The barber was on the opposite side of the street and was open from 7 in the morning.
I went straight to him after spending night at her place, sat down on the chair and let him take care of me.
'You rarely come nowadays,' said Anatol, the owner.
'It's becasue my hair fell out from work,' I replied. Anatol started preparing the tools and turned the radio on. The folklore music which I hated sounded from the old wooden radio.
'Any surprising turnovers in the case?' Anatol, like a good barber started the conversation and went straight to the core of it.
'I was expecting you tell me something since I came here and you don't have anything to cut on my head,' I looked at Anatol whose reflection I could see in the mirror.
'Then we can finally shave that beard of yours.' Anatol put some cream on my beard and neck and started to sharpen the metal razor.
'People are not very calm these days,' he continued.
'No, really?' I mocked him.
'Not to say they are very disturbed by these child murders.'
'Tell me something I don't know'.
'People keep talking and talking, wondering about the possible murderer.'
"Can it be my boss?' I kept mocking Anatol while he started to shave my beard with the sharp razor.
'There are many thugs who could kill for a bunch of pocketmoney. There are several suspects, however, who could kill with such an elegance...'.
'What do you know?'
'Do you remember my brother?'
'I do.'
'Will you help him out of the troubles?'
'He's a trotzki. It will be hard... but not that hard once I got the murderer.'
Anatol pondered for a while and continued talking.
'A few days ago there came a petty thief, you know the one who usually hasn't gotten to a fortune and never will but has daily money from stealing or robbing old grandmas. That disgusting pezzo di novanta started to boast how lucky he was not to have robbed a peculiar person. The youngster almost thank God for that, as if he had omitted death.'
'And...'
'He recognized the guy as the old school assassin who returned to the city for bounty killings. It must have been the legend and I can only presume it was...'
'Ded Moroz?'
Anatol stood still as if old memories came back to him.
'The thief didn't tell the name but from his description it must have been Ded Moroz.'
'Did he tell you where he saw Diedushka?'
'No, but I know where that pezzo di novanta usually meets with his son-of-a-bitch-colleagues.' Anatol was using Biely Jelen after shave on my freshly shaven beard.
'Good. Now, where we can find that pezzo di novanta?' I asked slowly standing up from the chair also starting to remember the cruelty of the so called Ded Moroz.
picture was taken from:
http://brzoza77.deviantart.com/art/Ded-Moroz-190902149
I went straight to him after spending night at her place, sat down on the chair and let him take care of me.
'You rarely come nowadays,' said Anatol, the owner.
'It's becasue my hair fell out from work,' I replied. Anatol started preparing the tools and turned the radio on. The folklore music which I hated sounded from the old wooden radio.
'Any surprising turnovers in the case?' Anatol, like a good barber started the conversation and went straight to the core of it.
'I was expecting you tell me something since I came here and you don't have anything to cut on my head,' I looked at Anatol whose reflection I could see in the mirror.
'Then we can finally shave that beard of yours.' Anatol put some cream on my beard and neck and started to sharpen the metal razor.
'People are not very calm these days,' he continued.
'No, really?' I mocked him.
'Not to say they are very disturbed by these child murders.'
'Tell me something I don't know'.
'People keep talking and talking, wondering about the possible murderer.'
"Can it be my boss?' I kept mocking Anatol while he started to shave my beard with the sharp razor.
'There are many thugs who could kill for a bunch of pocketmoney. There are several suspects, however, who could kill with such an elegance...'.
'What do you know?'
'Do you remember my brother?'
'I do.'
'Will you help him out of the troubles?'
'He's a trotzki. It will be hard... but not that hard once I got the murderer.'
Anatol pondered for a while and continued talking.
'A few days ago there came a petty thief, you know the one who usually hasn't gotten to a fortune and never will but has daily money from stealing or robbing old grandmas. That disgusting pezzo di novanta started to boast how lucky he was not to have robbed a peculiar person. The youngster almost thank God for that, as if he had omitted death.'
'And...'
'He recognized the guy as the old school assassin who returned to the city for bounty killings. It must have been the legend and I can only presume it was...'
'Ded Moroz?'
Anatol stood still as if old memories came back to him.
'The thief didn't tell the name but from his description it must have been Ded Moroz.'
'Did he tell you where he saw Diedushka?'
'No, but I know where that pezzo di novanta usually meets with his son-of-a-bitch-colleagues.' Anatol was using Biely Jelen after shave on my freshly shaven beard.
'Good. Now, where we can find that pezzo di novanta?' I asked slowly standing up from the chair also starting to remember the cruelty of the so called Ded Moroz.
http://brzoza77.deviantart.com/art/Ded-Moroz-190902149
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