An Ordinary Extraordinary Day
Krestyan Nikolaievich is a rather odd spectacle. He is a man living in the heart of St. Petersburg, who is concerned and buried in only his work. He is a man without love.
On a rather ordinary morning on Malaya Sadovaya Street, Krestyan Nikolaievich appeared from his ordinary house, and began his walk to his ordinary job. He has never been one of great stature or status. Yet why would he be? He is merely a banker with no prospects for the future. But on this ordinary morning, he had received a letter from his old acquaintance Vasiliy Vasilievich. The contents of this letter happened to contain an invitation to a masquerade ball celebrating his promotion in the Tsar’s cabinet. It did not mention what the promotion was nor did it interest Krestyan Nikolaievich. He had decided to take the day off in order to prepare for such a magnificent event. The ball is to be held at the Tsar's winter palace. Krestyan Nikolaievich had received a great wave of confidence with this invitation and instantaneously had gone to his tailor to receive his newly fashioned 3 piece suit. It contained a white shirt, black vest, and a black coat. For an accessory he had brought his gold pocket watch, which many times Krestyan Nikolaievich used as a token for luck. He had left the tailor’s shop in his new attire. Krestyan Nikolaievich went into the shop as an ordinary man, and left as a dashing young gentleman who looked the part of someone who belonged in the Winter Palace.
As the night drew closer, Krestyan Nikolaievich had forgotten one important thing. And that happened to be the mask. When the realization hit, he charged out of his small apartment on Malaya Sadovaya Street and decided to walk back to the tailor, to purchase a mask. He was quite low on time so his decision required him to be swift, which is something Krestyan Nikolaievich had a negative reputation for. Astonishingly, he chose incredibly quickly. The mask that he fancied was made of wood, painted in ebony, but what stood out most of all, was that it did not at all. There was no special design, no lacing, no feathers. It was a simple yet elegant mask. But this should come as no surprise considering the type of man Krestyan Nikolaievich was.
As Krestyan Nikolaievich was waiting for the carriage he had ordered earlier in that day, he began reciting exactly what he planned to do in order to appear as proper as possible.
“I shall arrive exactly on time, no later than 9 pm. I shall say hello to Vasiliy Vasilievich and bid him a good evening. Make good and proper conversation to acquaint myself with the nobles who shall be there. Avoid the dances. And most of all, I shall enjoy myself,” said Krestyan Nikolaievich very softly while looking out the window, watching the empty street. Approximately 5 minutes later the Carriage had arrived outside Krestyan Nikolaievich’s apartment. He proceeded to grab his gold pocket watch and mask directly before exiting his home. He turned around to look at the pale bricks and black door of the place he called home. He looked to his cat, Kolya, who was looking at Krestyan Nikolaievich from his first story window. He nodded his cat goodbye and entered the carriage. It was nothing extravagant. A simple black carriage with a red interior being pulled by two steeds.
Upon Krestyan Nikolaievich’s arrival, he had noticed all of the beautiful and extravagant carriages being pulled into the winter palace's main square. Women were dressed in their elegant polonaise dresses and incredibly complex masks, many of which our hero has never seen before. The men were mainly dressed in astonishingly beautiful and expensive suits. The massive fur overcoats in the cold russian winter added to the costly look. Something Krestyan Nikolaievich could not have related to, as he did not have the wealth for such showmanship.
Krestyan Nikolaievich had arrived at the main gate and presented his invitation to the guard. Our hero was in awe of the beauty surrounding him. The beautiful green walls and white pillars of the building towered over Krestyan Nikolaievich. He stood for a minute admiring the craftsmanship in front of him, as he had never seen something so beautiful before.
He began to wonder to himself, “Will I ever be able to go back to my home after such an incredible evening?”
Krestyan Nikolaievich concluded that no matter the despair and longing of a life such as Vasiliy Vasilievich has, he shall gladly go back to his ordinary job as a banker, and continue to live his ordinary life.
At this time, Krestyan Nikolaievich had entered the main gallery and was overcome with the beauty of it. The white marble stairs, the red carpet, the golden chandelier, and hints of gold around the white walls were even more amazing than what our hero had expected. And atop those stairs was the man who is to thank for such a wonderful experience, Vasiliy Vasilievich. Krestyan Nikolaievich decided that it was a perfect time to thank his acquaintance for the invitation as he was simply watching all the parties enter the gates.
“Greetings old friend, how do you find yourself doing this evening,” Krestyan Nikolaievich asked.
“Krestyan! It’s wonderful to see you again! Thank you for coming. I am well, how about yourself?” Vasiliy Vasilievich said, greeting his old companion with a warm handshake.
“I am well Vasiliy, clearly out of company here,” Said Krestyan Nikolaievich very scarcely.
“If you are out of company my friend, then so am I. All these audacious ladies and lords only care about wealth and how they are perceived in the company of powerful people. I invited you because your intentions are clear. You don't push any agenda, you enjoy life for what it is. I dislike talking about work when I am taking time off, yet these people no longer can separate life from work. Do you understand Krestyan?”
“I believe I do. But if you dislike them as much as you seem to, why invite them to such a major occasion?”
“That is a mystery I can not solve myself. Now excuse me, I must retire to the ballroom. I hope you enjoy the evening my friend, it was good to see you”
Vasiliy Vasilievich turned and left down the corridor. And at this moment, something caught Krestyan Nikolaievich’s eye. And this thing was the most beautiful piece of artwork he has ever seen. Her name was Sofia Ilyinichna. Her fair skin glistened in the cold night. Her wavy hair in the wind conveyed the serenity of the ocean. She walked elegantly as a ballerina walked onto the bright lights of the stage. An unfamiliar feeling had befallen Krestyan Nikolaievich, that feeling was love. He noticed she had entered the gallery alone, which brought incredible relief to Krestyan. He may not know what love is or anything of the sort. But one thing was certain, he needed to speak to her.
The clock struck 10 and everyone had migrated to the ballroom to begin the first waltz. The tables were filled with people of great wealth and status. The room was filled with people, yet it was still completely empty. To him, the only person in the room was the girl whom he had fallen so deeply in love with. As people fled to the floor for the dance, he and Sofia were the only people left in the outskirts. Two lonely people clearly longing for love. But some odd force had brought them together at that moment. And our hero goes up to his love saying, “Hello there darling, what are you doing looking so alone?”
“The night is still young, I do not have to be alone forever,” Sofia replied, “how about yourself?”
“I am not very well acquainted with the people here, only Vasiliy Vasilievich, thus I do not have a group to be with,” uttered Krestyan.
“Vasiliy is a good man, but a cunning politician. He is not trustworthy when it comes to his work. As are most of the men and women here,” Sofia responded swiftly.
A minute of silence fell for a moment. At that moment, he noticed how beautifully her blue dress sat on her wonderful body, her curves as gorgeous as a river running through the lush forest. He looked at her eyes through the mask, they were a charming green, reminiscent of two brand new emeralds. Her neck conducted the gold necklace she had on gorgeously, he had frozen at the sight of her beauty. Her perfume smelt of freshly picked roses. Krestyan Nikolaievich had realized, she is all he needs in life, and he must have her.
Throughout this time, Sofia had also taken a fancy to the man standing in front of her. Although he was not in big stature, she found something charming in him. He was ordinary, but that's what she loved. He did not have many facades, nor any in that matter, it was apparent. She had also fallen to love his long flowing blonde hair. Though he was not muscular, he was tall, and she admired that. Although he was ordinary, he was different from the company around him. She had felt herself slowly start falling for him as well.
They had fallen into a conversation discussing an array of topics. Krestyan Nikolaievich had learned that she is from Moscow and lives in Noviy Arbat. And despite the difference in status, they had many similarities. They shared a similar humor, interests in literature, and enjoyed the same activities, though some were different. She had experienced many of the things that our hero desired, such as traveling outside of Russia into Europe. She had told him about her adventures in Florence and Paris while Krestyan Nikolaievich listened keenly. They continued to exchange stories until our hero decided to ask the beautiful women to retire to the garden. He asked Sofia, “Would you like to retire to somewhere more private, such as the garden?”
“I would like to very much, yes,” Sofia replied with a wide smile.
She gave him her hand and he took it, kissed it, as it was good etiquette, and led her to the famed garden. They sat down on the fountain, with the moonlight glistening off the water. Krestyan Nikolaievich had stood up and gone to pick the last remaining rose, it was pink. He had given it to her and she proceeded to put it on her lap while lovingly playing with it. Krestyan had decided to take both of her hands and hold them, saying, “Sophia dear, you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, your body has been sculpted to perfection, your scent is the greatest thing to ever grace my palette. I have but one request, and that is to remove this mask, so I may uncover your true and total beauty.”
She gladly obliged and calmly but slowly reached back to untie the extravagant mask resting on her head. As she slowly took it off, Sofia uncovered her true beauty. She held the face of a goddess. Seeing her face, Krestyan had fallen even deeper in love with this woman. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her fair nose pointed towards the man she was falling in love with.
Sofia asked, “May I take your mask off love?”
Krestyan nodded and smiled.
She reached over and rested her forearms on his shoulders. She took off the mask and put her hand on his cheek. Her touch excited him, her touch was as soft as silk. There was nothing he could find about her that he disliked.
“Would you like to leave this party and come back to my humble home?” asked Krestyan Nikolaievich.
“I would love nothing more my darling,”
They had left the beautiful palace in our hero's carriage. After approximately 10 minutes of conversation, they arrived at his apartment. They entered the door and there stood Kolya the cat, greeting them warmly. She had picked him up and held him. The cat was clearly enjoying himself, purring away without a care in the world. They shared a cup of tea along with a nice and diverse discussion before heading to bed. They got undressed, with Sofia wearing Krestyan Nikolaievich’s bedtime attire, and got into the bed together. At this moment, Krestyan was happy, happy like he had never been before. Although he had only known her for a night, he knew this was the woman he loved. He had his entire world in his arms.
“My love, I may have only met you tonight, but it feels like I have known you for all my life. I have fallen for you, with all I have. My love burns for you as the light and warmth of a star in the cosmos. It shall only stop burning on the day we lay for our eternal slumber.” Krestyan Nikolaievich told Sofia.
“Darling, I do not want to leave you, although I shall go back to Moscow. No matter the distance, we shall never truly be apart.”
The next morning was dreary. Gray clouds came over the city, rain slapped the windows and roads of St. Petersburg. It was the morning that Sofia had to go back to Moscow. He had walked her over to the train station to say their goodbyes for the time being.
“I shall see you once again, perhaps in this life, or the next. But we shall meet again my love. Nothing shall keep us apart. I love you.” Krestyan Nikolaievich told Sofia.
“We shall darling, we will always be together, whether in spirit, or in person. I love you as well. I love you.”
“Goodbye”
The train sped away, but the memories stayed. Thus Krestyan Nikolaievich, our extraordinarily ordinary hero, began his pursuit to find the woman he loves.
Postscript: 5 years later
It is safe to say that everything worked out for the best for our hero and his woman. He ended up finding her in Moscow and their relationship flourished from there. They had gotten married and moved in together in podmoskovye to a nicely furnished cabin. Kolya is alive and well, enjoying his time in the garden. Sofia, who is considerably wealthy, spends much of her time with Krestyan. They are happy, and that shall not change. The ordinary man, and the extraordinary woman.
~Vladislav Bryzgalov