Such different students, technicians of the Liap. 9. Vilaine. Triglycerol

Vilaine.

Yes, that is the name invented by the parents of the Gir in honor of the leader of the proletarians. But an amazing, perhaps better than any other in our student group of the Leningrad Institute of aviation he distinguished dirty faces the realities of socialism and was not afraid to say it out loud.

Success in school it was not much, probably, did not wanted, but nonetheless in front of him it was hard not to instinctively bow down: he was clearly intelligent, purebred, very beautiful man, imposing, noble, quirky, and ambitious. It seems that these qualities were inherited by them in one package with extraordinary West Slavic surname. It could wait noble impulses and deeds, and he did the same, ignoring the mundane Soviet reality.

Communicate with classmates do not appreciate. For example, it was stupid to even try to invite him to the Saturday commuter student campaign. We knew that he had only one landmark, the Shrine and the meaning of life – his legal wife. He’s always in a hurry only to her, did things for her, and to interest him in something outside of genocentrism was impossible. Never seen a more devoted and sacrificial husband. Hero!

When it turned out that the wife is inclined to scientific work, it is necessary to defend the thesis, she developed elevated intellectual questions and no less intelligent friends, he meekly began to do all household chores. All the forces sent to the debugging and improvement of his comfortable family home.

I can not say why, but his professional work, in the end, he chose associated with periodic as long as possible, risky for the life long heroic research trips.

They were a long time. Only a half dozen years first child was born. But it was the limit. The Vilaine, to the surprise of his wife and all his friends, then ran off for another woman, leaving all their belongings fully, the apartment, the child and the unresolved mystery about male perfidy. Mired with his new love, in a desperate homeless poverty, and its already a very Mature age “…many of the ills he endured, but his life was a crazy song of roses!”. Hero!

Then quietly disappeared from our horizon.

www.proza.ru/2010/01/09/225

How would he find today?

© 2020, paradox. All rights reserved.