Quiet rain knocked on the window, causing fatigue, pain and autumn sadness, taking away from the soul everything that was once called Faith, Hope and Miracle.
It was just an ordinary autumn evening. The same as the seventeen previous evenings. Frowny, rainy, cold and lonely.
She, like no one else, felt what it was like. When there were two cups on the table, but one was empty. When the blanket is for two but wrapped alone. When you really want to hug, squeeze in and never let go, but only a teddy bear with a shy but inanimate look.
How much does it take to feel like you're lonely? No, it's just rain outside the window on an autumn evening, a piano upset by the weather, and a fireplace that's cold. To one.
- Yesenia, you have an incredibly melodic name. Are you a musician by any chance?
- Oh, no, you're wrong. But I didn't go far - I write poems. At night.
- At night? These must be the most beautiful poems.
- It is not for me to judge...
- What do you write about, Yesenia? Is it the quiet dusk of autumn and the early haze of dawn?
- Sometimes I can't even understand it myself. Maybe about love?
- Are you in love?
- —... I don't know, but what is it?
- Happy, you just have to find out!...
- That's what everyone says, but I think they're wrong...
- Do you like fairy tales?
- Very... Are you a storyteller? Can I call you Ole-Lukoje?
- In a way. You know, dear Yesenia, I tell a lot of fairy tales. To kids, adults, old people...
- Will you tell me about it sometime?
- If only you let me... You are the most wonderful girl, Yesenia. If I were a doctor, I would write you a prescription for a fairy tale: an appointment every night!...
- But we have already arrived. It seems that my next night's poem will be dedicated to you and your wonderful umbrella. If it weren't for you, I'd probably get soaked in this miserable stop without the chance to be saved... Thank you for seeing me through!
- You're welcome. My umbrella chooses people... Fairytale people.
- Will you come sometime with a fairy tale, Ole-Luke?
- Of course! Every day, remember this. You just... Do not lock the door and go to bed, I will come in time.
- Sleep? But this is ridiculous!
- Nothing happens in life for nothing, dear Yesenia. It is I who responsibly declare to you, as a storyteller. Don't forget your umbrella at home anymore, and ... Goodnight!
No sooner had a girl blinked than a strange kind man in a gray shirt with a big black umbrella disappeared into the darkness of the night.
Since then, he's been coming to see her every day, as he promised. He read fairy poems, told stories, dreamed of her. He caught falling stars, making wishes. Just kept quiet, looking at her.
Only...
She didn't know about it. Going to bed every night, leaving the door unlocked, hiding a small teddy bear under her pillow and waiting, falling asleep with the thought of this strange Tale-teller with a black umbrella. At night, she had wonderful dreams that she had never even had as a child. She flew, walked the rainbow, collected fallen stars and fulfilled desires. She wrote poems, made up stories. In a dream, with him.
From night to night. Waking up in the morning after a bright dream, she dreamed that the evening would come soon. And he was coming, but how long he was coming!... It came, wrapped in an incomprehensible longing, autumn sadness and lack of lack; baiukal melody of October rain, whispered strange melodies of loneliness, as if playing the piano in the living room quietly for a long time forgotten Chopin, silent about what was so understandable. She is bored. According to fairy tales, dreams... For him. For him, this strange Storyteller with a black, but so necessary umbrella. Or maybe that's what she wanted to feel?
Seeing him in her dreams, she didn't even know that he was sitting next to her on the floor, looking at her beautiful features, correcting a strand of her brown hair that fell on her face and whispering a little that she dreams today.
He was a storyteller a long time ago. It seems all his life. All the time in autumn he walked with an armpit umbrella, hiding from the ruthless rain those who needed miracles. He was a dream come true for kids, old people and old ladies, young people. He made up a fairy tale on the move, trying to calm down and assure the person of warmth and kindness, he himself somewhere deep in his soul melting a tiny hope for his own miracle. Ole-Lukoye?
But he had never been so confused when he opened the door to the right apartment and had never waited for the night to come. Knowing for sure that she was already asleep, he still did not dare to cross the threshold for a long time, afraid to inadvertently wake her still dormant, listening to the silence on the other side of the door.
She is unbearably beautiful in her sleep. Dark, naturally wavy hair is scattered on the pillow, and one "naughty" curl drops on the face. One hand under the cheek, the other hand squeezes the blanket at the chest. His breath is measured, and his face smiles with every word - she is happy there, in the chambers of Morpheus ...
Yesenia... Indeed, an incredible name. Singing, enticing and mysterious. As she herself.
It happens to a lot of people, if not everyone on