The MUNICIPAL CANTATA
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.