Rus Articles Journal

Who best of all tells fairy tales? Our grandmothers of

the Bed in a bedroom big, wide. More to the left and slightly above it - the slightly opened window curtained by a gauze in which from that party fight annoyancely itching, mosquitoes. Behind a window it is dark. Even branches of a ranetka which have to be where - then, absolutely nearby are not visible. Give a hand - you will get. Is not present

. It is not visible. Only it is heard as plays, still the breeze, lazy after a day heat, rustles with leaves weak. Yes from time to time, having disturbed foliage, with deaf noise worm-eaten apple falls in the front garden grass which is already beginning to turn yellow. One. Here, the second. Somewhere there, in the bottom of a ravine, the jagged bow the cicada gets the simple melody.

Darkly in the room. Quietly. Only mosquitoes itch behind a window, the breeze which is already beginning to share a night cool rustles with foliage, apples fall, the cicada scrapes on the violin.

It is empty and it is a little uncomfortable on a big wide bed to one. Generally, there has to be also a father. But now summer. And it - on a mow. Here if in the winter - it comes. But later. When eyes by itself are closed, without having waited for the evening fairy tale. Their father not really loves. Also knows badly. Even about Kolobok and that I - am better than him. It it is eternal, will pass a hare, about a wolf will forget.

The aunt - has to know. She is Kolke when he small was, - told?! Only to it - not before. It still on a summer kitchen. Puts for tomorrow some “support“.

According to fairy tales - it is the granny. But it is not here. It there, in the Cossack, remained where the small river, station, club and hospital. And still this. The Village Council … * * *

Is direct

behind a threshold, already in an outer entrance hall, a cool of not as in summer cloudy morning. And a rain the droplets, izzyabshy in a night, - in a window shibka:

- Tuk - tuk … Tuk - tuk! Let in, people kind … Yet not woken up eyes also would not watch

at this, in general, tasty pshenka. The heavy metal spoon from a stainless steel with opposite, booming knock constantly drops out of a hand on a pure table-top. And suddenly … From a threshold, a witness mark removing from a yoke on a bench the buckets which are just brought with kolodezya, the granny:

- Mysha, a mysha …

- And?.

- Dae the bull?.

- And de?.

- On weed.

- And sho?.

- Sho of a zarobyl? Piece of fat!

- And?!

The spoon promptly accelerates the running start after the introduction which is running away from the granny …

- Dae ty fat?

Once! Only eyes are wider and the burned-out eyebrows - up!


- Pid a bench!

And the granny, bending, attentively looks under a bench on which there are already almost to the brim filled buckets:

- At what zagornuto? In halyavts!

The spoon with a gnash already scratches a bowl bottom...

- And?!

- And dezh that halyavka?!

The neck, as soon as it is possible, is extended up and slightly aside … Well that there under a bench?! Damned table-top! Huge, how that kolkhoz field on which it is not visible the granny when she with crew leaves to weed a beet … to

at all - Dae?!

- And de that halyavka? Mice sharpened …

I the granny, without being unbent, almost from - under benches, Nema makes a helpless gesture … “...“

- And de ti mice?

And suddenly … Promptly rising from an inclination, the granny - you towards, loudly, but it is soft and tender, directly in a face:

- Mu - at - urrrm! Whale zyiv!

Well, here! Knew, knew! And again not terribly was frightened …

Still a moment - and already somewhere above, almost concerning tufts of a matitsa, in strong granny`s hands … And her happy laughter. In total! Kashi - that … Too. “Nem“!