But you will remember me. (With)

Damn Witcher. The crystal clear quintessence of dangerous pleasure flows into the brain in a powerful stream, not allowing the strength to take your eyes off what is happening, and therefore absolutely all matters are sent to the devil’s grandmother, and the pleasure continues.
Don’t play The Witcher.

Now, however, I will not talk about him, but about a case that recently, quite recently, shocked me very much due to the lack of such practice of what is happening.
I came home, sat down at the computer with the thought that out of fresh emotions I would write thatO happened to me on the way home, but… double clicking on a certain icon sent this case to the same grandmother. Still the same devil.

And while my favorite ketchup is flowing, I will crookedly, clumsily, because I have no experience of beautifully retelling events without lying, I will tell you how I met one person.
girl.
And what happened next.
No, no, there will be no love howls, calm down.
It would seem that there are a lot of girls, and this girl did not stand out from the crowd.
Although there are usually no crowds on public transport at two o’clock in the afternoon, but for the sake of the word Krasna could not help but go over this expression.

Drawing the scene.
Trolleybus. Empty because just from the “ring”.
Emiel, wanting to go home and play Geralt.
Front platform of the trolleybus. Next to the driver’s cabin. Semi-sideways towards the driver, semi-sideways towards those sitting in the cabin. The left hand is in the pocket of black jeans, the right hand is somewhere in free fall. As usual.
Everyone sits down, gets into the transport. There is no seating, but there are so few people that only a small number are left standing.
Way to go, everything is as usual.
There’s a girl standing nearby. Ordinary girl. Looks like a person.
At that moment, due to the peculiarities of my vision, I did not look at her, but my peripheral vision recorded that she was behaving as usual. Standing, staggering, occasionally adjusts his falling off head.
Eight stops before my destination (for those who don’t read the first lines at all, this is home) it moves a little closer to the center. If earlier, as you remember, she stood on my left hand just next to the driver’s cabin, now she found herself on my right hand and further than me in relation to the cabin.
In general, everything is fine so far.
Exactly five stops before the Witcher’s moment X, the wrath began.

We were standing at the bus stop.
The doors closed, the big horned car drove off.
Physicists will be able to explain this competently from the point of view of their science, but I will do without unfamiliar philosophies: when the vehicle begins to move forward, people, if they are facing the cabin, fall back. Well, they don’t fall if they’re not drunk and stand firmly on their feet, but the point is clear.
In my case I haven’t moved anywhere because I am the king of the world and the laws of physics do not apply to me I control such moments very clearly and never try not to “swing” on them. At least some interest in traveling in public transport. (:
But then the girl who was already standing on my right hand, apparently let go of the handrail, turned to face me and grabbed my hand, which, as we all unanimously and cheerfully remember, is on the right side of my body in creative freedom, and… naturally, does not fall.
None of us fall.
It happens, friends.

And to hell with it.
I feel how your tension is growing, I make the music that pours out of the speakers at you, louder, louder, GROOOOOOOM..

And she says, looking www.slotsgem.co.uk me straight in the eyes:
– We will all die.

This fact did not surprise me.
What surprised me was that I’ve been toying with such thoughts for a relatively long time, twisting and turning them as I please.
I shared long discussions with my friends about all sorts of meanings, callings, deaths, but my friends didn’t really like it.
And to these very acquaintances I said exactly the same thing when I needed to make some impression or correctly convey the nuance of a thought:
– We will all die.
I’m surprised she even said that.
I was surprised that she said word for word, as I once said.
I was surprised by her look. Due to the same peculiarities of vision, I am deprived of the misfortune of seeing people’s eyes, even if it is at a fairly close distance, but by slightly closing my eyes, this problem is partially solved, as in this case. There was something so… foggy in her eyes. And at the same time she smiled. Her hand still didn’t let go of mine.
This is how the first stage of my mild—still mild—shock passed.
It wasn’t scary – it was interesting and… intriguing. Honestly, this is the first girl in my memory that starts any conversation with any person in this way. Like a thought hunter I couldn’t miss the chance. However, I didn’t even have to ask anything. And generally speaking.

– You know, there are a lot of girls. But you will remember me. Others will simply pass by with a shrug, but not me.
But you will remember me.

Damn it, she was right about that. I remembered her. At least because I haven’t found any logic in her words yet. As well as connections between sentences.

This entire mini-monologue took place during one stop. She still held her hand. I didn’t take my eyes off her eyes, but I unfocused my vision so that I would no longer have the honor of beholding her fog.
The trolleybus stopped at the stop again. There was silence. People around didn’t pay attention to us. Because she spoke very quietly. And also the noise of traffic. No one stood nearby, they only sat nearby, but they, it seemed, either skillfully pretended that the worries of life and death did not bother them, or really did not hear. I don’t know, I don’t know.

We’re moving again. Again she was led back, this time stronger than the first. Her hand caught her jacket, which, out of habit, was not buttoned. When her stability became stable, she moved to the other side of me, standing, as originally, on the left.
— You don’t know how you can find out the card’s expiration date? I bought it, but I don’t remember when, and I need.
It was quite clear that this was nonsense. This is not what she wanted to tell me, but her first attempts to start a conversation failed a little, no matter how you look at it.
To support her desire, I told her in three words what to do.
The trolleybus was still on its way to the next stop.
She stepped forward towards me. This girl was shorter than me, which, however, is not surprising, and thus I had my favorite, adored opportunity to say what I wanted, right into the ear of my interlocutor, bending slightly.
Without the special effort that goes into normal speech (yes, it sounds crazy, but in fact, even with acting experience, I can’t speak at normal volume without getting tired after half an hour and giving up on this idea).
She, too, naturally could speak even more quietly. And even more frankly. The latter didn’t happen, which is sad, but oh well.
-You will remember me because I’m not like them. But you will remember me. We will all die someday, but you will remember me.
– Yes, we will die, but let’s do it not here and not now.
– We will all die. Sadly. But you will remember me.

Of course, according to all the traditions of the literary genre, the trolleybus arrived at her stop, and she, saying goodbye with a gentle “bye,” left. It’s a pity. I love the talk about how we’re all going to die.

What was that? I don’t know. I can only guess.
Guess by the strength and… tenderness that she squeezed my hand.
Guess from the fact that she voluntarily violated her personal space. Yours and mine.
Guess by her look. To that very same. Foggy.
Guess by her appearance. She is not the very first beauty, I must say, but she is quite pretty. And her perfume is good. And clothes. And she takes care of herself, despite minor problems, also as a proper girl should.
I can guess from the fact that my peripheral vision, even before the action began, noted that the girl was looking at me quite intently. Or not at me – fortunately, from that short distance I could not see. But in those moments I was definitely in her field of vision. And something tells me that I was the “target”.

I can guess that she wanted to get acquainted and, perhaps, communicate further. And in the absence of any other interesting or relevant topics for her, she decided to do it this way.
I don’t think that she suffers from something mentally disturbed – probably this idea is dismissed by the fact that she and I are similar in certain thoughts.
She was clinging – it was clear. It was clear that she wanted something from me.
Maybe I should speak up. Although she did not leave behind the feeling that she felt better. And it was hard for her – I felt it perfectly.
She was not ordinary – although she looked like one.
She wasn’t ordinary just because she said what she said. I don’t know what to call it, but..

She left no phone number, no name, no other information – nothing.
Can’t say I needed it. No. Throughout our, um, conversation, I was calm, and she probably felt it.
She wanted emotions from me? I wanted support? I would have given her the second one if we were not in transport, but in a quieter and more distant place from everyday life. The first is difficult to get with such thoughts – I was too savvy, but she didn’t know that. She wanted to play on the effect of surprise? Surprise? Hit? Interest?
No answers.

Either way she’s gone forever and that’s not good. And not bad. It’s just a fact.
You can guess for a long time what she was trying to tell me, what to convey (obviously not the thought of the death of every person). She carried some kind of second bottom in these few lines. And maybe I understood it, but the truth will still remain with her.

But I definitely gave her one of the desired actions.
I remembered her.