Healthy food has only one drawback: it is impossible to eat.

My stomach began to make an indecent growl, I quickly pressed my bag to me in the hope that it would slightly muffle the bravura sounds. True, I am in a pharmacy, which means there is no need to be embarrassed by others. Behind me is a couple: a guy and a girl, between them they are barely thirty-five years old, and the guys are quite loudly discussing the merits and demerits of the condoms displayed in the window. I'm probably too old-fashioned, but asking the pharmacist for item No. 2 has always been beyond my strength. I remember that it took me a long time to gather my courage, prepare myself mentally, break out in sweat, and then, blushing, I said to the pharmacist:

- Give me... uh... well... what's it called... citramon!

And it seemed completely incredible to me to go for the most primitive contraceptive in the company of a man, even with my own spouse. And behind my back, the lovers chirped and giggled cheerfully, and I involuntarily found myself privy to their plans for the day: first they would go to the cinema, then to the guy’s house, prudently taking several “rubber bands”, one of which would be in the shape of a bunny. Or Mickey Mouse? Now they were just discussing the shape of the product.

My stomach began to growl again, I shuddered and instantly became angry with myself. Well, what kind of nonsense? Anyone can experience health problems. And, of course, I shouldn’t have eaten just a salad of three types of cabbage for a whole week, washed down with carrot and beet juice. Why did I suddenly switch to a rabbit diet? I’m ashamed to admit, but your humble servant, Mrs. Viola Tarakanova, fell victim to television.

A month ago, I suddenly began to have a severe headache. A trip to the clinic did not clear anything up. The doctor offered to conduct examinations using modern equipment, do tests, hit me with a hammer, forced me to walk with eyes closed and squat on one leg, and when I quite successfully passed all the tests, I gave a verdict:

- Healthy as a cow.

No, naturally, he did not say these words. He muttered something about fatigue, about the need for rest and a change of impressions, and then said:

– You don’t have any problems from a medical point of view.

“Wonderful, doctor,” I was delighted. - But what to do with your head?

“It doesn’t hurt you,” modern Hippocrates firmly stated. - It seems to you! Drink valerian, it should help.

I returned home, turned on the TV and, closing one eye, stared at the screen. This means that I am a psychopath, and I instill illnesses in myself. Now my head is in complete order, and the hammer drill working under my skull is simply a figment of my wild imagination. It’s a pity that the aesculapian did not advise anything effective against the runaway fantasy. To distract myself, I focused on the screen, which showed a stocky, bald man of about fifty standing on the top of his head.

“It’s best to do such exercises in the morning,” he said in a completely calm voice, “the rush of blood into the skull will relieve many people from drowsiness, give them vigor and increase their performance.”

I envied this guy with all my heart: he was probably not familiar with such a phenomenon as migraine.

At that same second, as if having overheard my thoughts, the presenter deftly returned to his normal position, sat down in a chair and declared:

“For many years I suffered from terrible headaches. From traditional medicine there was little use, so I began to look for alternative ways of healing. And I found it! First of all it is necessary healthy eating. So, the diet for migraines... Works flawlessly, helps everyone.

I grabbed a pen and began frantically writing down recommendations. I was impressed by the dexterity with which the middle-aged man stood up on top of his head and then returned to his normal position. You can't do this trick with bad vessels.

Since then, I began to live according to Dr. Khronov’s system. I won’t say that the path to health is easy, but no one promised me quick results. The television healer also said that his book “The Road to Longevity” was recently published, and it should become a reference book for everyone who wants to reach the century mark with a strong mind, sound memory and good physical shape.

I haven’t gotten hold of this brochure yet, but I’m trying to follow the diet recommended by the doctor. And I'll tell you what: healthy food– great thing! First of all, because you will never exceed the calorie allowance, because it is simply impossible to eat a lot of healthy food, it is very tasteless. But life offers us a choice: either cabbage pies, cutlets with a golden brown crust, candy, ice cream, Olivier salad and death on the eve of your fiftieth birthday from atherosclerosis, or dietary restrictions - and at one hundred and twenty years old you will be able to participate in a marathon. I chose the latter, only now the devils are constantly playing tag in my stomach, and today I have to go to the Elephant publishing house. There are a few days left until the New Year, and those who publish my books (let me remind you: I write a detective story under the pseudonym Arina Violova) want to congratulate the author. It will be very inconvenient if, at the moment of receiving gifts, my stomach begins to perform a symphony in A major.

The small pharmacy where I sometimes go to buy cough drops never has any customers, but today, when I was eagerly awaited at Elephant, a line lined up at the counter. True, now there is only one girl left in front of me, but it seems that she simply does not know what she wants.

“Give me phenazepam,” the girl whined.

- Recipe! - the pharmacist demanded.

“No,” sighed the customer.

– This medicine is sold under the signature of a doctor.

- But I really need it!

- See a doctor.

“He won’t go to the registry office,” the girl sniffled. - I'm talking about my fiance. We are getting married soon, and I wanted to give him phenazepam.

The pharmacist, an elderly plump person, looked sternly at the fragile figure in front of the counter and could not resist a reproachful remark:

– Baby, the drug you require is not candy. They don’t accept him just like that, for the sake of entertainment!

“We have registration, and Lesha has literally become crazy,” the girl almost began to cry.

“Many men get nervous before going to the registry office,” the pharmacist thawed out, “buy valerian, an excellent remedy.” If your fiancé is a little inadequate, that's okay.

“Yeah,” the girl said tearfully. “Yesterday he spilled tea on the floor, and then took off his tie and wiped the puddle with it. This is fine?

The couple who wanted to buy condoms laughed out loud, and I left the line and quickly walked to the publishing house. I really don’t like being late, the meeting with the editor is scheduled for noon, and the clock shows already ten minutes past twelve...

About two hours later, I went outside and began packing my small car with a bunch of souvenirs I received from Elephant employees. How many times have I noticed: women are much more inventive than men. Today, representatives of the strong half of the publishing house, all as one, presented the promising author with bouquets and boxes of chocolates, and the sets turned out to be the same, and the suspicion crept into my head that they were bought in bulk at a nearby store. But the women showed their imagination: I received scented candles, perfumed soap, wonderful figurines, and a set of towels. But Anechka Larionova from the PR department distinguished herself the most - she presented me with a charming baby doll, packed in a lace envelope. The toy looked so much like a newborn that I was literally dumbfounded when Nyusha took the bag out of the closet.

– Do you keep the baby among the folders? – I exclaimed in amazement.

Larionova laughed and handed me the “child.”

To be honest, I had absolutely no use for the doll, but I couldn’t tell the truth to Nyusha, who spent both time and money running around shopping. And on Larionova’s table, among the mountains of books, I found a small brochure by Dr. Khronov, “The Road to Longevity,” and I asked for it as an addition to the present.

Very pleased with the start of the day, I sat behind the wheel and sharply pressed the gas. The car rushed forward, and a second later a woman’s squeal was heard from the right:

- Oh, mommy!

I braked, looked out the side window and jumped out of the car. A woman in a beige coat stood on the sidewalk. Or rather, the clothes were like this a couple of seconds ago, but now they are decorating them dark spots. This year’s winter has been slushy, every now and then it begins to snow, which turns into nasty rain, and I didn’t notice a rather deep puddle, drove into it and doused an unfortunate passerby with dirty water.

- Excuse me, please! – I began to wail, rushing to the victim. - It was an accident! I didn't mean to get you dirty!

“I understand,” the stranger answered sadly. She took a paper handkerchief out of her bag, tried to wipe off the largest stain that appeared right on her chest, and stated: “It’s gotten even worse.”

“I’m very uncomfortable,” I said, upset. - Take money for dry cleaning.

“Thank you, no need,” the victim intelligently refused, “I’ll throw away my coat.”

“Let’s go to the store, I’ll buy you a new one,” I suggested.

- Well, what are you talking about! – the woman unexpectedly smiled and refused. - And in general, this is the finger of God!

- What? - I did not understand.

The stranger smiled sadly.

– Soon New Year. The saddest day for me.

– Don’t you like this holiday? – I was surprised.

“Not for some time now,” the woman answered. - Dont be upset. Perhaps a small incident is a sign to me that I need to forget the past. I specifically put on a coat today; as you can see, it’s not very suitable for winter - it’s too light and light.

“But it’s not very cold,” I noted. – Do you want to extend the autumn?

“No,” the interlocutor sighed. And she explained: “My husband who died last year bought it for me.” Just in time for the New Year. Sergei went on business trips a lot and always brought something back. The coat was the last gift, and I decided that today I simply had to wear it.

I felt completely uneasy.

- Sorry, I absolutely accidentally drove into a damn puddle!

“No, everything turned out great,” the woman declared somehow feverishly. “I told you: this is a sign from above.” Olya, stop crying about the past. It’s very good that the thing is damaged, it only bothered me! I open the closet, see the coat, and my heart turns over! It should have been thrown away a long time ago, because it was because of him that Seryozha died. Do you see the buttons?

“Yes,” I nodded.

– There used to be others here, metal ones. “Seryozha returned from a business trip this morning,” the woman continued, “he was in a hurry to be in time for the New Year. I arrived at nine in the morning and took out my new clothes. I tried it on and was delighted: it was as if it had been tailored to my measurements! Sergei knew how to buy things, he was never mistaken. I'm standing in front of the mirror, admiring myself. Suddenly I see: two buttons are missing. The husband was upset at first, and then said:

“Olyushka, for now you wash your face and have breakfast, and I’ll run to the store.” I’ll buy new buttons, you change them, and everything will be fine.

I should have stopped him - my husband had just returned from a business trip and was very tired. But I really wanted to show up at work in beautiful clothes, because the days were also warm then, so I said: “Thank you, darling.”

Seryozha left, I didn’t worry for two hours, I thought he was looking for suitable fittings. And then I started calling my cell phone, but there was no answer, no greeting, the device kept saying: “The subscriber is unavailable.” And again, I didn’t hesitate, I decided that the phone’s battery was dead, and my husband had forgotten to charge it. I turned out to be so insensitive...

Olga lowered her head and was silent. I didn't know what to say either.

“In the evening they called from the traffic police,” Olga continued. – They reported that the car crashed into a pole, the driver died on the spot. My husband lost control on a slippery road.

“Terrible,” I shuddered.

The interlocutor nodded.

- Yes. That year turned out to be terrible. First, dad died, completely suddenly. He was relatively young, less than sixty. He was actively involved in sports, did not drink, did not smoke.

- Also a car accident? – I asked.

– What are your plans for today? – I decided to take the conversation in a different direction.

Olga shrugged.

“I wanted to take a walk and get rid of bitter thoughts.” But now I’ll go back to the apartment and lie down on the sofa in front of the TV.

“Get in the car,” I said decisively.

- For what? – Olga was amazed.

“First I’ll take you home, you’ll change clothes there, and then we’ll go to a cozy restaurant together.”

“Thank you, no need,” Olga began to deny.

“I’m very embarrassed about your ruined coat,” I said, “I want to at least a little make up for my guilt.”

“There’s no need to take me to dinner,” Olya resisted. – Don’t disrupt the rhythm of your life over a trifle.

“My close friends and I are celebrating Christmas today,” I explained, “we are gathering in a quiet place.” I invite you to join us. Nothing special is expected: champagne and delicious food.

The new friend suddenly laughed:

- Christmas? It's at the beginning of January! Have you mixed up anything? Or are you Catholic?

“To be honest, I’m not a church person,” I admitted, “and my friends are atheists.” But every year at the end of December we celebrate “not our Christmas.” I don’t know why this tradition developed. This is probably a reason to chat, give each other cute little things, and raise a glass of wine.

“I’ll disturb your company,” Olya sighed, “actually, I’m quite shy, I withdraw myself around strangers.”

“You will enjoy our company,” I promised. – By God, it’s better to sit in a restaurant than to stare at the TV, feeling sad in an empty apartment. And I won’t have the feeling that I caused trouble for the person on New Year’s Eve.

“Okay,” Olya suddenly agreed, “thank you.”

I opened the front door.

- Get in!

-Can I sit in the back? – Olya got nervous. “I feel uneasy around the driver.”

“Of course,” I nodded. - Just move the books and tell me the address.

We drove in silence for some time, then Olya asked:

– Do you love the writer Arina Violova? There are many of her novels here!

“Yes,” I grinned, deciding not to go into details. You never know how a half-familiar woman feels about detectives, what if she can’t stand them, it’s better to remain incognito.

“You know, this is her pseudonym,” said Olya, “in fact, the writer’s name is Viola Tarakanova.”

– Are you a fan of the crime genre? – I inquired cautiously, sneaking a look in the rearview mirror.

- I love detectives! – Olya exclaimed defiantly. – Not far from the puddle where we met, there is a publishing house; there is a stall in the hall that sells books at wholesale prices. I was just going there - the holidays were ahead, I needed to fill them with something, I wanted to enjoy police stories. Well, okay, I’ll get to “Elephant” tomorrow.

“Look through the books,” I suggested, “there is a completely new story by Violova, take it as a gift for yourself under the Christmas tree.”

- Oh, great! – Olya was clearly delighted. “It’s inconvenient to rob you, but I can’t let go of a fresh detective story.” This Tarakanova earns good money, I read an interview with her in glossy magazine, there were pictures from the writer’s new apartment. The furniture is beautiful, the kitchen is luxurious.

“The incomes of writers are greatly exaggerated by journalists,” I said quickly.

Maybe before it's too late I should introduce myself? Suddenly Olya starts a conversation on the topic: “Some people are lucky! They don’t do a damn thing, but they steal thousands! They scribble with pen on paper and live like chocolate!”

But she unexpectedly said something completely different:

– I recently purchased a book about the meaning of names. The author claims that the namesakes have the same talents. Maybe I should try writing novels too?

– Good idea, I approved. – What is your profession?

“I’m a dressmaker,” Olya answered, “I work in a big store.” They bring us trousers to hem or a skirt to be adjusted - a person will buy something in a boutique, but it doesn’t fit. Not bad service, the salary is small, but the tips are good. The shopping center never closes, I sit there for a day, then rest for two days, there is time to study literature.

– Are there really people who buy clothes at night? – I was surprised.

- That's enough! – Olya laughed.

“If you have free hours, you can try to do prose,” I continued the conversation. - But what does it have to do with the same names?

Olga laughed:

– My name is Viola Tarakanova. I probably also have the gift of prose writing, but have not yet been able to develop it.

Chapter 2

I shuddered in surprise, then parked the car and turned around:

- What is your name?

“Viola Tarakanova,” the woman repeated.

“But you introduced yourself as Olga,” I reminded.

The passenger knitted her eyebrows:

“It’s hard for you to imagine what it’s like to live with such an idiotic surname and an equally stupid name.” My mother was very romantic. She's been reading a lot historical novels and from childhood she decided: if she had a daughter, she would name her Viola. But mom didn’t take into account that she would get a husband with the last name Tarakanov. By the way, my father was against the name Viola, he told his mother: “ Better for a girl give the name Tanya or Olya.”

But the mother resisted. And here’s the result - they teased me at school about being a “remnant”.

- With soap? – I asked again.

The new friend nodded.

– When I was little, imported soap was sold, on the wrapper of which a blond beauty was drawn, and it was called “Viola.” And I'm brown-haired with brown eyes, I've never been pretty. Do you understand?

I glanced sideways at the colored bangs butter, visible from under a woolen cap:

- Brown-haired? I think you're blonde.

The interlocutor took off her headdress.

– I recently bleached my hair and made it into a bob, so I look younger. Previously, my hair hung below my shoulders, I’m tired of it! I have long wanted to change my appearance, but my father did not allow it. Even when I became an adult, he forbade me to dye my hair. And even more so during school years. How many tears I shed as a child! I even had a nervous breakdown. Of course, the fact that just at that moment my mother was admitted to the hospital and did not leave it also played a role. Dad was then confused and sent me to Aunt Nina, his sister. There I went to school and immediately introduced myself to the new place as Olya Tarakanova. Aunt Nina turned out to be wonderful person, she agreed with the school director, and I was entered into the magazine under this name. Since then, I always introduce myself this way; my real name is preserved only in official documents.

“This simply can’t be…” I muttered. – I was also teased – “Cheese brush” because of the processed Viola cheese. But I didn’t cry, I fought with the offenders, and in the end they got rid of me. Nobody wanted to walk around with a bloody nose!

The new acquaintance blinked her eyes and only now thought to ask:

- What is your name?

I pulled out my license and handed it to her.

- Oh, really? – the woman gasped.

“It seems so,” I nodded.

My namesake took out a passport from her bag.

- Look! We probably need to switch to "you". So there are already three of us!

- Who is the third? – I was completely stunned.

- Arina Violova! – Olya shook my book. – She is also Viola Tarakanova.

I smiled:

– You don’t understand, I am Arina Violova. Sorry, I didn’t want to say right away, some people react very inappropriately to a meeting with a detective author. Well, at least your father’s name was not Leninid!

“No, he was Oleg Efremovich,” Olya answered. - Listen, does this really happen?

“As you can see, yes,” I laughed.

All the way to Olya’s apartment we compared our biographies and realized that we had nothing in common except our first and last name. I never knew my mother and did not meet my father until I was an adult [Viola’s biography is described in detail in Daria Dontsova’s book “The Devil in the Snuffbox”, Eksmo Publishing House]. Olya lived in a complete family, and when her mother died, she found herself in the town of Klyazino near Moscow, where the girl was raised by her aunt. We are completely different people, dissimilar even in appearance, we are united only by our first and last names, and if I prefer to be called Vilka, then my namesake is accustomed to the name Olga.

- Why did you remain Tarakanova? – I was surprised. – As far as I understand, you were married.

“Dad was very proud of his last name,” Olga answered angrily, “so he demanded that I leave it.” But my husband, Seryozha Kharitonov, did not protest, he was generally non-confrontational.

My friends, having learned that there were two Viola Tarakanovs at the party, first opened their mouths, and then began to make toasts non-stop. Olya suddenly became cheerful; it was clear that she liked the company. Moreover, Lenya Martynov, having joked with his wife Galya, ran to the nearest flower shop and brought Ole a huge bouquet of roses, to which a cute velor bunny was tied. The rest of the guests looked at each other and began to disappear one by one from the table. They returned with gifts for Olga. You can’t buy anything interesting in a hurry, so the gifts turned out to be formulaic: a blue glass vase, a notebook-diary for next year and a couple of plush toys. But Olya was touched, and there were tears in her voice when she thanked the donors.

Around eight in the evening Olya called her friend. It looks like she was in the hospital, I heard my namesake joyfully exclaim:

– Doesn’t the ritual hurt like a stitch? Great! The main thing is to listen to your doctor. Oh, you won't believe it, I'm in a restaurant! Can you imagine, on the street today...

Healthy food has only one drawback: it is impossible to eat.

My stomach began to make an indecent growl, I quickly pressed my bag to me in the hope that it would slightly muffle the bravura sounds. True, I am in a pharmacy, which means there is no need to be embarrassed by others. Behind me is a couple: a guy and a girl, between them they are barely thirty-five years old, and the guys are quite loudly discussing the merits and demerits of the condoms displayed in the window. I'm probably too old-fashioned, but asking the pharmacist for item No. 2 has always been beyond my strength. I remember that it took me a long time to gather my courage, prepare myself mentally, break out in sweat, and then, blushing, I said to the pharmacist:

- Give me... uh... well... what's it called... citramon!

And it seemed completely incredible to me to go for the most primitive contraceptive in the company of a man, even with my own spouse. And behind my back, the lovers chirped and giggled cheerfully, and I involuntarily found myself privy to their plans for the day: first they would go to the cinema, then to the guy’s house, prudently taking several “rubber bands”, one of which would be in the shape of a bunny. Or Mickey Mouse? Now they were just discussing the shape of the product.

My stomach began to growl again, I shuddered and instantly became angry with myself. Well, what kind of nonsense? Anyone can experience health problems. And, of course, I shouldn’t have eaten just a salad of three types of cabbage for a whole week, washed down with carrot and beet juice. Why did I suddenly switch to a rabbit diet? I’m ashamed to admit, but your humble servant, Mrs. Viola Tarakanova, fell victim to television.

A month ago, I suddenly began to have a severe headache. A trip to the clinic did not clear anything up. The doctor offered to conduct examinations using modern equipment, do tests, hit me with a hammer, forced me to walk with my eyes closed and squat on one leg, and when I successfully passed all the tests, he gave a verdict:

- Healthy as a cow.

No, naturally, he did not say these words. He muttered something about fatigue, about the need for rest and a change of impressions, and then said:

– You don’t have any problems from a medical point of view.

“Wonderful, doctor,” I was delighted. - But what to do with your head?

“It doesn’t hurt you,” modern Hippocrates firmly stated. - It seems to you! Drink valerian, it should help.

I returned home, turned on the TV and, closing one eye, stared at the screen. This means that I am a psychopath, and I instill illnesses in myself. Now my head is in complete order, and the hammer drill working under my skull is simply a figment of my wild imagination. It’s a pity that the aesculapian did not advise anything effective against the runaway fantasy. To distract myself, I focused on the screen, which showed a stocky, bald man of about fifty standing on the top of his head.

“It’s best to do such exercises in the morning,” he said in a completely calm voice, “the rush of blood into the skull will relieve many people from drowsiness, give them vigor and increase their performance.”

I envied this guy with all my heart: he was probably not familiar with such a phenomenon as migraine. At that same second, as if having overheard my thoughts, the presenter deftly returned to his normal position, sat down in a chair and declared:

“For many years I suffered from terrible headaches. Traditional medicine was of little use, so I began to look for alternative cures. And I found it! First of all, you need a healthy diet. So, the diet for migraines... Works flawlessly, helps everyone.

I grabbed a pen and began frantically writing down recommendations. I was impressed by the dexterity with which the middle-aged man stood up on top of his head and then returned to his normal position. You can't do this trick with bad vessels.

Since then, I began to live according to Dr. Khronov’s system. I won’t say that the path to health is easy, but no one promised me quick results. The television healer also said that his book “The Road to Longevity” was recently published, and it should become a reference book for everyone who wants to reach the century mark with a strong mind, sound memory and good physical shape.

I haven’t gotten hold of this brochure yet, but I’m trying to follow the diet recommended by the doctor. And I’ll tell you what: healthy food is a great thing! First of all, because you will never exceed the calorie allowance, because it is simply impossible to eat a lot of healthy food, it is very tasteless. But life offers us a choice: either cabbage pies, cutlets with a golden brown crust, candy, ice cream, Olivier salad and death on the eve of your fiftieth birthday from atherosclerosis, or dietary restrictions - and at one hundred and twenty years old you will be able to participate in a marathon. I chose the latter, only now the devils are constantly playing tag in my stomach, and today I have to go to the Elephant publishing house. There are a few days left until the New Year, and those who publish my books (let me remind you: I write a detective story under the pseudonym Arina Violova) want to congratulate the author. It will be very inconvenient if, at the moment of receiving gifts, my stomach begins to perform a symphony in A major.

The small pharmacy where I sometimes go to buy cough drops never has any customers, but today, when I was eagerly awaited at Elephant, a line lined up at the counter. True, now there is only one girl left in front of me, but it seems that she simply does not know what she wants.

“Give me phenazepam,” the girl whined.

- Recipe! - the pharmacist demanded.

“No,” sighed the customer.

– This medicine is sold under the signature of a doctor.

- But I really need it!

- See a doctor.

“He won’t go to the registry office,” the girl sniffled. - I'm talking about my fiance. We are getting married soon, and I wanted to give him phenazepam.

The pharmacist, an elderly plump person, looked sternly at the fragile figure in front of the counter and could not resist a reproachful remark:

– Baby, the drug you require is not candy. They don’t accept him just like that, for the sake of entertainment!

“We have registration, and Lesha has literally become crazy,” the girl almost began to cry.

“Many men get nervous before going to the registry office,” the pharmacist thawed out, “buy valerian, an excellent remedy.” If your fiancé is a little inadequate, that's okay.

“Yeah,” the girl said tearfully. “Yesterday he spilled tea on the floor, and then took off his tie and wiped the puddle with it. This is fine?

The couple who wanted to buy condoms laughed out loud, and I left the line and quickly walked to the publishing house. I really don’t like being late, the meeting with the editor is scheduled for noon, and the clock shows already ten minutes past twelve...

About two hours later, I went outside and began packing my small car with a bunch of souvenirs I received from Elephant employees. How many times have I noticed: women are much more inventive than men. Today, representatives of the strong half of the publishing house, all as one, presented the promising author with bouquets and boxes of chocolates, and the sets turned out to be the same, and the suspicion crept into my head that they were bought in bulk at a nearby store. But the women showed their imagination: I received scented candles, perfumed soap, wonderful figurines, and a set of towels. But Anechka Larionova from the PR department distinguished herself the most - she presented me with a charming baby doll, packed in a lace envelope. The toy looked so much like a newborn that I was literally dumbfounded when Nyusha took the bag out of the closet.

– Do you keep the baby among the folders? – I exclaimed in amazement.

Larionova laughed and handed me the “child.”

To be honest, I had absolutely no use for the doll, but I couldn’t tell the truth to Nyusha, who spent both time and money running around shopping. And on Larionova’s table, among the mountains of books, I found a small brochure by Dr. Khronov, “The Road to Longevity,” and I asked for it as an addition to the present.

Darya Dontsova

Snowman's hot love

Healthy food has only one drawback: it is impossible to eat.

My stomach began to make an indecent growl, I quickly pressed my bag to me in the hope that it would slightly muffle the bravura sounds. True, I am in a pharmacy, which means there is no need to be embarrassed by others. Behind me is a couple: a guy and a girl, between them they are barely thirty-five years old, and the guys are quite loudly discussing the merits and demerits of the condoms displayed in the window. I'm probably too old-fashioned, but asking the pharmacist for item No. 2 has always been beyond my strength. I remember that it took me a long time to gather my courage, prepare myself mentally, break out in sweat, and then, blushing, I said to the pharmacist:

- Give me... uh... well... what's it called... citramon!

And it seemed completely incredible to me to go for the most primitive contraceptive in the company of a man, even with my own spouse. And behind my back, the lovers chirped and giggled cheerfully, and I involuntarily found myself privy to their plans for the day: first they would go to the cinema, then to the guy’s house, prudently taking several “rubber bands”, one of which would be in the shape of a bunny. Or Mickey Mouse? Now they were just discussing the shape of the product.

My stomach began to growl again, I shuddered and instantly became angry with myself. Well, what kind of nonsense? Anyone can experience health problems. And, of course, I shouldn’t have eaten just a salad of three types of cabbage for a whole week, washed down with carrot and beet juice. Why did I suddenly switch to a rabbit diet? I’m ashamed to admit, but your humble servant, Mrs. Viola Tarakanova, fell victim to television.

A month ago, I suddenly began to have a severe headache. A trip to the clinic did not clear anything up. The doctor offered to conduct examinations using modern equipment, do tests, hit me with a hammer, forced me to walk with my eyes closed and squat on one leg, and when I successfully passed all the tests, he gave a verdict:

- Healthy as a cow.

No, naturally, he did not say these words. He muttered something about fatigue, about the need for rest and a change of impressions, and then said:

– You don’t have any problems from a medical point of view.

“Wonderful, doctor,” I was delighted. - But what to do with your head?

“It doesn’t hurt you,” modern Hippocrates firmly stated. - It seems to you! Drink valerian, it should help.

I returned home, turned on the TV and, closing one eye, stared at the screen. This means that I am a psychopath, and I instill illnesses in myself. Now my head is in complete order, and the hammer drill working under my skull is simply a figment of my wild imagination. It’s a pity that the aesculapian did not advise anything effective against the runaway fantasy. To distract myself, I focused on the screen, which showed a stocky, bald man of about fifty standing on the top of his head.

“It’s best to do such exercises in the morning,” he said in a completely calm voice, “the rush of blood into the skull will relieve many people from drowsiness, give them vigor and increase their performance.”

I envied this guy with all my heart: he was probably not familiar with such a phenomenon as migraine. At that same second, as if having overheard my thoughts, the presenter deftly returned to his normal position, sat down in a chair and declared:

“For many years I suffered from terrible headaches. Traditional medicine was of little use, so I began to look for alternative cures. And I found it! First of all, you need a healthy diet. So, the diet for migraines... Works flawlessly, helps everyone.

I grabbed a pen and began frantically writing down recommendations. I was impressed by the dexterity with which the middle-aged man stood up on top of his head and then returned to his normal position. You can't do this trick with bad vessels.

Since then, I began to live according to Dr. Khronov’s system. I won’t say that the path to health is easy, but no one promised me quick results. The television healer also said that his book “The Road to Longevity” was recently published, and it should become a reference book for everyone who wants to reach the century mark with a strong mind, sound memory and good physical shape.

I haven’t gotten hold of this brochure yet, but I’m trying to follow the diet recommended by the doctor. And I’ll tell you what: healthy food is a great thing! First of all, because you will never exceed the calorie allowance, because it is simply impossible to eat a lot of healthy food, it is very tasteless. But life offers us a choice: either cabbage pies, cutlets with a golden brown crust, candy, ice cream, Olivier salad and death on the eve of your fiftieth birthday from atherosclerosis, or dietary restrictions - and at one hundred and twenty years old you will be able to participate in a marathon. I chose the latter, only now the devils are constantly playing tag in my stomach, and today I have to go to the Elephant publishing house. There are a few days left until the New Year, and those who publish my books (let me remind you: I write a detective story under the pseudonym Arina Violova) want to congratulate the author. It will be very inconvenient if, at the moment of receiving gifts, my stomach begins to perform a symphony in A major.

The small pharmacy where I sometimes go to buy cough drops never has any customers, but today, when I was eagerly awaited at Elephant, a line lined up at the counter. True, now there is only one girl left in front of me, but it seems that she simply does not know what she wants.

“Give me phenazepam,” the girl whined.

- Recipe! - the pharmacist demanded.

“No,” sighed the customer.

– This medicine is sold under the signature of a doctor.

- But I really need it!

- See a doctor.

“He won’t go to the registry office,” the girl sniffled. - I'm talking about my fiance. We are getting married soon, and I wanted to give him phenazepam.

The pharmacist, an elderly plump person, looked sternly at the fragile figure in front of the counter and could not resist a reproachful remark:

– Baby, the drug you require is not candy. They don’t accept him just like that, for the sake of entertainment!

“We have registration, and Lesha has literally become crazy,” the girl almost began to cry.

“Many men get nervous before going to the registry office,” the pharmacist thawed out, “buy valerian, an excellent remedy.” If your fiancé is a little inadequate, that's okay.

“Yeah,” the girl said tearfully. “Yesterday he spilled tea on the floor, and then took off his tie and wiped the puddle with it. This is fine?

The couple who wanted to buy condoms laughed out loud, and I left the line and quickly walked to the publishing house. I really don’t like being late, the meeting with the editor is scheduled for noon, and the clock shows already ten minutes past twelve...

About two hours later, I went outside and began packing my small car with a bunch of souvenirs I received from Elephant employees. How many times have I noticed: women are much more inventive than men. Today, representatives of the strong half of the publishing house, all as one, presented the promising author with bouquets and boxes of chocolates, and the sets turned out to be the same, and the suspicion crept into my head that they were bought in bulk at a nearby store. But the women showed their imagination: I received scented candles, perfumed soap, wonderful figurines, and a set of towels. But Anechka Larionova from the PR department distinguished herself the most - she presented me with a charming baby doll, packed in a lace envelope. The toy looked so much like a newborn that I was literally dumbfounded when Nyusha took the bag out of the closet.

– Do you keep the baby among the folders? – I exclaimed in amazement.

Larionova laughed and handed me the “child.”

To be honest, I had absolutely no use for the doll, but I couldn’t tell the truth to Nyusha, who spent both time and money running around shopping. And on Larionova’s table, among the mountains of books, I found a small brochure by Dr. Khronov, “The Road to Longevity,” and I asked for it as an addition to the present.

Very pleased with the start of the day, I sat behind the wheel and sharply pressed the gas. The car rushed forward, and a second later a woman’s squeal was heard from the right:

- Oh, mommy!

I braked, looked out the side window and jumped out of the car. A woman in a beige coat stood on the sidewalk. Or rather, the clothes were like this a couple of seconds ago, but now they were decorated with dark spots. This year’s winter has been slushy, every now and then it begins to snow, which turns into nasty rain, and I didn’t notice a rather deep puddle, drove into it and doused an unfortunate passerby with dirty water.

- Excuse me, please! – I began to wail, rushing to the victim. - It was an accident! I didn't mean to get you dirty!

“I understand,” the stranger answered sadly. She took a paper handkerchief out of her bag, tried to wipe off the largest stain that appeared right on her chest, and stated: “It’s gotten even worse.”

Snowman's hot love Darya Dontsova

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Title: Snowman's Hot Love

About the book “The Ardent Love of a Snowman” Daria Dontsova

We made it!!! My own ex-husband asks to investigate the crime for him! Okay, I'll help Oleg! Moreover, I myself am interested in finding out who killed my new friend, and also my double namesake, Viola Tarakanova. But upon closer inspection, it turned out to be not at all what it seemed. And a terrible liar too! I literally wove three boxes for everyone. What secrets are hidden in her life? And what does the unknown country of Mongoto have to do with it? It’s a very difficult task, and I’m constantly getting in the way of couriers from different offices - either they’ll deliver a funeral wreath as a New Year’s gift, or completely inedible food... And the journalists even buried the writer Viola Tarakanova!

On our website about books lifeinbooks.net you can download for free without registration or read online book“The Ardent Love of a Snowman” by Daria Dontsova in epub, fb2, txt, rtf, pdf formats for iPad, iPhone, Android and Kindle. The book will give you a lot of pleasant moments and real pleasure from reading. Buy full version you can from our partner. Also, here you will find the latest news from the literary world, learn the biography of your favorite authors. For beginning writers there is a separate section with useful tips and recommendations, interesting articles, thanks to which you yourself can try your hand at literary crafts.

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