Ïîòðåáèòåëñêè âõîä

Çàïîìíè ìå | Ðåãèñòðàöèÿ
Personal Collection of Personal and Friendly Crtical Path Creations ...
Àâòîð: godlieb Êàòåãîðèÿ: Ëàéôñòàéë
Ïðî÷åòåí: 2380342 Ïîñòèíãè: 1414 Êîìåíòàðè: 659
Ïîñòèíãè â áëîãà îò 01.07.2013 ã.
 

image

 

 

FLOWER WITH ROOTS IN THE HEART OF THE EARTH

 

SHORT-STORY
BY
BOGOMIL KOSSTOFF AVRAMOV ROUSSEFF-HEMY

© 2005 – ADAM B. AVRAMOV, TRANSLATION

 

 

TO SIMEON THE SECOND

 

 

 

EVERY EVENING, RETURNING FROM MY WORKPLACE, I HAD STAYED AT THE CABLE CAR STATION, WITH A HEAD THAT IS ABOUT TO EXPLODE BY THE MENTAL STRAIN. SOMETHING IN MY BRAIN WAS WAILING, SINGING AND DRONING, BUT THROUGH THE LONG WORKDAY I DIDN’T HAVE THE TIME TO GO TO THE DOCTOR. “WHAT FOR”, I SAID TO MYSELF, “IF IT’S BAD, IT’S GOING TO BE REALLY BAD. IF IT’S FOR GOOD, IT WILL PASS AWAY”. BUT, MY HEAD WAS SINGING ITS OWN SONG AND THIS SONG COULD NOT BE KILLED EVEN BY THE DEAFENING SOUND OF THE OVERSIZED CITY, WHERE I HAD UNWILLINGLY LANDED.

 

OFTEN, THE CABLE CAR WAS LATE. AMIDST THE NIGHT COLD OF THE SEMI-LIGHTED STATION, I WAS TAPPING WITH FEET AND, BECAUSE THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE TO DO, LOOKING AT THE BUILDINGS AROUND ME. CONTEMPORARY, DARK AND MODERN, THEY WERE FUTILELY TRYING TO SMILE AT SOMEBODY WITH THEIR REFLECTIVE WINDOWS AND COLORS. ONE EVENING I FOUND OUT THAT IN THE CORNER, NEXT TO THE STATION WAS STANDING, HAPPILY SPARED, A LITTLE TWO-STORY HOUSE WITH PEELING WALLS AND WITH A SMALL COURTYARD FULL OF BOX-SHRUBS.

 

EVERY EVENING NOW I LOOKED AT THE SPARED HOUSE. MY WISH TO CROSS THE SMALL YARD, TO WALK UP THE SEVEN STONE STAIRS AND KNOCK ON THE DOOR, HAD GROWN BIGGER AND BIGGER. BECAUSE EVERY EVENING, UP THERE, ON THE SECOND FLOOR, A WINDOW WAS SHINING WITH REFLECTIONS FROM TELEVISION CHANNELS.

 

IN THE END OF A SAD WINTER DAY, THE CAR WAS DELAYED. UNEXPECTED SNOW HAD FALLEN. KIDS WERE THROWING SNOWBALLS AT EACH OTHER, AND I WAS SITTING ON THE STATION THOUGHTFULLY AS THE STRAIN OF THE WORKDAY WAS ECHOING IN MY HEAD. WHERE ALIEN CONCEPTIONS WERE TRYING TO OVERCOME MY OWN. WHEN THE COLD FROZE MY SOUL, AND AIRPLANES STARTED A COMBAT IN MY HEAD, I TURNED MY BACK TO THE COMING CABLE CAR. I CROSSED THE FROZEN, SNOW-COVERED BOX-SHRUB GARDEN. AND CLIMBED THE ICED STAIRS OF THE HOUSE. UP THERE, ON THE SECOND FLOOR, THE WINDOW STILL WAS MYSTERIOUSLY FLICKERING.

 

I PUSHED THE BUTTON OF THE DOORBELL. FAR, LIKE AMIDST A DEEP CAVE, A BELL RANG. NOBODY APPEARED. I RANG FOR A SECOND, AND FOR A THIRD TIME. NOBODY ANSWERED.

 

I CAREFULLY PUSHED THE DOOR AND IT SUDDENLY OPENED LIKE AN UNSATIABLE MOUTH AND ABSORBED ME. I FOUND IN THE CORRIDOR, UNDER A LIGHT BULB SLEEPING IN A LAMPSHADE OF GLASS FLOWERS, A DRIFT OF FRESH SNOW. MY FOOTSTEPS ECHOED IN THIS UNINHABITED STOMACH. A SPIRAL STAIRCASE TOOK ME UPSTAIRS. I LOVE SPIRAL STAIRCASES. I’M SPIRAL STAIRCASE-MAD. I HAVE DECIDED THAT, WHEN I SOLVE THE PROBLEM OF ALL MINE AND FOREIGN CONCEPTIONS, I WILL START BUILDING VILLAS. WITH TWO BARE HANDS AND A PLACE GIVEN AS A GIFT FROM THE STATE, WITH BRICKS AND TILES FROM OLD CONSTRUCTION SITES, WITH BROKEN WINDOW-FRAMES FROM HOUSES UNNEEDED BY ANYONE, I BELIEVE THAT I WILL SUCCEED. I CAN EASILY CONSTRUCT. AND EVEN EASIER DEMOLISH.

 

THE STAIRS APPEARED ENDLESS TO ME. THE SOUND OF THE TELEVISION BECAME LOUDER THOUGH, AND THAT GAVE ME HOPE. THIS HOUSE CAN’T BE THIS DARK IF A TV IS SINGING IN IT. THE STAIRCASE TOOK ME TO AN ENORMOUS LIVING ROOM, AMIDST WHICH I FOUND A SNOW-WHITE BED. ON IT LAY A WOMAN SO FAMILIAR, I GREETED HER. SHE NODDED. WHERE HAD I MET HER? IN THIS ILLUSORY WORLD NOBODY CAN BE SURE. DO THEY KNOW SOMEBODY - OR DO THEY NOT.

 

THE WOMAN WAS NEITHER YOUNG NOR OLD. ABOUT MY AGE. NEITHER SICK NOR HEALTHY. SHE WASN’T UGLY. SHE WASN’T BEAUTIFUL, EITHER. SHE WASN’T SHOCKED BY MY ABRUPT ENTERING. NOT EVEN SURPRISED. SHE APPEARED TO ME DELIGHTED. BUT, I CAN’T BE SURE. NOT UNTIL NOW I PRESUME THAT SHE HAD MORE THAN ONE VISITOR. ACTUALLY, IT DOESN’T MATTER. THE WOMAN NODDED AGAIN. I CAME CLOSER, EVEN MORE TIMID AND NERVOUS, AND I SAT IN THE CORNER OF THE BED, WONDERING WHAT IS HAPPENING, BEING SORRY FOR THE CABLE CAR I MISSED, CURSING MY LOVE FOR OLD HOUSES WITHOUT REFLECTIVE WINDOWS, WHERE LIGHT FROM HIGH WINDOWS IS FLICKERING OVER OLD BOX-SHRUBS.

 

THE WOMAN RAISED HER HAND AND STROKED ME. I HAVE NEVER FELT SUCH A WEIGHT ON MYSELF. EXCEPT MAYBE ONCE, WHEN, NEAR THE SEA, I HAD PUT ON A DEEP SEA DIVER’S BALLAST BELT. FROM THIS STROKING ALL HEADACHES SUDDENLY FLEW AWAY. THE BUZZING AND DRONING STOPPED. MY THOUGHTS ABOUT THE CONTRADICTORY CONCEPTIONS EVAPORATED. BUT, FEAR HAUNTED MY HEART. “DAMN IT”, I SAID TO MYSELF, “AFTER ALL WE’RE LIVING IN THE 21TH CENTURY”. I FELT THAT, UNDER THE SHEETS, THE BODY OF THE WOMAN WAS BREATHING. THAT CALMED ME DOWN. I LOOKED AT THE TV SCREEN THAT HAD FILLED A DISTANT CORNER. WHAT DO YOU THINK I FOUND? UNDER THE SOUNDS OF COLD JAZZ, MY WHOLE PAST LIFE WAS PLAYING IN SLOW MOTION. ALL MY INSIGNIFICANT FUTURE. I SHIVERED, SCARED, AND THE WOMAN CALMED ME DOWN WITH HER LEAD PALMS, QUIETLY LAUGHING. YES, THE WOMAN WAS CHEERFULLY LAUGHING, TAPPING ME WITH A COLD LEAD PALM.

 

OH MY GOD, MY GOD”, I SAID TO MYSELF, GASPING. I’VE BEEN SO NAÏVE, I’M SO NAÏVE EVEN TODAY. AS POOR AS I’VE BEEN, I’M EVEN POORER NOW. HOW HAVE I WALKED PAST WITH THE GOOD AND THE MERITED, TO STRENGTHEN THE POSITIONS OF ALL KINDS OF CREATIVE CONCEPTIONS WHICH JUST WASTE TONS OF PAPER. AND THE LIFE, THIS WASTED LIFE OF MINE, WAS FLOWING LIKE A RIVER THERE, ON THE FLAT SCREEN OF THE COLOR TELEVISION SET, BUT IT DIDN’T SHINE WITH THE COLORS OF A RAINBOW, BUT WITH THE MONOTONY OF THE UNIFORMITY. SOMETIMES EVANESCENT SPARKS FLASHED, BUT IT WAS SO SUDDEN, UNEXPECTED AND FRAGILE, THE WOMAN JUST SHRUGGED WITH SYMPATHY. ALL THE TIME WAS HEARD THE SOUND OF WONDERFUL COLD CONTEMPORARY JAZZ. THE WOMAN AND ME TAPPED OUT FEET WITH THE RHYTHM. THEN SOMETHING CRACKED. THE MUSIC STOPPED. A THOUGHTFUL MAN APPEARED ON THE SCREEN, TAPPING HIS FEET IN THE EMPTINESS OF THE WINTER NIGHT. A MAN WITH SNOW-WHITE LONG HAIR. I RAN TO THE MIRROR TO CONVINCE MYSELF ABOUT THE TRUTH OF WHAT I SAW. THE WOMAN’S HAND ATTRACTED ME AGAIN, ONLY TO FEEL IT EVEN HEAVIER, BUT NOT THAT COLD. I STARED AT THE TV SCREEN AS AN ANNOUNCER WITH A SERIOUS FACE APPEARED ON IT. THE ANNOUNCER STARTED TALKING ABOUT THE FATE OF THE WORLD, CONCERNED ABOUT THE FATE OF THE PEOPLE, BUT IN HIS STORY I DIDN’T SEE NEITHER MY OWN FATE NOR THE FATE OF THE WOMAN NAILED TO THE BED, FORCED TO WATCH TV ALL THE TIME, DAY AND NIGHT.

 

“TURN ON THE LIGHTS!” THE WOMAN SUDDENLY ASKED ME, “TURN ON THE LIGHTS…” HER VOICE SOUNDED CRYSTAL-CLEAR, AND OVERCAME THE FLOW OF ACTUAL INFORMATION. THE VOICE WAS SURPRISINGLY MELODIC, AND POWERFUL. I IMMEDIATELY OBEYED. I STARTED WALKING AT THE DOOR, READY TO RUN FROM THE FEAR. I FLIPPED THE SWITCH. BEHIND ME SOMETHING RUSTLED AND I TURNED AROUND. I FROZE WITH SURPRISE, WONDER AND ENVY. FROM THE HEART OF THE WOMAN, SLOWLY AND GRACEFULLY GREW A MIGHTY FLOWER. UNKNOWN AND UNSEEN. INCREDIBLE AND ABSURD. SLOWLY OPENING ITS LEAVES, AND SLOWLY UNCOVERING A SCARLET BLOSSOM. AND QUICKLY GROWING ROOTS TO THE FLOOR. THE ROOTS SHATTERED THE FLOOR AND WENT DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, TO THE HEART OF EARTH MAYBE, TO REACH IT AND EMBRACE IT. THE FLOWER GREW LARGE LEAVES. OPENED ITS BLOSSOM. RELEASED ITS MINDLESSLY WONDROUS AROMA. MIGHTILY SET OFF TO THE CEILING. SMASHED IT, SPREADING PIECES OF PLASTER. THEN DISAPPEARED IN THE SKY. THE ROOM SUDDENLY BECAME COLD, AND THE TV WENT BLACK. THE WOMAN KEPT SMILING GUILTILY, STRUCK BY SUDDEN PAIN. I KISSED HER ON THE HEAD. IT WAS COLD, AND BLOOD ERUPTED FROM HER MOUTH.

“GO AWAY!” THE WOMAN WHISPERED, HER MOUTH SPRAYING BLOOD, “GO AWAY!… GO AWAY!… GO TO YOUR CONCEPTIONS…”

I STOOD BENUMBED, WONDERING HOW TO GET OUT OF HERE, WHEN THE TV TURNED BACK ON. ON THE SCREEN, UNDER THE SOUNDS OF COLD ACADEMIC JAZZ, RAN OTHER PEOPLE’S FATES, BUT WHO CARES ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE’S FATE? I RAN DOWN THE STAIRS, THEY WERE SPIRALING ENDLESSLY, TO THE HEART OF EARTH, WHERE WE HAVE ALL CAME FROM. I QUICKLY PASSED THROUGH THE CORRIDOR, FRIGHTENED THAT ONE OF THE FLOWER’S ROOTS WOULD PIERCE THE CEILING TO STAB ME. THE DOOR WAS WIDELY OPEN. I SHUT IT WITH ALL MY STRENGTH. I DIDN’T TURN BACK. MY FACE STILL FELT THE STRANGE WEIGHT OF THE UNKNOWN LADY’S HAND. A WEIGHT THAT EVEN TODAY I FEEL WHENEVER I HEAR WORDS ABOUT CONCEPTIONS AND ANTI-CONCEPTIONS.

 

ON THE BUS STOP I SIGHED WITH RELIEF. PEOPLE WERE LINED UP BY TWO. NOBODY TURNED BACK, WHY WOULD THEY DISRUPT THE NICE ORDER? ONLY I WAS RESTLESSLY FIDGETING, ONLY WHEN THEY SCOLDED ME I CALMED DOWN. I PUT MY HAND INTO MY POCKET AND FOUND OUT THAT I HAVEN’T GOT A TICKET. I ASKED THE WOMAN STANDING NEXT TO ME FOR ONE. I PUT SOME MONEY INTO HER HAND. I FELT THE LEAD WEIGHT OF THAT WOMAN’S HAND AGAIN. MY EYES MET HERS. IT WAS THE WOMAN FROM THE OLD HOUSE. MYSTERIOUSLY SMILING. UNDERSTANDING EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE. WITH A HEAVY STRING-BAG IN ONE HAND, AND A PORTABLE TV IN THE OTHER. I ACCEPTED THE TICKET. I PAID, AND THE TOUCH OF HER HAND SUDDENLY FELT TENDER, WARM AND INVITING, LIKE HER IN ALL HER BEAUTY. WHEN THE CABLE CAR CAME, I HELPED HER GET ON. I GLANCED AT THE SCREEN OF THE PORTABLE TV IN HER HANDS. EVEN COVERED WITH WINTER FROST, IT SILENTLY AND INVISIBLY WORKED. I LOOKED AT THE OLD HOUSE I JUST HAD LEFT. THE WINDOW WAS FULL OF DARKNESS.

 

I OFTEN PASS BY THAT HOUSE. SPRING AND AUTUMN, STRANGE FLOWERS GROW AND DRY ON ITS ROOF. THE APARTMENT BLOCKS AROUND IT ARE SURROUNDING IT, EVEN MORE AND MORE OMINOUSLY. SOME DAY, IT WILL ALSO BE DESTROYED. EVERYTHING COULD BE BUILT ON THE SITE. BUT, WILL THIS FATEFUL FLOWER GROW? I PASS BY THE OLD HOUSE SITTING IN THE CABLE CAR, HOLDING THE SEAT IN FRONT OF ME, AS LIKE AN UNEXPECTED BLOW OF WIND COULD TAKE ME BACK THERE. TO WALK UP THOSE ENDLESS SPIRAL STAIRS AGAIN, TO THE HEART OF EARTH AND BACK. AND ALWAYS, OH, ALWAYS PAIN STRIKES INTO MY HEART AND MY HEAD STARTS RINGING, BUZZING AND DRONING. THEN, I SAY TO MYSELF WITH A SADNESS FEW COULD UNDERSTAND, THAT THIS IS PROBABLY A ROOT OF THAT SCARLET FLOWER THAT CONNECTED EARTH, HOME AND SKY WITH ROOTS, STEM AND BLOSSOM.

29.05.2005.

Êàòåãîðèÿ: Èçêóñòâî
Ïðî÷åòåí: 772 Êîìåíòàðè: 0 Ãëàñîâå: -1
Ïîñëåäíà ïðîìÿíà: 24.08.2013 10:27
 

 image

 

(c) 2010-BOGOMIL KOSSTOV AVRAMOV-HEMY
ÏËÜÎÑ
ÐÀÇÊÀÇ
ÁÎÃÎÌÈË ÊÎÑÒÎÂ ÀÂÐÀÌÎÂ ÐÓÑÅÂ-ÕÅÌÈ

ÍÀ Â. ×Â.

ÏÎÏÐÅÕÂÚÐËÈ ËÈ ×ÎÂÅÊ ÃÎÄÈÍÈ, ÍÅ ÎÑÒÀÂÀ ÄÐÓÃÎ, ÎÑÂÅÍ ÄÀ ÑÈ ÑÅ ÒÞÕÊÀ – ÄÀ ÑÈ ÑÅ ÂÀÉÊÀ. ÏÎ ÎÒÌÈÍÀËÎ ÍÀ ÕÀËÎÑ ÂÐÅÌÅ. ÏÎ ÏÐÅÍÅÁÐÅÃÍÀÒÈ-ÏÐÎÏÓÑÍÀÒÈ ÆÅÍÈ. (ÙÎ ÇÀ ØÎÊÎËÀÄ ÈÌÀØÅ ÏÎ ÂÐÅÌÅ ÎÍÒ!) ÏÎ ÈÇÒÚÐÂÀÍÈ ÄÀËÀÂÅÐÈ. (ÄÍÅÑ ÄÀ ÑÚÌ ÖÀÐ ÍÀ ×ÎÐÀÏÎÃÀÙÈÒÅ Â ÐÅÂÎËÞÖÈÎÍÅÍ ÏÀÐÀÃÂÀÉ!) ÏÎÄÈÐ ÏÐÎÏÈËßÍÀ ÊÀÐÈÅÐÀ. (ÎÏÀÇÂÀÉÊÈ ÑÊÀÏÀÍÀÒÀ ÑÈ ÄÚÐÆÀÂÀ, ÄÎÊÎËÊÎ ÎÏÀÇÈ ÑÎÁÑÒÂÅÍÈÒÅ ÌÚÄÅ!?!) ÏÎÄÈÐ ÏÐÎÏÈËÅÍÈ ÃÎÄÈÍÈ Â ÏÎËÓÁÅÇÐÀÁÎÒÈÖÀ. (ÏÐÈ ÑÎÖÈÀËÈÇÚÌÀ – ÒÚÊÚÂÚÍÊÚ ÍÅÌÚ!?!)

 

 ÊÐÀßÒ ÍÀ ÊÐÀÈÙÀÒÀ ÍÀÑÒÚÏÂÀ ÑÚÄÁÎÂÅÍ ÄÅÍ.  ÊÎÉÒÎ ÄÚÐÆÀÂÀÒÀ ÈÇÂÅÄÍÚÆ ÑÅ ÑÅÙÀ, ×Å ÂÑÅ ÎÙÅ ÑÚÙÅÑÒÂÓÂÀØ. ÇÀ ÄÀ ÒÈ ÇÀÔÓ×È Â ËÈÖÅ ÏÎÄÀßÍÈÅ, ÍÀÐÈ×ÀÍÎ „ÏÅÍÑÈß“. (ÏËÜÎÑ!) ÀÊÎ ÑÈ ÁËÈÇÚÊ Ñ ÍÀ×ÀËÑÒÂÎÒÎ, ÁÈ ÎÒÂÎÞÂÀË ÍßÊÀÊÂÎ ÏÎÄÎÁÈÅ ÍÀ ×ÅÑÒÂÀÍÅ. ÏÐÅÄÏÐÈßÒÈÅÒÎ ÏËÀÙÀ. (ÏËÜÎÑ!) ÄÚÐÆÀÂÀÒÀ ÒÈ ÑÅ ÎÒÏËÀÙÀ Ñ ÂÚÇÌÎÆÍÎ ÍÀÉ-ÁÅÇÃËÀÑÍÈ ÔÀÍÔÀÐÈ. Ñ ÂÚÇÌÎÆÍÎ ÍÀÉ-ÍÅÄÎÁÐÎÑÚÂÅÑÒÍÎ ÏÅÍÑÈÎÍÍÎ ÐÀÇÏÎÐÅÆÄÀÍÅ. ÈÇÏËÞÒÎ ÎÒ ÂÚÇÌÎÆÍÎ ÍÀÉ-ÏÐÅÒÎÂÀÐÅÍ ÊÎÌÏÞÒÚÐ. ÎÒÏÅ×ÀÒÀÍÎ ÏÎ×ÒÈ ÁÅÇ ÌÀÑÒÈËÎ. ÍÀ ÂÚÇÌÎÆÍÎ ÍÀÉ-ÂÒÎÐÎÊÀ×ÅÑÒÂÅÍÀ ÕÀÐÒÈß. ÏÐÈ ÏÎÌÎÙÒÀ ÍÀ ÂÅ×ÍÎ ÁËÎÊÈÐÀÙ ÏÐÈÍÒÅÐ. (ÏËÜÎÑ!) È, ÍÅ ÎÑÒÀÂÀ ÍÈÙÎ ÄÐÓÃÎ, ÎÑÂÅÍ Ñ ÒÐÓÄÍÎ ÈÇÌÅÐÈÌÀ ÒÚÃÀ ÄÀ ÑÈ ÏÐÈÏÎÌÍßØ. ÍÅÏÎÊÎÐÅÍÈ ÖÈÖÈ. (ÏËÜÎÑ!) ÇÀÄÍÈÖÈ ÍÀ ÏÎ×ÒÈ ÎÂËÀÄßÍÈ ÌÀÖÊÈ. (ÏËÜÎÑ!) ÇÀÏÈÂÊÈ Â ÈÌÅÒÎ ÍÀ ÄÐÓÆÁÀÒÀ ÌÅÆÄÓ ÍÀÐÎÄÈÒÅ. (ÏËÜÎÑ!)  ÈÌÅÒÎ ÍÀ ÍÀ ÊÎÌÓÍÈÑÒÈ×ÅÑÊÈß ÈÍÒÅÐÍÀÖÈÎÍÀË. (ÏËÜÎÑ!) ÍÀ ÎÁÅÄÈÍÅÍÀ ÅÂÐÎÏÀ È ÑÂÅÒÎÂÍÈßÒ ÃËÎÁÀËÈÇÚÌ. (ÍßÌÀ ÏËÜÎÑ!) ÌÚÆÅÑÒÂÅÍÀ ÁÅÇÏÎÌÎÙÍÎÑÒ ÂÚ ÂÚÐÕÎÂÈ ÌÎÌÅÍÒÈ. (ÏËÜÎÑ!) ÊÀÊÂÎ ËÈ ÍÅ. (ÏËÜÎÑ!) ÊÀÊ ËÈ ÍÅ. (ÏËÜÎÑ!) ÍÈÙÎ-ÍÈÊÀÊÂÀ ÏÐÎÑßØÊÀ ÏÅÍÑÈß, Ñ ÊÎßÒÎ ÅÄÈÍÑÒÂÅÍÎ ÁÈ ÌÎÃÚË ÓÑÒÎÉ×ÈÂÎ ÄÀ ÏÓÊÍÅØ ÎÒ ÃËÀÄ! (ÏËÜÎÑ!) (ÏËÜÎÑ!) (ÏËÜÎÑ!) (ÏËÜÎ – Î – ÎÑ! ...)

 

ÑÏÎÌÍßÌ ÑÈ - ÈÇÂÚÒÐÅ ÌÅ ßÄÅ, ÈÇÖßËÎ ÄÈÂÀØÊÎÒÎ ÍÀØÅ ÌËÀÄÅÍ×ÅÑÒÂÎ. ÒÀÌ,  ÁÅËÎÃÐÀÄ ÂÅËÈÊÎËÅÏÍÈÉ. ÍÀ ÁÐÅÃÀ ÍÀ ÌÎÐÅÒÎ ÒÅÌÀÐÈÍ. ÊÎÃÀÒÎ ÒÅËÅÂÈÇÎÐ ÈÌÀØÅ ÅÄÈÍÑÒÂÅÍÎ ÏÎ ÑÒÐÀÍÈÖÈÒÅ ÍÀ ÑÏÈÑÀÍÈÅ „ÈÊÎÍÎÌÈß È ÄÎÌÀÊÈÍÑÒÂΓ,  ÃÐÀÄÑÊÀÒÀ ÁÈÁËÈÎÒÅÊÀ. (ÏÐÅÄÈ Òß ÄÀ ÑÒÀÍÅ ÎÊÐÚÆÍÀ!) ÊÎÃÀÒÎ ÂÌÅÑÒÎ ÊÚÌ Ó×ÈËÈÙÅ, ÎÒÏÐÀØÂÀÕÌÅ ÊÚÌ ÕÎËÀÍÄÑÊÈß ÊÅÉ. ÅÄÈÍÑÒÂÅÍÎ ÑÚÊÐÎÂÍÎ ÌßÑÒÎ, ÊÚÄÅÒÎ ÑÐÅÙÀÕÌÅ ÑÚ×ÓÂÑÒÂÈÅ ÇÀ ×ÓÏÊÀÒÀ ÎÒ ×ÀÑ. ÇÀ ÄÀ ÇÀÕÂÚÐËÈÌ ×ÀÍÒÈÒÅ Ñ ÎÁËÅÃ×ÅÍÈÅ,  ÒÐÞÌÀ ÍÀ ÍßÊÎß ÈÇÎÑÒÀÂÅÍÀ ÄÅËÔÈÍÎËÎÂÍÀ ÒÀÊÀ ÏÎÄ ÐÅÌÎÍÒ. (ÏËÜÎÑ!) ÄÀ ÑÊÎ×ÈÌ Â ÍßÊÎß ÍÅÄÎÊÀËÚÔÀÒÅÍÀ ËÎÄÊÀ. (ÏËÜÎÑ!) ×Å, ÄÀ ÎÒÏÐÀØÈÌ ÍÀ ÑÂÎÁÎÄÀ ÂÑÐÅÄ ÇÀËÈÂÀ ÏÐÅÄ ÁÅËÎÃÐÀÄ. ÓÕÀÅÙ ÍÀ ÐÀÇÖÚÔÍÀË ÀÊÀÖÈÅ ÖÂßÒ, À ÏÎ-ÒÎ×ÍÎ ÍÀ ÎÄÅÊÎËÎÍ Ñ ÍÀÇÂÀÍÈÅ „ÒÐÎÉÍÎÉ“, ÊÀÊÒÎ ÙÅ ÑÅ ÎÊÀÆÅ ÏÎÄÈÐ ÃÎÄÈÍÈ. ÍÀÒßÃÀÕÌÅ ÍÀ ÃÐÅÁËÀ, ÂÑÐÅÄ ÇÀËÈÂÀ È ÎÁÐÀÒÍÎ. ×ÈÐÀÊÓÂÀÕÌÅ ÏÐÈ ÍÅÃÐÀÌÎÒÍÈ ÐÈÁÀÐÈ. ÏÐÅÄÏÎËÀÃÀÌ, ÂÑßÊÀ ÌÅ×ÒÀ ÇÀ ÏÅÐÑÎÍÀËÍÀ ÑÂÎÁÎÄÀ Å ÑÂÚÐÇÀÍÀ, Ñ ÍÅÏÎÑÐÅÄÑÒÂÅÍÎ ÁßÃÑÒÂÎ ÎÒ ÄÅÉÑÒÂÈÒÅËÍÎÑÒÒÀ.  ÁÅËÎÃÐÀÄ, ÒÎÂÀ ÑÅ ÏÐÀÂÈ ×ÐÅÇ ÌÎÐÅÒÎ. ÊÎËÊÎ ÌÍÎÃÎ ÑÊÚÏÎ ÍÈ Å, ÂÑÈ×ÊÎ ÒÎÂÀ.

ÌÀÐÈÌÀÍÈÒÅ ÎÒÊÐÈÂÀÕÀ ÍÀØÈÒÅ ÑÊÀÒÀÍÈ, ÏÎÄ ÏËÈÒÎÂÅÒÅ ÍÀ ÄÅËÔÈÍÎËÎÂÍÈÒÅ ÃÅÌÈÈ, Ó×ÅÁÍÈ ÏÎÑÎÁÈß. È, ÏÎÃÈÂÀÕÀ ÎÒ ÑÌßÕ. ÁÅÇÃÐÀÌÎÒÍÈ. ÄÚËÁÎÊÎ ÒÚÆÍÈ. ÍÈÊÎÃÀ ÂÅÑÅËÈ. ÌÀÊÀÐ ÂÅ×ÍÎ ÂÅÑÅËßÙÈ ÑÅ ßÊÈ ÂÏÈßÍ×ÅÍÈ ÌÚÆÅ. ÈÇÏÅ×ÅÍÈ ÎÒ ÁÓÐÈ, ÁÐÅÃÎÂÀ ÌÈÇÅÐÈß È ÕÀËÈ. ÌÀËÎÌÎÙÍÈÒÅ ÊÎÐÀÁÈ ÊÎÈÒÎ ßÇÄÅÕÀ, ÂÎÄÅÕÀ ÍÀ ÀÁÀ – ÏÎ ÂÚÒÐÅØÍÎ ÓÑÅÙÀÍÅ - ÁÅÇ ÊÀÐÒÈ. ÏÐÅÇÈÐÀÉÊÈ ÍÀÊÎÍÒÅÍÈÒÅ ÊÀÏÈÒÀÍÈ ÍÀ ÏÀÐÀÕÎÄÑÒÂÎÒÎ, ÃÄÅ ÐßÄÊÎ ÈÇÄÚÐÆÀÕÀ ÏÈß×ÊÀ.

×ÅÑÒÎ ÈÇßÆÄÀÕÌÅ ÏÎÐÖÈß ÁÎÉ. ÙÎÒÎ, ÍÅ ÑÅ ÂÇÅÌÀ ×ÓÆÄÀ ËÎÄÊÀ ÇÀ ÄÀ ÎÒÈÄÅØ ÍÀ ÊÀÐÀÍÒÈÍÀÒÀ ÍÀ ÏËÀÆ - ÊÀÊ ÙÅ ÑÅ ÂÚÐÍÅØ, ÀÊÎ ÂÄÈÃÍÅ ÌÎÐÅÒÎ? ÙÎÒÎ, ÊÀÊ ÒÀÊÀ ÇÀÁÈÂÀØ Ñ ÄÂÅ ÄÚÑÊÈ ÂÌÅÑÒÎ ÃÐÅÁËÀ, ÁÅÇ ÐÚ×ÍÀ ÏÎÌÏÀ  ÍÅÊÀËÚÔÀÒÅÍÎ ÊÎÐÈÒÎ!?! ÙÎÒÎ, ÒÎÂÀ Å ÌÎÐÅ, À ÎÒ ÍÅÃÎ ÑÅ Î×ÀÊÂÀ ÂÑÈ×ÊÎ.
ÈÇÊÀÐÂÀÕÌÅ ÏÎÂÅ×ÅÒÎ ÑËÅÄÎÁÅÄÈ ÎÒ ÑÅÄÌÈÖÀÒÀ ÍÀ ÌÎÐÅ. ÌÍÎÇÈÍÀ ÎÒ ÍÀÑ ÓÑÏßÕÀ ÄÀ ÂÇÅÌÀÒ ÑÅÐÒÈÔÈÊÀÒ. ÀÇ ÑÚÌ ÏÎ ÄÈÏËÎÌÈÒÅ.
ÐßÄÊÎ ÏÐÅÏÎÄÀÂÀÒÅËÈ ÈÄÂÀÕÀ ÄÀ ÍÈ ÒÚÐÑßÒ. (ÄÎÊÀÒÎ ÑÈ ÏÀÇÀÐÓÂÀÒ ÏÐßÑÍÀ ÐÈÁÀ!) ÏÎ ÎÍÎÂÀ ÂÐÅÌÅ ÁÅËÎÃÐÀÄ, ÁÅ ÃÎËßÌ ÊÎËÊÎÒÎ ÍÎÑÍÀ ÊÚÐÏÀ ÑÃÚÍÀÒÀ ÍÀ ×ÅÒÈÐÈ. ÊÎËÊÎ ÁÅ ÍÀÑÅËÅÍÈÅÒÎ ËÈ? ÄÂÀ ÔÀÉÒÎÍÀ ÄÎ ÊÎÇÈÐÊÈÒÅ, À ÎÑÒÀÍÀËÈÒÅ ÏÅØ. ÅÄÈÍ ÎÒ ÒÅÇÈ ÏÐÅÏÎÄÀÂÀÒÅËÈ, ÍÀÏÈÐÀÙÈ ÇÀ ÏÐßÑÍÀ ÐÈÁÀ Ñ ÍÀÌÀËÅÍÈÅ, ÁÅ ÅÄÍÀ ÈÇÊËÞ×ÈÒÅËÍÀ ÆÅÍÀ. ÄÐÓÃÀÐÊÀÒÀ ÍÅÌÊÎÔÎÍÊÀ. ÁÅÇÏÎÙÀÄÍÀ ÑÒÀÐÀ ÃÎÑÏÎÆÈÖÀ. ÂÚÇÏÈÒÀÍÈÊ ÍÀ ÌÅÑÒÍÈßÒ ÍÅÌÑÊÈ ÏÀÍÑÈÎÍ. (ÎÑÍÎÂÀÍ 1922., ÇÀÊÐÈÒ ÑËÅÄ ÂÎÉÍÀÒÀ, ÈÇÐÈÍÀÒ Ò ÇÅÌÈ Â 2005.!) ÏÎÇÂÎËßÂÀÙÀ ÑÈ, ÄÀ ÑÈ ÈÇÊÀÐÂÀ ßÄÀ ÊÚÌ ÁÐÀÒÑÊÈÒÅ ÐÓÑÊÈ ÎÊÓÏÀÖÈÎÍÍÈ ÂÎÉÑÊÈ, (ÌÀËÊÎ ÍÅÙÎ ÏÎÐÀÇÏÈÒÂÀÍÀ!), ÂÚÐÕÓ ÍÀØÈÒÅ ÎÑÒÐÈÃÀÍÈ ÍÓËÀ ÍÎÌÅÐ ÍÅÏÎÊÎÐÍÈ ÌÎÌ×ÅØÊÈ ÃËÀÂÈ.

 

ÄÐÓÃÀÐÊÀÒÀ ÍÅÌÊÎÔÎÍÊÀ, ÁÅ ÆÅÍÀ ÎÒ ÃËÀÂÀ ÄÎ ÏÅÒÈ. ÏÐÅÊÐÀÑÍÈ ÖÈÖÈ. ÍÀÐÅØÅÒÚ×ÅÍ ÎÒ ÌÎÌ×ÅØÊÈ ÏÎÃËÅÄÈ ÐÀÇÊÎØÅÍ ÇÀÄÍÈÊ. ÁßËÎ È ÍÅÂÈÍÍÎ ÊÀÒÎ ÍÀ ËÅÎÍÀÐÄÎÂÀ ÌÀÄÎÍÀ ËÈÖÅ. ÍÅÈÇÌÅÍÍÎ ÇÀÁÈÒÎ Â ×ÅÐÍÀÒÀ ÄÚÑÊÀ, ÏÎÐÀÄÈ ÈÇÊËÞ×ÈÒÅËÍÎ ÊÚÑÎÃËÅÄÑÒÂÎ. ÑÒÀÐÀÒÅËÍÎ ÈÇÏÈÑÂÀÙÀ ÎÒÐÎÂÍÈÒÅ ÏÀÄÅÆÍÈ ÒÀÁËÈÖÈ, ÍÀ ÍÀÉ-ÌÐÀ×ÍÈßÒ ÅÇÈÊ ÍÀ ÑÂÅÒÀ. ÈÇËÀÉÂÀÉÊÈ ÍÅÌÑÊÎÔÎÍÑÊÈ ÇÀÊËÞ×ÅÍÈß ÇÀ ÂÑÅÊÈ ÅÄÈÍ ÎÒ ÍÀÑ. ÍÅ ÏÐÎÏÓÑÊÀÉÊÈ ÄÀ ÐÀÇÒÐÅÑÅ ÂÅËÈ×ÅÑÒÂÅÍÎ ÒßËÎ,  ÈÌÅÒÎ ÍÀ ÁÅÇÐÎÏÎÒÍÎ ÏÎÑËÓØÀÍÈÅ. (ÌÈÑËÅÍÎ ÏÎÄÏßÂÀÕ "ËÈËÈ ÌÀÐËÅÍ", ÌÀÊÀÐ ÄÀ ÁÅ ÇÀÁÐÀÍÅÍÎ – ÄÀ ÏÎÌÈÑËÈØ!)
- ÇÚà ... ÇÚà ... ÇÚà … - ÒÅÁÅØÈÐÚÒ ÑÒÚÐÆÅØÅ ×ÅÐÍÀÒÀ ÄÚÑÊÀ.
ÊËÀÑÚÒ ÇÀÌÈÐÀØÅ.
- ÇÚà ... ÇÚà ... ÇÚà … - ÒÅÁÅØÈÐÚÒ ÏÅÅØÅ ÏÎ ×ÅÐÍÀÒÀ ÄÚÑÊÀ.
ÂÑÅÊÈ ÁÅ ÑÏÓÑÍÀË ÐÚÊÀ  ÑÊÚÑÀÍÈÒÅ ÄÆÅÁÎÂÅ ÍÀ ÑÂÎÈÒÅ ÓÍÈÔÎÐÌÅÍÈ ÏÀÍÒÀËÎÍÈ. ÅÄÈÍÑÒÂÅÍÀÒÀ ÑÚÓ×ÅÍÈ×ÊÀ  ÒÎÇÈ ÈÇÖßËÎ ÌÚÆÊÈ ÊËÀÑ ÒÚÍÅØÅ Â ÁÎÆÓÐ.
- ÇÚà ... ÇÚà ... ÇÚà … - ÒÅÁÅØÈÐÚÒ ËÓÄÓÂÀØÅ ÏÎ ×ÅÐÍÀÒÀ ÄÚÑÊÀ.
ÈÇÁßÃÂÀÕÌÅ ÄÀ ÈÇÁÓÕÂÀÌÅ Â ÑÌßÕ. ÄÐÓÃÀÐÊÀÒÀ ÍÅÌÊÎÔÎÍÊÀ ÑÈ ÂÚÎÁÐÀÇßÂÀØÅ, ×Å ÍÈ Å ÎÂËÀÄßËÀ. ÑÂÈÑÒßÕÀ ÕËÀÄÍÈ ÏÎÃËÅÄÈ ÏÚËÍÈ ÑÚÑ ÆÀÐÀÂÀ. ×ÎÂÅÊ ÑÅ ÎÒÐÀÊÂÀ, ÇÀÂÚÐÒÈ ËÈ ÑÅ ÊÐÀÉ ÌÀÐÈÌÀÍÈ.

 

ÒÀÇÈ ÔÀÒÀËÍÀ ÑÐßÄÀ, ÈÇÍÅÍÀÄÂÀÙÎ ÁßÕ Â ×ÀÑ. ÏÚÐÂÈ ×ÈÍ. ÑÐÅÄÍÀ ÐÅÄÈÖÀ. ÄßÑÍÎ. ÎÒÂÎÐÈ ÑÅ ÂÐÀÒÀÒÀ. ÍÀÕËÓ ÏÐÈÑËÓÆÍÈÊÚÒ Ñ ÐÀÇÍÎÑÍÀÒÀ ÊÍÈÃÀ. ÃÎÑÏÎÆÈÖÀ ÍÅÌÊÎÔÎÍÊÀ ÑÅ ÐÀÇÏÈÑÀ.
- ÃÎÃÎÌÈË ÑËÀÂÈÃÎÃÎÂ – ÏÐÈ ÄÐÓÃÀÐßÒ ÄÈÐÅÊÒÎÐ – Ð – Ð ...
ÌÎÆÅ ÄÀ ÒÈ Å ÄÐÓÃÀÐ, ÊÀÇÀÕ ÑÈ ÍÀ ÓÌ, ÍÎ ÇÀ ÌÅÍÅ ÒÎÇ" ÂÚØÊÀÐ ÄÎÐÈ ÍÅ Å ÄÈÐÅÊÒÎÐ. ÒÐÚÃÍÀÕ ÏÎÊÎÐÍÎ ÏÎÄÈÐ ÏÐÈÑËÓÆÍÈÊÀ. ÃÎÑÏÎÆÈÖÀ ÍÅÌÊÎÔÎÍÊÀ – ÏÎÄÈÐ ÍÀÑ.

×ÈÑÒÈ×ÊÎ ÏÐÈÃËÀÄÅÍ, ÑÚÑ ÑÏÅÑÒÅÍÎ ÀËÀÁÐÎÑ×Å È ÙÐÚÊÍÀËÈ ÌÓÑÒÀ×ÊÈ, Ñ ÄÈÌßÙÀ ÖÈÃÀÐÀ  ÐÚÊÀ, ÄÐÓÃÀÐßÒ ÄÈÐÅÊÒÎÐ ÌÅ ÈÇÃËÅÄÀ ÏÐÅÇÐÈÒÅËÍÎ È ÄÈÂÎ.
- ÏÐÀÑ! - ËÈÖÅÒÎ ÌÈ ÏËÀÌÍÀ.
- ÏÐÀÑ! - ÓÕÎÒÎ ÌÈ ÏËÀÌÍÀ.
- ÏÐÀÑ! - ËÈÖÅÒÎ ÌÈ ÑÚÂÑÅÌ ÏÎÐÓÌÅÍß.
À, ÈÇ ÏÎÊÚÑÀÍÈßÒ ÌÈ ÄÆÎÁ ÍÀ ÇÅÌßÒÀ ÈÇÏÀÄÍÀ ÃÀÁÐÎÂÑÊÀ ×ÅÊÈÉÊÀ.
- Ñ ÍÎÆ ÏÎÑßÃÀØ – À?
- ÏÐÀÑ! ÏÐÀÑ! ÏÐÀÑ! - ËÈÖÅÒÎ ÌÈ ÑÚÂÑÅÌ-ÑÚÂÑÅÌ ÏÎÃÈÍÀ.

ÃÐÀÁÍÀÕ ×ÅÊÈÉÊÀÒÀ ÎÒ ÏÎÄÀ. ÏÐÎÔÓ×ÀÕ ÏÐÅÇ ÊÎÐÈÄÎÐÀ, Ó×ÈËÈÙÅÒÎ È ÁÅËÎÃÐÀÄ. ÑÏÐßÕ ÑÅ ÅÄÂÀ ÍÀ ÕÎËÀÍÄÑÊÈß ÊÅÉ. ÓØÈÒÅ ÌÈ ÏÈÙßÕÀ ÎÒ ÄÈÐÅÊÒÎÐÑÊÎÒÎ ÏÐÀÂÎÐÀÇÄÀÂÀÍÅ. ÏÐÅÄ Î×ÈÒÅ ÌÈ ÍÅ ÏÐÅÑÒÀÂÀØÅ ÄÀ ÑÅ ÈÇÂÈÑßÂÀ ÑËÀÂÍÈßÒ ÒÐÅÏÅÒÅÍ ÇÀÄÍÈÊ ÍÀ ÄÐÓÃÀÐÊÀÒÀ ÍÅÌÊÎÔÎÍÊÀ. ÍÀØÀ ÄÎÂÅÐÅÍÀ ÊËÀÑÍÀ ÍÀÑÒÀÂÍÈÖÀ. ÑÅÊÐÅÒÀÐ ÍÀ ÏÚÐÂÈ×ÍÀÒÀ ÏÀÐÒÈÉÍÀ ÎÐÃÀÍÈÇÀÖÈß. ÍÅÉÍÈÒÅ ÍÀÏÈÐÀÙÈ; ÈÇÏÎÄ ÁÅËÎÑÍÅÆÍÀÒÀ ÊÎÏÐÈÍÅÍÀ ÁËÓÇÊÀ, ÑËÀÂÍÈ ÁÎÇÊÈ. ÄÎÊÀÇÂÀÙÈ ÂÑÅÊÈÌÓ, ×Å ÎÑÂÅÍ ÈÍÒÅÐÍÀÖÈÎÍÀËÈÇÚÌ , ÂÑÅ ÏÀÊ ÑÚÙÅÑÒÂÓÂÀ È ÏÐÈÐÎÄÀ.

ÍÀ ÕÎËÀÍÄÑÊÈß ÊÅÉ, ÊÀÊÒÎ ÂÈÍÀÃÈ, ÁÅ ÒÚÏÎ, ÒÈÕÎ È ÑÏÎÊÎÉÍÎ. ÏÎÄÓÕÂÀØÅ ÂÅÒÐÅÖ. ÃÅÌÈÈ ÄÐÅÌÅÕÀ ÈÇÊÀÐÀÍÈ ÍÀ ÒÀÊÓÑÈ. ÄÅËÔÈÍÎËÎÂÖÈÒÅ ÃÈ ÍßÌÀØÅ. ÍÀ ÊÚÐÌÀÒÀ ÍÀ ÍßÊÎÃÀØÍÀÒÀ ÏÀÐÍÀ ßÕÒÀ „ÊÀÌ×Èß“, ÏÐÅÂÚÐÍÀÒÀ  ÎÒÎÏËÈÒÅËÍÀ ÑÒÀÍÖÈß, ÌÎÐßÖÈ ËÀÏÀÕÀ ÐÈÁÀ-ÏËÀÊÈß. ÑÒÀÐÀÒÀ ÃÅÌÈß „ÌÀÐÈÔÅß“ ÑÅ ÏÎÊËÀÙÀØÅ ÍÀ ÂÎÄÀ. ÈÇÊÀ×ÈÕ ÑÅ ÏÎ ÒÐÀÏÀ. ÂËßÇÎÕ Â ÍÎÑÎÂÈß ÊÓÁÐÈÊ. ÇÀÂÐßÕ ÃËÀÂÀ  ÅÄÈÍÑÒÂÅÍÈß ÑËÀÌÅÍÈÊ. ÇÀ ÄÀ ÑÅ ÍÀÏËÀ×À. ÒÓÊ ØÀÌÀÐÈ ÍÅ ÑÅ ÐÀÇÄÀÂÀÕÀ ÁÅÇ ÄÀ ÈÌÀ ÇÀÙÎ.

 

ÊÀÒÎ ÍßÌÀ ÊÚÄÅ ÄÐÓÃÀÄÅ, ×ÎÂÅÊ ÑÈ ÑÅ ÏÐÈÁÈÐÀ Ó ÄÎÌÀ. (IF!) ÇÀÂÀÐÈÕ ÑÒÀÐÈßÒ ÌÐÀ×ÅÍ, ÃÐÀÏÀÂ È ÊÈÑÅË. ÏÐÅÄ ×ÈÍÈß ÑÓÏÀ, È ÏÀÐ×Å ÊËÈÑÀ ÂÎÅÍÍÎÂÐÅÌÅÍÅÍ ÕËßÁ.
- ÒÀÊÈÂÀ ÍÅÙÀ, - ÈÇÐÈÃÍÀ, - ÍÈÊÎÃÀ ÍÅ ÑÅ ÐÀÇÏÐÀÂßÒ!
ÏÎÁÓÒÍÀ ÃÍÅÂÍÎ ×ÈÍÈßÒÀ, À ÑÓÏÀÒÀ ÑÅ ÐÀÇÏËÈÑÊÀ È ÏÎ ÌÀÑÀ, È ÏÎ ÏÎÄ. ÌÀÌÀÍ ÑÅ ÂÒÓÐÍÀ ÄÀ ÏÎ×ÈÑÒÂÀ.
- ÒÀÊÀ ÄÀ ÊËÅÂÅÒÈ, ÁÅÄÍÀÒÀ ÆÅÍÈÖÀ ...
ÒÎÃÀÂÀ ÏÀÏÀ ÈÇÁÓÕÍÀ  ÍÀÉ-ÂÅËÈÊÎËÅÏÍÈß ÑÌßÕ, ÊÎÉÒÎ ÍßÊÎÃÀ ÑÚÌ ×ÓÂÀË. ÇÀÂÈÍÀÃÈ ÓÑÒÀÍÎÂÈÕ, ×Å ÒÎÇÈ ÍÀÈÂÍÈÊ ÂÑÚÙÍÎÑÒ Å ÍÅÇÀÌÅÍÈÌ. ÁÅ ÐÀÇÁÐÀË – ÏÐÅÄÈ ÒÎÂÀ ÀÇ ÄÀ ÑÒÎÐß - ÑÚÂÑÅÌ ÒÎ×ÍÎ, ÇÀ ÙÎ ÈÄÅ ÐÅ×. ÂÅ×ÍÎ ÂÅÑÅËßÖÈÒÅ ÑÅ ÌÀÐÈÌÀÍÈ, ÁÅÇÎÁÈÄÍÈ ÏÈßÍÈÖÈ È ÁÐÅÃÎÂÈ ÃÀÌÅÍÈ, ÍÀÑÒÚÐÂÅÍÈ ÇÀ ÂÑÈ×ÊÎ ÏÎÄ ÑÓÊÌÀÍ, ÑÅ ÁßÕÀ ØÅÃÓÂÀËÈ „ÏÎÄ ÑÅÊÐÅÒ“. (ÄÀ ÍÅ ÍÈ ÈÇÄÀÄÅØ!) ÊÀÊ ÏÎ ÂÐÅÌÅ ÍÀ ÁÐÀÒÑÊÀÒÀ ÍÅÌÑÊÀ ÎÊÓÏÀÖÈß, ÄÐÓÃÀÐÊÀÒÀ ÍÀÑÒÎßÙÀ ÏÀÐÒÈÉÍÀ ÑÅÊÐÅÒÀÐÊÀ È ÇÀÌÅÑÒÍÈÊ ÄÈÐÅÊÒÎÐ ÏÎ Ó×ÅÁÍÎ-ÂÚÇÏÈÒÀÒÅËÍÀÒÀ ×ÀÑÒ, ÂÑßÊÀ ÂÅ×ÅÐ ÑÚÂÅÑÒÍÎ ÇÀÇÄÐÀÂßÂÀËÀ ÄÐÓÆÁÀÒÀ ÌÅÆÄÓ ÄÂÀÒÀ ÑÚÂÑÅÌ ÁÐÀÒÑÊÈ ÍÀÐÎÄÈ,  ÐÅÑÒÎÐÀÍÒ-ÃÐÀÄÈÍÀ „ÃÐÎÇÄ“. ÊÀÊ Â ÎÒÏËÀÒÀ ÇÀ ÏÎËÎÆÅÍÈÒÅ ÓÑÈËÈß, ÁÚÄÅÙÀÒÀ ÂÚÇÏÈÒÀÒÅËÊÀ ÍÀ ÏÎÊÎËÅÍÈß ÊÎÌÓÍÈÑÒÈ×ÅÑÊÈ ×ÀÄÀ, ÏÎËÓ×ÈËÀ ÁËÀÃÎÐÎÄÍÈ×ÅÑÊÈ ÇÍÀÊ. ÒÎ×ÍÎ ÒÀÌ, ÊÚÄÅÒÎ ÒÎÂÀ ÑÅ ÏÎËÀÃÀ. ÄÎÊËÀÄÂÀÍ ÎÒ ÁÀÁÈÒÅ Â ÑÒÀÐÀÒÀ ÃÐÚÖÊÀ ÁÀÍß,  ÃÐÚÖÊÀÒÀ ÌÀÕÀËÀ ÍÀ ÁÅËÎÃÐÀÄ. ÁÅ ÂÐÅÌÅ, ÊÎÃÀÒÎ ÊÌÅÒÚÒ ÕÎÄÅØÅ ÏÅØÀ, À ÑÀÌÎ ÎÁËÀÑÒÍÈßÒ Ñ ÔÀÉÒÎÍ. ÅÄÈÍÑÒÂÅÍÎ ÂËÀÄÈÊÀÒÀ ÑÅ ÂÎÇÅØÅ Â ÒÐÎÔÅÅÍ ÌÅÐÖÅÄÅÑ. ÄÀ ÏÐÈÒÅÆÀÂÀØ ÄÓØ-ÊÀÁÈÍÀ Ó ÄÎÌÀ!?! Î, ÒÎÂÀ ÑÅ ÏÐÅÑËÅÄÂÀØÅ; È ÎÒ ÏÀÐÒÈß, È ÏÎ ÇÀÊÎÍ; ÊÀÒÎ ÂÐÅÄÅÍ ÄÐÅÁÍÎÁÓÐÆÎÀÇÅÍ ÓÊËÎÍ. ÈÑÒÈÍÑÊÈßÒ ÊÎÌÓÍÈÑÒ È ÄÍÅÑ ÓÑÏßÂÀ, ÄÀ ÎÖÅËÅÅ ÁÅÇ ÁÀÍß.
- ÄÀ ÑÈ ÃÎ ÏÐÅÄÓÏÐÅÄÈËÀ! - ÑÎÏÍÀ ÑÅ ÍÀ ÌÀÌÀÍ.
ÏÀÏÀ ÑÈ ÍÀËß ÎÙÅ ÅÄÍÎ, ÏÀ ËÅÃÍÀ ÄÀ ÌÓ ÎÒÊÚÐÒÈ.
ÏÐÅÇ ÖßËÀÒÀ ÒÎÏËÀ ÁÅËÎÃÐÀÄÑÊÀ ÍÎÙ, ÏÀÏÀ ÑÊÎÊÂÀØÅ ÎÒ ÑÚÍ, ÍÀÏÓØÂÀÍ ÎÒ ÈÇÊËÞ×ÈÒÅËÅÍ ÑÌßÕ. ÂÑÚÙÍÎÑÒ ÄÚËÁÎÊÎ ÇÀÃÐÈÆÅÍ. ÊÐÀ×ÅØÅ ÍÀÑÀÌ-ÍÀÒÀÌ ÈÇ ÄÂÎÐÀ. ÎÒÊÚÑÂÀØÅ ÍßÊÎß ÑÌÎÊÈÍß. ÏÐÈÌËßÑÂÀØÅ. ÎÒÍÎÂÎ ÑÅ ÐÀÇÒÐÈÑÀØÅ ÎÒ ÑÌßÕ.
- À, ÊÀÊÂÎ ÏÀÐÒÈÉÍÎ ÑÚÁÐÀÍÈÅ ÏÐÅÄÑÒÎÈ ...
ÎÒÍÎÂÎ ËßÃÀØÅ – ÓÆ ÄÀ ÑÈ ÎÒÑÏÈ.
ÁßÕ ÑÅ ÈÇÏÐÀÂÈË ÏÐÅÄ ÌÀËÊÈß ÒÀÂÀÍÑÊÈ ÏÐÎÇÎÐÅÖ ÍÀ ÑÂÎßÒÀ ÑÈ ÑÒÀß. ÁßÕ ÎÒÏÐÀÂÈË Î×È ÊÚÌ ÇÂÅÇÄÈÒÅ. ÍÎ, ÏÅÒÎËÚ×ÍÀ ÇÂÅÇÄÀ, ÒÀÊÀ È ÍÅ ÎÒÊÐÈÕ. ÒÚÐÑß ß È ÏÎÍÀÑÒÎßÙÅÌ. ÍÈÊÀÊÂÀ ß ÍßÌÀ.

 

Ñ ÎÙÅ ÍßÊÎËÊÎ ÏÐÈÑÌÅÕÓËÍÈÖÈ, ÁßÕÌÅ ÍÀÁÚÐÇÎ ÈÇÕÂÚÐËÅÍÈ ÎÒ Ó×ÈËÈÙÅ. ÈÄÅØÅ ËßÒÎ. ÇÀÑÅÄÀÂÀÕÌÅ Â ÊÀÔÅÍÅ-ÒÅÐÀÑÀ „ÊÓÖÎÒÎ ÊÓ×Å“. ÍÀÄ ×ÀØÀ ÊÀÔÅ, ×È×Î ÏÅÒ ÍÈ ÏÎÓ×È.
- ÀÌÈ, ÄÐÀÑÍÅÒÅ ÅÄÍÎ ÏÈÑÚÌÖÅ, ÄÎ ÍÀÉ-ÃËÀÂÍÈßÒ. ÒÎÉ ÃÎËÅÌÈÒÅ ÐÀÁÎÒÈ ÍÈÊÎÃÀ ÍÅ ÁÈ ÓÑÏßË ÄÀ ÎÏÐÀÂÈ, ÒÎÂÀ Å ÏÎÂÅ×Å ÎÒ ßÑÍÎ, ÍÎ ÂÈÆ – ÏÎ-ÄÐÅÁÍÈÒÅ – ÁÈ ÓÑÏßË.
- ÄÀ ÍÅ ÍÈ ÎÏÀÍÄÈÇßÒ!?!
- ÌÀËÎËÅÒÍÈ ÇÀ ÑÅÃÀ ÍÅ ÏÈÏÀÒ. ÕÀÉÄÅ ÑÅÃÀ, ÐÀÇÊÀÐÀÉÒÅ ÑÅ.
ÐÅ×ÅÍÎ - ÑÒÎÐÅÍÎ. ÁßÕÌÅ ÃÐÀÌÎÒÍÈ ÇÀ ÂÚÇÐÀÑÒÒÀ ÑÈ. ÑÅÄÍÀÕÌÅ ÍÀ ÌÎßÒ ÒÀÂÀÍ. ÍÀÏÈÑÀÕÌÅ ÏÈÑÌÎ, ÏÀ ÃÎ ÈÇÏÐÀÒÈÕÌÅ.

ÏÈÑÌÎÒÎ:

ÑÊÚÏÈ ÄÐÓÃÀÐÞ ÍÀÉ-ÃËÀÂÍÎÊÎÌÀÍÄÂÀÙ,

ÍÈÅ, Ó×ÅÍÈÖÈÒÅ ÎÒ ÏÚÐÂÈ „À“ ÊÓÐÑ ÍÀ ÒÅÕÍÈÊÓÌÀ ÏÎ ÐÈÁÀÐÑÒÂÎ È ÒÚÏÍß,  ÁÅËÎÃÐÀÄ ÂÅËÈÊÎËÅÏÍÈÉ, ÎÒ ÍÅÌÀÉ-ÊÚÄÅ ÍÀ ÂÀÑ ÏÈØÅÌ, ÄÍÅÑ ÌÀÐÒ 1952.. ÏÎÐÀÄÈ ÅÄÍÀ ÌÍÎÃÎ ÃÎËßÌÀ ÊÎÍÒÐÀÐÅÂÎËÞÖÈÎÍÍÀ ÍÅÏÐÀÂÄÀ. Òß Å ÑËÅÄÍÀÒÀ. ÏÎ ÂÐÅÌÅ ÍÀ ÏÐÀÊÒÈ×ÅÑÊÎ ÐÈÁÀÐÓÂÀÍÅ, Ñ ÃÅÌÈßÒÀ ÍÀ ÁÀÐÁÀ ÕÀÄÆÈ ÊÎÙÈ ÈÑÊÀÐÈÎÒÑÊÈ, ÑÒÀÍÀ ßÑÍÀ ÌÀÐÈÌÀÍÑÊÀ ÄÓÌÀ, ×Å ÍÀ ÇÚÃÀ ÍÀ ÏÀÐÒÈÉÍÀÒÀ ÍÈ ÑÅÊÐÅÒÀÐÊÀ ÄÐÓÃÀÐÊÀÒÀ ÍÅÌÊÎÔÎÍÊÀ, ËÈ×È ÍÅÈÇÒÐÈÂÀÅÌ ÏÐÎÒÈÂÎÍÀÐÎÄÅÍ ÔÀØÈÑÒÊÈ ÏÐÅ×ÓÏÅÍ ÊÐÚÑÒ. ÍÅ Å ÍÎÂÎ - ÂÑÅÊÈ Â ÁÅËÎÃÐÀÄ, ÃÎ ÇÍÀÉ! È, ÍÀËÈ ÂÈÅ ÊÀÇÂÀÒÅ, "ÊÐÈÒÈÊÓÂÀÉÒÅ ÍÅÄÎÑÒÀÒÚÖÈÒÅ Â ÍÀØÀÒÀ ÐÀÁÎÒÀ ÑÌÅËÎ È ÎÒÊÐÈÒÎ", ÍÈÅ ÃÎ ÑÒÎÐÈÕÌÅ È ÐÀÇÊÐÈÕÌÅ, È ÐÀÇÊÐÈÒÈÊÓÂÀÕÌÅ ÒÀÇÈ ÍÅÈÇÊÎÐÅÍÈÌÀ ÑÎÖÈÀËÍÀ ÍÅÏÐÀÂÄÀ. ÍÀ ÅÄÍÎ ÊÎÌÑÎÌÎËÑÊÎ ÑÚÁÐÀÍÈÅ. ×Å, È ÎÙÅ. À ÑÅÃÀ, ÄÐÓÃÀÐÞ ÍÀÉ-ÃËÀÂÍÎÊÎÌÀÍÄÂÀÙ, ÑÚÂÑÅÌ ÑÌÅ ÈÇÊËÞ×ÅÍÈ È ÍÀÉ-ÁÅÇÍÀÄÅÆÄÍÎ. ÇÀ ÖÈÃÀÍÑÊÀ ËÚÆÀ È ÏÎËÈÒÈ×ÅÑÊÀß ÊËÅÂÅÒÀ. ÎÒ ÌÍÎÃÎ ËÞÁÈÌÈßÒ ÍÈ ÒÅÕÍÈÊÓÌ ÏÎ ÐÈÁÀÐÑÒÂÎ È ÒÚÏÍß. ÅÒÎ ÇÀÙÎ ÍÀÑÒÎßÂÀÌÅ ÄÀ ÏÎÑÅÒÈÒÅ ÁÅËÎÃÐÀÄ. ÇÀ ÄÀ ÑÅ ÓÂÅÐÈÒÅ, ÍÀ ÌßÑÒÎ. ÊÀÊ ÑÒÎßÒ ÍÅÙÀÒÀ. ÊÎÉ ËÚÆÅ È ÇÀÁËÓÆÄÀÂÀ ÎÁÙÅÑÒÂÎÒÎ ÍÀØÅ ÑÎÖÈÀËÈÑÒÈ×ÅÑÊÎÅ. ÃÎÒÎÂÈ ÑÌÅ ÂÑßÊÀÊ ÄÀ ÏÎÌÎÃÍÅÌ. ÇÀ ÂÑÅÊÈ ÑËÓ×ÀÉ, ÍÎÑÅÒÅ ÑÈ ËÓÏÀ, ÈËÈ ÏÎÍÅ Î×ÈËÀ. ÍÈÅ ÐÀÇÏÎËÀÃÀÌÅ Ñ ÔÅÍÅÐ.

Ñ ÈÑÊÐÅÍ ÊÎÌÑÎÌÎËÑÊÈ ÏÎÇÄÐÀÂ: ÕÚÌÈ, ÊÚÌÈ, È ÀÑÀÍ.

Ï.Ï. ÓÒ ÀÑÀÍ: ÌÚ ÍÈÅ ÌÓÍÎÃÓ ÂÈ ÓÁÈ×ÚÌÈ ÁÀ ÄÓÐÃÀÐÞ ÃËÀÂÍÓÊÓÌÀÍÄÓÙ - ÁÀ! ÖÅËÈÉ ÄÅÍ ÍÀ ÁÅËÈÎÒ ÂÀØÈÎÒ ÏÀÌßÒÍÈÊ ÍÀ ÌÎÐÑÊÚÒÚ ÃÀÐÀÄÈÍÚ ÏÀÔÊÀÌÅ ÀÐÄÚ-ÑÈÃÀÐÊÈ.

 

 

 

ÍÅ ÌÈÍÀ ÑÅÄÌÈÖÀ. Ó×ÈËÈÙÍÈßÒ ÏÐÈÑËÓÆÍÈÊ ÒÐÚÃÍÀ ÄÀ ÍÈ ÂÐÚÙÀ  Ó×ÈËÈÙÅ. ÐÀÇÏÎÐÅÄÅÍÎ ÁÈËÎ ÄÀ ÑÅ ßÂÈÌ, ÊÀÒÎ ×ÀÑÒÍÈ Ó×ÅÍÈÖÈ. ÏÐÈ ÓÑËÎÂÈÅ, ×Å ÕÎÄÈÌ ÐÅÄÎÂÍÎ ÍÀ Ó×ÈËÈÙÅ. È ÍÅÊÀ ÇÀÁÐÀÂÈÌ ÇÂÓ×ÍÀÒÀ ÁÚËÃÀÐÑÊÀ ÄÓÌÀ "ÇÚÃ". ÄÍÅÑ, ×ÎÂÅÊ ÍÀ ÃÎÄÈÍÈ À ÂÑÅ ÑÚÑ ÑÚÙ ÀÊÚË, ÍÅ ÏÐÅÑÒÀÂÀÌ ÄÀ ÑÅ ×ÓÄß. ÊÀÊ ÒÀÇÈ ÍßÊÎÃÀØÍÀ ÑËÅÄÂÎÅÍÍÀ ÍÀÏÚËÍÎ ÎÁÅÇÏÀÐÈ×ÅÍÀ ÂËÀÑÒ ÍÀÌÈÐÀØÅ ÂÐÅÌÅ, ÄÀ ÑÅ ÇÀÍÈÌÀÂÀ Ñ ÄÅÒÈÍÙÈÍÈ È ÄÐÅÁÎËÈÈ. ÄÎÊÀÒÎ ÍÀÑÒÎßÙÀÒÀ, ÇÀÄ ÊÎßÒÎ ÑÒÎßÒ ÏÀÐÈÒÅ ÍÀ ÏÎËÎÂÈÍ ÅÂÐÎÏÀ È ÑÂÅÒÀ, ÅÄÍÀ ÃÐÀÄÑÊÀ ÊÀÍÀËÈÇÀÖÈß ÍÅ ÓÑÏßÂÀ ÄÀ ÏÎÄÄÚÐÆÀ. ÍÅ ÄÀÉ ÁÎÃ, ÄÀ ÐÓÊÍÀÒ ÏÎÐÎÉÍÈ ÄÚÆÄÎÂÅ. ÃÐÀÄÚÒ ÑÅ Å ÄÀÂÈË ÍÅ ÅÄÈÍ ÏÚÒ. Å, ÎÑÂÅÍ ÒÎÂÀ ÍÅ ÏÐÅÑÒÀÂÀÌ ÄÀ ÑÅ ÓÄÈÂËßÂÀÌ, ÍÀ ÏÚÒÈÙÀÒÀ È ÏÎÑËÀÍÈßÒÀ ÃÎÑÏÎÄÍÈ. ÄÎÒÎËÊÎÂÀ ÂÅÇÄÅÑÚÙÈ ÑÀ ÒÅ.

ÍÅÎÒÄÀÂÍÀ, ÏÐÈ ÎÁÈ×ÀÉÍÎ ÄÅÆÓÐÑÒÂÎ Â „ÁÚÐÇÀ ÏÎÌÎÙ“, ÑÅ ÍÀËÎÆÈ ÄÀ ÏÎÑÅÒß ÄÎÌÚÒ ÍÀ ÍÅÈÇÂÅÑÒÍÀ ÑÒÀÐÈÖÀ. ÎÊÀÇÀ ÑÅ, ÁÈÂØÀÒÀ ÄÐÓÃÀÐÊÀ ÍÅÌÊÎÔÎÍÊÀ. Ñ ÂËÈÇÀÍÅÒÎ ÌÈ, È ÑÅ ÐÀÇÏËÀÊÀ. ÎÑÒÀÂÀÕÀ É ÁÐÎÅÍÈ ÄÍÈ - ÄÎ ÊÐÀßÒ.  ÍÅ, ÍÅ ÓÌÈÐÀØÅ ÎÒ ÐÀÊ. ÄÐÓÃÀÐÊÀÒÀ ÍÅÌÊÎÔÎÍÊÀ ÓÌÈÐÀØÅ ÎÒ ÎÁÈËÍÎ ÏÎÄÍÅÑÅÍ ÄÅÌÎÊÐÀÒÈ×ÅÑÊÈ ÂÑÅÍÀÖÈÎÍÀËÅÍ ÃËÀÄ. ÏÎ ÐÅÄÀ ÍÀ ÑÂÎÈÒÅ ÕÓÌÀÍÍÈ ÇÀÄÚËÆÅÍÈß ÓÑÒÀÍÎÂÈÕ. ÊÀÊ, ÂÚÐÕÓ ÍßÊÎÃÀ ÒÀÊÀ ÏÐÅÊÐÀÑÍÈßÒ ÇÀÄÍÈÊ ÍÀ ÒÀÇÈ ÄÎÑÒÎÉÍÎ ÏÅÍÑÈÎÍÈÐÀÍÀ ÑÒÀÐÈÖÀ, ÂÑÅ ÎÙÅ ËÈ×È, ÎÍÇÈ ÍÀÖÈÑÒÊÈ ÁËÀÃÎÐÎÄÍÈ×ÅÑÊÈ ÏÅ×ÀÒ, ÇÀ ÊÎÉÒÎ ÍßÊÎÃÀ ÇÀÂÈÑÒËÈÂÈ ÁÀÁÈ ÎÒ ÃÐÚÖÊÀÒÀ ÌÀÕÀËÀ; ÏÐÅÄÈ ÄÀ ÈÇÐÅÊÀÒ „ÏÑÓÌÈ“; ÍÀ ÂÑßÊÎ ÊÞØÅ ÎÒÂÀÐßÕÀ ÄÓÌÀ. À ÂÚÐÕÓ ÍÅÃÎ, ÏÐÅÄÑÒÀÂÅÒÅ ÑÈ, ÁÅ ËÅÏÍÀÒÀ Ñ ÍÅÈÇÒÐÈÂÀÅÌÎ ËÈËÀÂÎ-×ÅÐÂÅÍÎ ÎÃÐÎÌÍÀ ÍßÊÀÊÂÀ ÇÂÅÇÄÀ.

ÏÎ ÂÐÅÌÅ ÍÀ ÂÎÉÍÀÒÀ, È ÄÀËÅ× ÏÎÄÈÐ ÍÅß, ÎÃËÅÄÀËÎÒÎ ÁÅ ËÓÊÑ. ÁÀÙÈÒÅ ÑÅ ÁÐÚÑÍÅÕÀ ÏÐÅÄ ÄÆÅÁÍÎ ÎÃËÅÄÀËÖÅ. ÌÀÉÊÈÒÅ ÑÅ ÎÃËÅÆÄÀÕÀ  ÏÐÈÒÚÌÍÅÍÈÒÅ ÎÒ ÎÁËÀÖÈ ÓËÈ×ÍÈ ÂÈÒÐÈÍÈ.

ÄÍÅÑ ÑÚÙÅÑÒÂÓÂÀÒ ÎÃËÅÄÀËÀ È ÂÈÒÐÈÍÈ ÇÀ ÂÑÈ×ÊÈ, À ÍÀÂßÐÍÎ, È ÇÀ ÂÑÈ×ÊÎ. ÍÅ Å ËÈ ÂÐÅÌÅ, ÄÀ ÏÈÏÍÅÌ ÎÃËÅÄÀËÀÒÀ  ÐÚÖÅ? ×Å, ÄÀÍÎ ÎÃËÅÄÀÌÅ ÃÎËÈÒÅ ÑÈ ÇÀÄÍÈÖÈ.

 

ÏÐÅÄÈ ÒÎÂÀ, ÐÀÇÁÈÐÀ ÑÅ, ÑËÅÄÂÀ ÄÀ ÑÈ ÑÂÀËÈÌ ÃÀÙÈÒÅ. ÀÊÎ, ÂÑÅ ÎÙÅ ÈÌÀÌÅ ÒÀÊÈÂÀ.

The End
23.03.1998-30.07.2012/09.11.2012.

Êàòåãîðèÿ: Èçêóñòâî
Ïðî÷åòåí: 917 Êîìåíòàðè: 0 Ãëàñîâå: 0
Ïîñëåäíà ïðîìÿíà: 30.09.2013 18:57
Òúðñåíå

Çà òîçè áëîã
Àâòîð: godlieb
Êàòåãîðèÿ: Ëàéôñòàéë
Ïðî÷åòåí: 2380342
Ïîñòèíãè: 1414
Êîìåíòàðè: 659
Ãëàñîâå: 1051
Ñïå÷åëè è òè îò ñâîÿ áëîã!
Êàëåíäàð
«  Þëè, 2013  >>
ÏÂÑ×ÏÑÍ
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031