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This was my last skirt.
As I fell, I rested my hands on the floor and now my hands were elbows brown in a stinky slush.
Dropping bitter tears, I hastily washed them with lemonade and took off my skirt.
Hopelessly! I tried to wet it with lemonade and rub it.
The feces only absorbed more strongly into the tissue.
From white skirt became dirty brown.
I had to return home in shorts with a piece of undershirt sticking out of the vagina.
I decided not to return to my car.
I decided to go to the next one, where no one knows me, to fall at the feet of a conductor and ask for help.
Opening the door, flashing my cowards, I rushed into the next car.
What a blessing, the next carriage was a compartment car, people, and oh my god, an open toilet.
I fluttered into it and closed the door.
There was no water here either.
But the dried remnant was lying around.
Exhausted, I began to pour lemonade on my skirt and rub it with soap.
Two hours passed.
I just knocked to the toilet a couple of times, but I was silent like a fish, washing my fingers into my blood, scrubbing my last cover.
Three times I had to be distracted, clinging to the toilet and sending the remains of the ill-starred pies into oblivion.
Two hours later, I came out of the closet in a mint, wet through, but less clean skirt.
I spent the rest of the day standing in the hallway, looking out the window, remembering and re-experiencing all the humiliations through which I had to go for

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this long day.
Late at night, I went back to sneaking into my car and went to bed.
My soul was warmed by the thought that in the morning my station, where I was to transfer to the train to the house.

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At five o’clock in the morning I stood at the train station shaking from the cool breeze.
The morning was sunny, the mood was upbeat, all yesterday seemed like a terrible dream.
I rushed to the toilet.
“Closed for repair” – from the inscription on the toilet door I was breathed yesterday horror.
I do not care, I am now not locked in a stuffy car can.
At the station square there are a dozen two commercial stalls.
As sellers from hibernation, I bought all the things I needed.
A couple of packs of gaskets, heels of panties and t-shirts, jeans and two large bottles of mineral water.
While swimming, I noticed abundant thickets of bushes away from the station, where I sent my feet.
Having got through the bushes, I found a small, unspared meadow and looked around.
It was quiet.
The city was still asleep and there was almost no one at the station.
I began to undress, when suddenly the crash of the bushes behind me made me freeze in place.
Hi – I heard a hoarse voice and looked back.
A girl of about eighteen was staring at me.
She was terribly dirty, her hair was tousled, and there was a huge bruise under her eye.
The indefinite color is torn shirt and skirt, in some suspicious spots.
Will not smoke? – stepping dirty barefoot, she came to me.
Her decently rocked.
Already about three meters I smelled the suffocating smell of fume.
I do not smoke – I said.
Huevo – said the girl and squatted, showing me a complete lack of underwear.
She was sick.
She would have groaned and suddenly farted loudly.
That bitch, again they tore the whole ass – without any connection, she began to tell me that she works as a cleaner at the station and fucking everyone who is not lazy, and the movers sell her to passengers in the men’s room.
Just do not give money, you bastards – finished the girl and spat.
Do not give the top ten? she suddenly asked hopefully.
Rare scum – I thought, and already wanted to send it to hell, when suddenly a crazy thought crept into my head.
Well, get up, I asked.
The little girl staggered up.
I looked at her carefully again.
Her legs, though terribly dirty and scratched, nevertheless were very beautiful forms.
Strong calves and thighs, wide hips, thin waist.
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