* * *…Shabby bearded man suddenly turned to a laptop, passed fingers through a keyboard typing: «Have you prayed at night, Desdemona?».
The message has been sent, Zvezditsky is doomed!
The smile intended to the recipient. But mirror in the frame said «you are a freak»! He crumpled his face into grimace and a moment later, released a smile. Easier and touching one. The mirror replied with a grin. He snorted : time for smiles didn\'t come yet. Patience. Patience. Here we go… And the mirror heeded his owner\'s desires.
His hair turned gray in couple of months, his shoulders buckled as if under load beyond a human force, vertical wrinkles are folding face like scars. Why? Old Age? Nope. Gravy thoughts. Global project burns the liver.
Suddenly for a moment the look got brighter under his chubby eyebrows and eyes had flashed in an even light. Reflection trembled, blurring: he seem to be slimmer now, the features had softened turning into an eminent figure. The thought had draw the triumph image with a bright dabs: who would know! Who could think of!! Under the mask of photographer from «Corridors of Time» magazine acting the Maestro himself. Maestro of Resonance.
Damn news from Maestro caused frustration. The victory seemed to be of Pyrrhic. Especially now, on unbearably hot evening. Ilya didn\'t take a favorite perfume with scent of bergamot on purpose. Not give himself a reason to relax, not to fall in love with his own self, not to feel as esthete again. Ah, desire for bath is so irresistible, for bath with herbs and aroma.
So what am I waiting for? Suites of Sunrise are around the corner.
Rain of cats and dogs bursted suddenly. Purring and growling like a voracious beast, spilling bubbles out. An alert? Damn it.
Lightning came to act, raging in fury. Thunder echoes in awesome growl… Damn it.
Wind, playing with a window, broke a glass.
Damn it!
Now the light went out. An edgy blow of signs? In pitch darkness a branch of tree began squeaking, ringing with the broken glass\' fragments.
Damn it!
What if Maestro is a myth? Someone\'s stupid joke?! Oh my God, his fuse is blown. As one had say
: if Jupiter would punish he would deprive a man of reason .
* * *«For that reason I\'ve been appointed as stroke of fate to turn everything back to order. The mask of mercenary is merely a mask for the Carnival of life. Yet the essence of the brand is to lead the ball, you can\'t just pull the mask off. Yet. So much worse for those who forgot to pay. And the killer\'s mask dictates to careless: the work is done you must to pay! Didn\'t pay in three days – you\'ve got to wait! I\'ll take the payment myself. And not in Franklin\'s portraits but in life.
