An almost real story by Christina. A summer love story

© Christina Zaldivar Erickson, 2021

ISBN 978-5-0053-6515-6

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Summer was paying off the last respects and it was enchanting by the end of August. The number of tourists was getting smaller and smaller. The local dialect was sounding more and more often on the beach. The further away, the greater the difference. On the Baltic coast there were two types of beaches – the family ones and the ladies ones. I had no luck with my family. It turned out that all men were either too young, or too old, or married.

I spent about two hours a day at the sea. That left me very little time. I had to work after I had passed the university entrance exams. The university education had to be paid for. I have been studying law here. For what? I hardly believe that I really want this. There is no work and never will be. And even if I get a position of a lawyer, I will earn less than a taxi driver. Despite this, I study, work and cry.

I work for one sweet company. I drive my small cargo Mercedes to transport about two tons of chocolate. I deliver it all over the coast. This year, at Christmas, I will reach my millionth kilometer. The millionth one! When will I measure my happiness with kilometers?

The one who travels a lot must be able to occupy himself mentally. In my blonde head there are a lot of different thoughts – light and dark, funny, practical and awkward. Therefore, I have to organize my brain scrupulously. At first, the most uncomfortable thoughts about money and about my disgusting loneliness are thrown out of my head. Otherwise, it is impossible not only to travel quietly, but also to live. I provide insight into the practical sentiments and I finally leave only the most pleasant ones. Like everyone else I have something pleasant that I would like to dream about for hours.

This is actually a man. I cannot call him a friend yet – we have never met in person. But we were virtual acquaintances. Yes, we had met on-line on the internet. After that, he sent me emails and short messages on his mobile phone. I haven’t received his photo yet, but I know that he is from Scotland, and I imagine him with a checkered kilt and long hair. His name also sounds unusually – «McGregor». Is it something related to the history? Why do I deceive myself? I’ve had a crush on this guy. That’s about all. All my problems are because of my characters, the main traits of which are indestructible gullibility, absent-mindedness and clumsiness. All because of them… This time it was like this…