The evening came obscenely fast. Esher listened to his rumbling stomach and thought lazily about what he would make for dinner. He glanced at the window, where the pinking sky was reflected. The purple-gold clouds merged together with the blue smoke from the chimneys of the factories. Black spires of roofs jutted into the sky, jaws of cast-iron arrows jutting menacingly. On the roof of the house across the street, a weather vane creaked and twirled. The corroded pin holding the thin iron sheet dragon figure swayed in the breeze. Esher was sure that one day the weather vane would fall to the sidewalk, driving down the dark tiles.
Sighing silently at his thoughts, Esher stacked all the drawers on top of each other and stashed them in his desk drawer. He then stood up from the desk and slid his chair in, turning off the table lamp with the green glass shade. The brass chain twitched and began to swing. Staring at it for a second, the guy blinked, then adjusted the thin steel frames of his glasses.
"Gotta make it to the market before I go home."
Putting on his coat and a thin scarf on top, Esher walked out of the office. Walking a little way, he reached the front desk and reached for the dilapidated register. He found his name and checked the "gone" box. There was no one at the desk.
"Varvara has left her desk again," Esher noted unhappily. After a moment's thought, he snatched a small scrap of newspaper from Varvara's desk and wrote in sprawling handwriting, "I'm going to report you for absenteeism, Varvara" (ред.)Putting the fountain pen aside, the boy left the note on the desk on his own.
When he stepped outside, he immediately felt a gust of cold autumn wind. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he walked on, mentally saluting the shrunken weather vane on the roof of the neighboring house. In the evening, people poured out of their homes and offices, hurrying home. Walking down the street to a small streetcar stop, Esher sat down on a bench and covered his eyes. He usually didn't use public transportation to save money, but today was a particularly hard day. If he walked, he wouldn't make it to the market in time. Spending a few latons now was a reasonable sacrifice.
Waiting for the streetcar, a long iron car with no windows or doors, Esher hopped inside. Inside, all the benches were already occupied, which wasn't surprising. Sighing to himself, the boy mentally prepared himself to stand until the right stop. Sadly staring at the passing houses and figures of people wrapped in warm clothes, Esher continued to fantasize about what he wanted for dinner.
"Meat? No... Too expensive, and it's not a holiday after all. I could cook vegetables, but I'm tired of the lean broth with floating carrots. I want something tasty... I know! Today I'll roast vegetables with spices and bread. Together with hot broth, these sandwiches will be more than a tasty appetizer!"
Esher continued to stare out the window. Suddenly he thought he saw a black silhouette in a coat standing in the street. He stood at attention, as if he were on guard of honor. The vision vanished as soon as Esher blinked, startled by the suddenness of what he saw. The silhouette had only appeared for a split second, but it seemed so real and unreal at the same time that cold chills ran down Esher's spine. For some reason, he felt uncomfortable. A strange cold sensation tingled his shoulder blades as soon as he looked outside. The rest of the way to his stop, Esher didn't risk lifting his gaze from the floor.
When he reached the market, the feeling in his shoulder blades disappeared and overcoming his apprehension, he stepped outside and immediately looked around. No dark silhouettes. He had really imagined it. Writing it off to fatigue and exhaustion, Esher walked towards the market. As expected, a whole crowd of people had gathered there. The always lively market was open at all hours of the day and night, never allowing the goods to run out. Squeezing through the backs of people, the boy approached the food stalls. As he made his way to the counter, Esher adjusted his glasses, which had slipped down to the tip of his nose, and grumbled unhappily. He didn't like crowds of people, and potentially physical contact with them irritated him more than anything else. He looked at the merchandise and took a quick look at the assortment.
- Is there anything in particular you want, young man? - A woman in an unkempt work shirt shouted at him. The linen fabric was yellowed from time and wear, and there was a black blurred stain on the collar, as if the dirt had been scrubbed away but only dented into the fabric. - Take the patissons! Very fresh and delicious, I assure you. And cabbage. Roast them with spices and they're the best appetizer for dark beer!
With a nod of his head, Esher agreed to take one patisson and some vegetables for garnish. He refused the cabbage because of the price, but promised to definitely come back in the future.
"What an annoying woman," Esher grumbled to himself as he accepted the paper bag of vegetables. The next destination was the bakery. Deciding not to buy bread at the market, the boy made his way through the crowd into the alley and wandered through the yards to his street. He lived on the outskirts of a working-class neighborhood where the rent was lower. It allowed him to save money but sacrifice time. The drive to the post office took almost an hour and a half. Economical to the core, he didn't want to waste money on the streetcar, but he sacrifi (ред.)quickly bought a loaf of white bread and went home.
His apartment was a small studio with only one extra room, a bathroom. The old cracked walls were covered in small rust drips from leaking pipes, the bed was once again in disarray, and the kitchen table, which had once been a work table, was empty.
Escher didn't like this place. He was cramped in here. He'd sold his textbooks long ago, with no hope of returning to his studies, so the space on one of the two shelves was vacant. Casting a bored look around his house, Esher turned on the lights, flicking on the switch and made his way inside. Placing the paper bag of food on the table, he quickly changed his clothes, throwing his coat off his shoulders onto a coat rack and throwing a wool shawl over himself. The fabric tickled his neck and gave him warmth. The fringe, made of mulin, was disheveled from time. Having corrected his glasses again, the boy started cooking.
First, heated a skillet on medium heat, greasing its bottom with a piece of lard. While the cast iron was warming on the fire, Esher pulled out some patissons, tomatoes, and a small pumpkin the size of his head. After rinsing them in cold water, the lad wiped his hands with a towel and carefully placed the sliced pieces of white bread in the pan. Returning to the patissons, he started slicing them into slices, cutting those into a few more pieces. Then he put them on another part of the pan, not forgetting to salt and sprinkle them with pepper. After turning the bread slices over, Esher sprinkled them with spicy spices and returned to cutting vegetables. Next in line was the pumpkin, which he cut up and cleaned of its bones. Having decided to fry it in cubes, the guy deftly wielding a knife sent the ready cut to the frying pan, mixing it with patissons. The last in line were the tomatoes.
After peeling them, Esher crushed them with the flat part of his knife and placed them carefully with the patissons and pumpkin. The tomato juice mixed with the pumpkin and softened it. The rich aroma of fall with spicy spices filled Esher's nostrils. The sizzling of oil in the pan made his already empty stomach rumble. Swallowing, the boy pulled slices of bread soaked in vegetable juice out of the skillet and piled them on a plate. The hot, crispy toast beckoned him to take a bite. Taking out a small pot of vegetable broth, Esher put it on the stove to boil.
Already preparing for a delicious dinner, he pulled a small bottle of cider from the kitchen drawer and poured it into a mug. Within minutes, a hot dinner of vegetable broth, hot crispy toast, and a simple stew with patissons and pumpkin was on the table in front of Esher. Swallowing the saliva that had accumulated, the boy sat down at the table. After scooping up the broth with a spoon, Esher immediately swallowed it and took a bite of toast. The hot food entering his esophagus caused a pleasant sensation of warmth to travel through his body and settle somewhere on his fingertips. Moaning quietly with pleasure, the boy quickly began to eat the soup, finally realizing how hungry he was. The soup plate was quickly emptied and the soup was replaced by stew. Eating it along with the toast and drinking the cider, Esher finally felt that the work evening was over. And it was his time to rest. The spring in his spine loosened and the boy relaxed. The hot food and booze had mellowed him out, so after a hearty dinner, Esher immediately fell into bed and moaned into his pillow in bliss. Rolling over onto his back, he removed his glasses, letting them dangle on a gilded chain around his neck. Suddenly, something rustled behind his sinus like starchy paper. Opening his eyes, Esher quickly grabbed his chest where it rustled. He had completely forgotten about that strange letter he had put aside from the other letters this afternoon! And now it was at his house!