Mysterious meeting of two Vladimirs on Nikolskaya

One gloomy and rainy day, when the sky above Moscow was covered with leaden clouds, and raindrops pounded the pavements like little drummers, Vladimir Gilyarovsky went to Nikolskaya Street. His path lay to the bar, where he hoped to find inspiration or, perhaps, to forget his troubles.

This bar on Nikolskaya Street was known for its warm walls and cold reception. Inside, there was always an atmosphere of mystery and anticipation of something unusual. Here, you could hear old Muscovites gossiping about acquaintances and strangers, and sometimes even about themselves.

Entering the establishment, Vladimir took off his wet hat and looked around. People were sitting at the tables, each one deep in their own thoughts, each one with a secret they were in no hurry to reveal. In the center of the room, by the fireplace, sat a man whose face was hidden in shadow, but whose silhouette seemed familiar.

Coming closer, Gilyarovsky recognized him - it was none other than Vladimir Gilyarovsky. Their eyes met, and at that moment it became clear that this meeting was inevitable.

“Well, brother,” said Gilyarovsky, “are you really looking for oblivion here?”

- Oblivion? - his interlocutor asked again. - No, I am looking for the truth. But, apparently, it is slipping away from me, like sand through my fingers.

"What if the truth is that it doesn't exist?" Gilyarovsky asked, raising his glass. "Maybe it's hidden in the words we're afraid to say?"

They sat, deep in conversation, which resembled a game of chess, where every move was carefully thought out and every word had meaning. The rain was falling next to them, and the bar was getting warmer and cozier.

Suddenly a gust of wind blew through the doors and new visitors entered the room. They brought with them noise and chaos, like a storm breaking out in the middle of a calm sea. Their conversation was laced with crude curses, but they did not disturb the harmony of the evening, but only emphasized it.

Gilyarovsky looked at his interlocutor and smiled.

"It seems that this is our truth," he said. "It is in these words that we speak without thinking, in this life where everything is so mixed up that we no longer know where the truth is and where the lie is."

Vladimir nodded in agreement and raised his glass again, as if to signify that they had found what they were looking for.

Thus, in a tavern on Nikolskaya Street, two Vladimirs, two seekers of truth and oblivion, found their own understanding of the world, in which swearing and foul language became part of the great symphony of life.

***

Of course, this is a joke, and there is no real basis for this story - just a little imagination and for the sake of a smile! And if you are interested in real facts and events, we invite you to the excursions of the "Radius" bureau, where real history comes to life!