Danny Osipenko "Miranda Sparks’ wonderful life"

Miranda Sparks’ wonderful life
Danny Osipenko

This book is about a girl, Miranda, who persists in pursuing her dream, despite all the difficulties that arise on her path.

Miranda Sparks’ wonderful life

Danny Osipenko

© Danny Osipenko, 2022

ISBNВ 978-5-0056-1725-5

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

ChapterВ 1

«My name is, Miranda Spikes. I am 25 years old. Okay, place of residence:…»

– Excuse me!?

The lady inВ the grayish, knitted dress, tore her head away from the book and looked atВ me.

– Yes, ma’am?

– In the column «Residence», should I indicate where I currently live or where my ancestors live?

– Okay, let’s see. – I gave her the bank. – Where you currently live, that address, write it down.

– That’s great. Thank you.

The lady smiled and went back toВ her book.

«Well, let’s see…»

«Residence: 90/38 46th Street, Ottawa, Ontario. What’s next? Place of work: ARTNOVA Design Studio».

– Um…» The lady looked up again. – I’m sorry again, but why would I write on your form what I do for a living?

– This is so we can order professional literature for you later, ma’am.

– Oh, I see. Although…

– Ma’am, write what you think is necessary. This is only a survey, no one will use your data for greedy purposes.

– I don’t doubt it.

Half an hour later, IВ ran into the library, on the corner ofВ 10th Street and Maria Blu-Sae Avenue. Its building resembled the local cafГ©, with large glass windows and colorful marketing posters about events and courses inВ foreign languages. For me personally, the library is aВ bookish place. And books are unique inВ my life.

For the last couple of years, I’ve devoted myself to the majestic mission of reading 100 books on various topics. Whether it’s even a hard science book or a dystopian novel by a little-known creator. Reading for me, quite an entertaining process. If the book is boring and not fascinating, then I can read it for weeks, if not months. If a book kept me in suspense from beginning to end and never ceased to amaze me, I would swallow it in a few hours.

In two years I read only eighteen books, for which I didn’t spend a cent, thanks to the library. I didn’t have a specially prepared list, but still, from time to time I kept an account of what I had already read, in my own notebook.

Now IВ picked up the novel Nine Monkeys, byВ Paul Rivers. IВ just walked over toВ the rack ofВ books, and when IВ got toВ the middle ofВ them, IВ pulled one ofВ them out. Anyway, naturally, IВ directed my attention toВ it, just because ofВ the attractive blue cover. When IВ read the title ofВ the book, which had monkeys under it, IВ realized that IВ might have toВ renew it at the library, and more than once.

Before I checked out the book, the librarian handed me a questionnaire, which I was now filling out with particular care. I spent a good few10 minutes on it, though there were only5 a few questions in the questionnaire. I got hung up on the fourth one, which asked, «What kind of books do you like? This was a difficult question for me, because I could not impartially assess what I had read. Well, I didn’t choose books by preference, either. So, I entered the last book of poems by Mike Lewis that I read, gave the questionnaire to the lady in the knitted dress, and took a book with monkeys, and left the library.

It was February, but the sun was shining so brightly that it felt like spring had arrived. IВ glanced at the watch IВ wore on my right hand, and walked briskly toward the subway station. It was seven past four, which meant that IВ still had two hours left inВ my supply before the whale show, which IВ meant toВ watch after buying some popcorn.

The subway ride from the library toВ my house was only minutes20, and IВ had toВ walk another minute5. From time toВ time IВ stopped at Starbucks toВ buy my own favorite cinnamon latte with aВ puff ofВ cinnamon creamer. It took me an extra seven minutes toВ get home. And so it was every weekend.

IВ decided toВ skip the coffee now, and headed straight home. IВ was living inВ aВ high-rise, on the fourth floor, inВ aВ two-room apartment with one bathroom and aВ studio kitchen, together with my friend, Miranda Morgan. At this moment, she was not at home, as she went toВ shoot inВ Australia, and will stay there for at least aВ week. ByВ the way, Miranda is not aВ model, but aВ photographer, and quite famous.

– Miss Spikes, there’s a letter for you. – Frank-the concierge at our building-stopped me when I opened the front door and strode briskly to the elevator.

– Me? I walked over to Frank. – Thank you.

– What are you reading now?

IВ tucked the letter into the inside pocket ofВ my bag and turned the book inВ my hand and looked at theВ man.

– Roman.

– Fascinating? It looks like a children’s book.

– Maybe. I just got it from the library, so I don’t know if it’s exciting or not yet. Thanks again for the letter, Frank.

The man nodded back at me, and IВ stepped into the elevator.

Aunt Jo called me just as IВ took off my cherry-colored wool coat and hung it up inВ the hallway.

– Yes?

– Hello, Violet! – My aunt had the soft, purring voice I’d grown to adore.

– Hello, Auntie.

– I finally got through to you. You’re not ignoring me, are you?

– No, you don’t!

– When loved ones avoid communicating with their relatives, it is very bad.

IВ went toВ the refrigerator and took out aВ bottle ofВ water and took aВ bigВ sip.

– Uh-huh.

– Yesterday I sent you an invitation to the fundraiser. You got it, didn’t you?

– Just now.

My current viewing ofВ the white whale show flewВ by.

– That’s good. Then I’ll tell your daddy you’re coming. And keep in mind, honey, if you don’t show up, it might upset someone. And we don’t want that, do we? Do we?

– I figured you out.

– I’m sure that’s exactly what it is. See you soon, then.

– Uh-huh.

After talking to Aunt Jo, I ate a cheese sandwich and drank a glass of milk. I didn’t like cooking or cleaning, but every once in a while, I made an exception, like yesterday. It was a nice feeling to wake up in the afternoon and walk into the living room and see the clean dishes in the kitchen and things neatly in their own places, not lying on the floor or the couch, as they usually did when I worked.

My father helped me toВ buy this apartment, although IВ gave the bulk ofВ the money for it myself. IВ have aВ well-paid job, so IВ managed toВ save some money, but unfortunately, it was not enough toВ buy the apartment. At that time it was ashamed toВ ask my father for money and it seemed toВ me that the apartment was not worth the effort. But at this point, after living here for almost four years, IВ thought my modest apartment was almost heaven on earth.

Later, after a while, Miranda came to live with me. We’d been friends since high school, so when she was in trouble, specifically without a roof over her head and without a job, I offered to let her stay with me. Since then, we have been living together. I didn’t give her my bedroom and put her in the living room. Although in reality, I still lived alone, since Sue was always on the road because of her work.

At one time, when my friend was dating a mannequin, I had to stay in my father’s apartment, so there wouldn’t be any terribly uncomfortable moments. One day, I came home early from work and found the couple making love on the table. After that, I probably couldn’t eat at the table or look my friend in the eye for a month or so, much less Miranda.

I didn’t bring enough people over myself, because I liked to be alone from time to time. And I didn’t have enough friends to invite them all here.

As for the apartment itself, it could be described as «small, moderate, but cozy. It was small because all three of its rooms were twelve squares each, because of which I was constantly hitting something, just passing from one room to another. What made the apartment moderate was the missing interior details and the ancient, shabby furniture that Miranda and I had bought at a local yard sale. For the sofa, upholstered in natural wool and sea wave color, my girlfriend and I went all the way to the suburbs, splurging on a cab just to see it. And then we had to pay for its delivery. But this sofa, perfectly fit into the living room, along with the walls, painted in paint with a gray-silver color. About the blue kitchen set, Miranda and I had a separate story. We had to take it in pieces because at the time we didn’t have the money to buy it all at once. We had to deny ourselves almost everything for the sake of one more chair or plate.

But we did have a big dining table, by the French designer Jacques-Emile Ruhlmann, which I had brought from my father’s house. It was the table where, later on, my friend and the mannequin man had sex.

Also, Aunt Jo did not stand aside, she gave me for the housewarming party, aВ large closet made ofВ reddish wood, which at the moment stands inВ my room, right inВ front ofВ the window.

And Miranda brought into our apartment, beautiful curtains with thin gold braid stitched at the bottom, and aВ coffee table, on which, food stands more often than on the dining room table. Well, you can see whyВ now!

But our apartment was cozy only because every time the sun rose – and we lived on the sunny side – there was a pleasant feeling of light and warmth. And those who visited us said how much they liked our apartment, precisely because it was so sunny and bright.

My good friend from college, Bill Riley, helped me choose the neighborhood and the place. He was the only person IВ knew who worked as aВ realtor. So who else could IВ turn toВ butВ him?

InВ general, my idea toВ move out ofВ the luxury house, into aВ separate two-room apartment, many relatives and acquaintances, perceived as aВ joke. And afterwards they said that IВ was insane and that IВ would not last forever. Now, only from time toВ time, someone, well, inВ passing, mentioned my action. Though, remembering my past shenanigans, aВ lot ofВ people were happy about that change.

Because at this point, IВ was living aВ quiet and measured life, and there was no one toВ agonize over it. Amen!

ChapterВ 2

The first time IВ ran away from home was when IВ was fifteen.

It wasn’t exactly an escape, just a trip with friends, for a few days to the lake. We agreed not to say anything to our forefathers, so they would worry and all that. It’s not uncommon that after that, I got the first number from my parents. My mother later wept and cried over me for a long time, and my father called the parents of the other kids to keep it quiet.

My high school years, inВ fact, were the wildest and most reckless. Back then IВ thought it was cool toВ smoke aВ pack ofВ cigarettes aВ day and run out my bedroom window at night toВ go out with Bobby Miller.

IВ also loved toВ embarrass people with my actions or words. For example, IВ called my history teacher aВ В«complete imbecileВ» during class and threw aВ notebook at him as IВ left the room.

At one time there was aВ video that IВ shot on my phone ofВ aВ music teacher making out with aВ British teacher. IВ even posted flyers about it all over the school. Later, when it turned out that IВ had done it, it was hushed up, because my father sponsored both the school and the basketball team. My dad was always covering my ass for all sorts ofВ things.

As for the appearance, here IВ was generally inventive.

At fifteen, IВ dressed like aВ young puttana: short skirts, high-heeled shoes, and fishnet tights. IВ wore very bright colors, liked piercings, and changed my hair color with constant frequency. ByВ the way, there was one harsh case, because ofВ which IВ was almost expelled from school. Even though my father sorted it out, IВ was still later shunned and even feared.

The thing is, I set Margaret Wilson’s hair on fire in chemistry class because she was spreading nasty gossip about me. She ended up being taken to the clinic with minor first-degree burns.

ToВ say that my father was furious at the time is not toВ say anything. IВ was suspended from school for aВ month and not allowed out ofВ the house. Even just going out for aВ walk around the house was forbidden. After that incident, IВ was routinely pointed at and looked at with judgmental eyes byВ everyone inВ town.

And later my mother became ill. My father came home less and less often. And IВ turned into the quiet one. Bobby and IВ broke up aВ year before graduation, and that was when IВ quit smoking and stopped being so provocative. IВ took off all the earrings on my own body and started dressing more modestly, discarding the short skirts and replacing them with sports tights and sweatshirts.