. She tried, made herself remember his small canvas, that amazed her so much. There weren't anything superfluous and anything that like drawing artists.

There were stars.

There were endless streams of stars, that turn into each other and abstract geometric shapes.

"What are you drawing now?" asked the girl casting a sidelong look at dirty by colours hands.

"Oh, it will be interesting. I'm drawing you."

"Me?" Joe became dumb.

"Yeah, there will be you and stars. I guess, it will be my best picture."

"Will you show me when it will be ready."

"It is almost ready," the boy smiled confusedly and gave his phone with a picture to Joy.

The girl looked at that picture and felt how she had a horde of goosebumps. It was incredible. The stars shined, disappeared, twinkled and appeared again by taking shape of constellations. The constellations were imposed upon each other and created something unexampled - a precise picture of a real face. A face of Joy. She was amazed.

And she could not constrain herself to speak.

So they again were lost in silence, exchanging by expressive glances and sincere smiles from time to time.

***
Joy did not hear a music. She opened eyes occasionally, peered into diffluent coloured circles and overtook them, like patches of sunlight in the childhood.

She smiled to her thoughts unintentionally.

She danced from the heart and didn't think about the death for the first time.