Rus Articles Journal


of the Crow drop round balls gry, and slowly floating white down - poplar June snow - contrasts with them, ringing

the Yard formed by the sum of houses is part of the difficult, branched-out by a labyrinth system - and it is simple to get lost among uncountable transitions, arches, dead ends if you do not know accurate algorithm of a way.

One of houses is yellow, bulky, reminds ancient hrebtoobrazny fortress; pigeons on its eaves - that notes, but the melody does not sound, does not sound

the House is filled with communal flats, and life in it is dense, life - that krepkozavarenny, infused tea, not that the borsch cooked so abruptly that the spoon costs in it without falling.

Creak, parquet floor boards shoot; massivna doors, and ceilings are high - and Ljubo to the child to peer into thin cracks, representing a map of the nonexistent country, to dream.

On the second floor lives the watchmaker - the uncle Kostya - and the child sometimes goes on a visit to it: to poshurovat. - Oh, come, - the watchmaker, and the child welcomes its old, with a yellowish pergament face, quailing a little, passes to a big-bellied dresser from what the box filled blyostky - kolesaty and with stones - details, and, captivated moves forward, touches them, quietly muttering something

the Elderly Bulgarian on the fourth floor guesses, and motley cards quickly flash in thin sclerous fingers, baring the hidden scheme of someone`s destiny.

- Mash, a rassolnik boils away! - shout cuts air, and the chattered hostess hurries, hurries along a long, cranked corridor on huge kitchen where four plates will organize space as houses will organize the yard. In a column mouth blue tongues of flame - tremble they as tiny tags And frying pans! pans! The belongings human would have to characterize owners - well, everything is similar: you will think - the frying pan is burned excessively and the pan by

Volod`ka - in the used-up coat, tied up by the grease, overwound rope is not cleaned, with the thin, wolf person - comes to Valcke - the sister - the silent alcoholic.

- Buish? - And that!

Drink sweet viscous swill from dirty, chipped cups - the port brought by Volod`ka smoke Belomor, let poisonous - on the ruined lives - I will get down.

Vityok - Oleg`s son: - rolls the athlete, the Master of Sports in shot put along a corridor on a tricycle and sings something until Lyubka - mother - shouts at it, or calls to have supper.

is Densely given life, its dabs dazzle, are gilded, blacken the Child in the yard listens to

voroniya gray, dreaming to collect blyostky balls in a box A swing creaks, and two girls in a sandbox build something.

took out a coffin from an entrance, established on stools; the old woman sobbed, ironing a forehead of dear dead man; people stood a semicircle, and the ritual bus was dusty.

of the Boy of seven and nine years look at a funeral from a landing.

- And die forever? - asks younger.

- And that, - the one who is more senior in reply speaks in a deep voice. - Terribly?

- Yet

- And let`s never swear to die! - Give

, - younger agrees.

the Summer sun emphasizes dust content of a window.

That to the house someone`s concrete death? Someone else`s tragedy? A failure in mortal pro-wounds? Massive - there is it the second hundred years; seeing so many death, weddings, pleasures, a grief as if penetrated by time currents, it stores in itself(himself) dense - dense plasma of inexplicable life, stores reliably - as if indeed contradicting intrigues of death.