Hiking with hammocks

Lera just came to give the costume away, but she was mired in the abyss of highly intellectual conversations and it seems to be for a long time. Thanks for the tea. Lera wasn't really dark, but she still sometimes freaked out at Razumovsky's ability to start an hour and a half of conversations about art and philosophy, with sudden inserts in French and references to Kant, for no reason at all. What are they talking about with Oleg anyway? If they are talking, of course, or maybe they are usually busy with something else? In any case, now Oleg was just creating the appearance of presence, sometimes supplementing Razumovsky's speech with phrases like “aha” or “mg”. When Sergei spoke, it was as if he switched off and turned on only after he was given the floor. One thing pleases me - it seems Lera will be given a couple of days off and she will be able to sleep. To get enough sleep not on sick leave, with a fracture of everything, but to really get enough sleep. Now Razumovsky will finish his tirade and she will leave. I would like to say that “he will leave and never see him again”, but unfortunately this is not the case. The finish line! To freedom: 10, 9, 8, 7... an unknown number lights up on the screen. Lynn Berggren sings something about the perfect man. Lera picks up the phone, briefly apologizes to Razumovsky, and he seems to have finished and does not even roll his eyes. They probably offer to take out a loan or pay for those already taken earlier, although someone richer seems to have already paid for them. “Hello?” – is heard in the receiver. The voice seems vaguely familiar. “Who is this? Lera asks. The voice asks if this is Lera and if he got there. There. “This is Mark" – Now Lera remembered exactly where she had heard that voice and that accent. “Valerie, would you like to go camping with me? The weather is wonderful” Lera did not expect this. The offer was tempting, of course, but in the next two days she was going to get out of bed only closer to dinner, directly to dinner itself or to the toilet. I would like to refuse, but I also did not want to refuse, not even for mercantile reasons that some rich foreigner was offering her a meeting, but simply because Mark somehow sympathized with her, I wanted to get to know him more. And besides, Lera could not be called mercantile. — Oh, is this a date? Razumovsky suddenly became alarmed. Lera just rolled her eyes. Oh, those speakers on modern phones that turn a telephone conversation into a national treasure. “I'm sorry... I probably...” – Lera wanted to refuse, but for some reason she doubted. "Agree, ma cherie, it's a tempting offer," Razumovsky whispered. – If I were you… “I'll probably think about it.” It didn't mean “no” or something like “we'll call you back,” Lera was really going to think about this question, which she did on the way home, sitting on the subway. When she reached the room, she plopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling incomprehensibly. I dialed the number I had just written down as "Mark” “Hello, Mark? I thought, I agree.” Mark said that he would take everything necessary for the hike with him, and Lera takes things at her discretion. The plan was to go until they found trees to hang hammocks and make a halt. As soon as they hang it up, they will make a halt, well, that's all. True, it may take a long way to reach suitable trees, but that's what he's going for. Lera packed a bag in the evening, and when she left the house in the morning, they were still asleep, but the sun was already flooding the kitchen. There was something special about leaving the house early in the morning without warning anyone and leaving a note on the kitchen table. The entrance door swung open and the cool morning air, still fresh and just washed by watering machines, hit my face. The birds were chirping enthusiastically from their burning green skyscrapers, and the sky was just blue, but somehow in the morning, even though the dawn had finally worn off. Lera looked around, she usually takes the subway or the Volkov, but today is a slightly different day. Mark's car, a white Ferrari with European license plates, was parked in the shade of a spreading oak tree. The car stopped near a narrow river. Alvaro took a hiking backpack out of the trunk. A minute later, the air was filled with the sweet smell of a can of blood-sucking creatures. Mark did not look like a person who would be interested in hiking or something like that, which Lera noticed after about five minutes of making her way through thickets and field grass. "Valerie, I like you, I admit it. You're simple, I like that. Makarova smiled. We walked across the field for another fifteen minutes. It smelled of summer and flowers. It wasn't hot, but it was warm, and the wind was playing with the grass. Occasionally, lonely trees were shown, but that's not it. We were talking about something and walking around the field with Mark was easy and not unusual. Lera even liked it. —Stop, let's stop," she said after catching her breath. There were initially few forces. Work, study and training left almost no time for sleep or banal recovery. — Are you tired? — I'll rest a little and then we'll go on So they did, only after another 5 minutes they had to stop again. — Maybe we won't go any further, since it's hard for you? – Did Mark say this time? — Well, wait, since we went for the trees, we have to walk. – Lera spoke very decisively. – Otherwise, why is this all? — And who told you that we won't make it? Mark stepped aside and crouched down. Lera only looked in surprise as four birch trees grew in a matter of seconds in a vacant lot. – We've already reached it.