Metamorphosis-1. Sensation of the Woman

She will be able to stand on both legs, and go…

Her gaze tells me – lead me…

It’s your turn.

As I – led you, so you – now take the reins of government into your own hands.

Lead me…

Chapter 5. ESTROGEN

– Brakes.

– Well…

«Stop it…»

We are sitting with my grandfather in my room, grandfather is on his favorite «stool», and I am at my workplace. I am getting ready to do my homework – so I was forced to use both the recorder of my emotions and the designer of thought forms. And it was necessary to manage this ancient bio-memory by hand.

As Goetano told me, this is my friend – we are studying with him in the same group, historians do not specifically change the management system of ancient bio-memories in order to maximize the sense of those eras. You have to wave your hands in the air to change focus or rotate the angle. Lighting is also sometimes unusable.

Image quality and resolution is…

What does not feel the effect of presence. As if you were stuck in some kind of scenery. Even somehow at ease. I understand that I stayed in my room and only a fully spatial image filled my senses. But the brain refuses to believe. I’m used to the modern quality of broadcasting. Moreover – there is no emotional background at all. What, then, they still did not know how to supplement their emotional background with the content?

Can there really be such smells? This seems to be called – cigarette smoke? Somewhere I already heard about it. Pregenereal era. When people still used artificial stimulants.

Horror.

What about the lighting in the restaurant? No selectivity or filtering. Well, at least the words, these old ones, I know almost everything…

«Trunk», «nuclear explosion».

As soon as historians understand this in everything?

But with the shoe, with this one – I don’t understand anything. Why is he so drawn? Of course – in his vision everything looks pretty sexy and beautiful. But somehow I don’t feel anything. And than…

I can’t understand in any way – is it my mamin’s or sexin’s there with him?

Grandfather will now begin to call me stupid and brainless. And how do I figure it all out? He feels good – he remembers all this himself. His father interrupted his physiology in the middle of the second genereal, grandfather – then he was already an adult. Previously, it was not fashionable for them to delay the birth of children until the second genereal.

And my dad – at the end of his first general, he took care of the offspring and…

By the way – you need to ask my grandfather what kind of story happened with my father’s sexin, after which – he also decided to end his physiological life.

What did he think up there again?

«Brakes.» Where does he only take such words? It’s good that I’m already used to it and I know almost all of its antediluvian vocabulary. No, I would say – pause. So no – slow down.

«Well again, grandfather?»

– If you think that I have already begun to understand something, then you are mistaken.

Something he somehow bent. Maybe – again, deviations from functionality have begun? So instantaneous (medical drone) would have rushed. And would render him full physiological help.

Well, where do I have his bio-indicators?

Hormone release? And which ones? From the estrogen group?

– Grandfather…

– Yes, you have sexual arousal! In your age!

– Call your sexin’s? Or – start a psychocorrection?

– Yes, shut up you, «granddaughter»!

«Can you be silent for at least five minutes?!»

– Let me catch my breath.

Chapter 6. CURL

She stood right under the air fan grill. Not really – in the aisle, but not at the very door of the car.

The subway car swayed up and down, and sideways, it was thrown on turns. The bursting air also changed its intensity, due to pressure surges in the subway tunnel. Therefore – it seemed that some magical gin from a bottle was sitting behind a fan grill and having folded his lips «into a tube» – he was trying to ruffle his hair. Her hairdo. That – blows harder, then weaken the pressure…

I saw some kind of brilliance. Something flashed in the gray mass of fellow travelers around me. It could be a «bunny» from the searchlight in the tunnel, or a reflection from the glass on the clock of someone who suddenly decided to move his hand «in the clock».

Why did I decide to turn my head in the direction of this brilliant flash? What pushed me?

But I couldn’t take my eyes off. And even when at the bus stop – the car was emptied and re-filled, even this hustle, bumps and «rubbing» with my whole body, loud exclamations and a mishmash of gray shades of clothes on people – all this could not tear my gaze…

On the contrary – I was a couple of meters closer…

He glowed and winked at me, swaying to the beat of the carriage.

Stop again. Again – loading and unloading. And I’m even closer to her…

Something just pulls me toward her and him.

To this light and tender, as if a leaf of maple fluttering in the wind, or a white sakura flower.

To curls and spring elongation – a slightly reddish and white curl.

Blond curl.

So, it seems poets say…