Rus Articles Journal

Last straws of a rain

What is life, and in what meaning of life? Millions of people at the different moments of the short life ask similar questions. Someone else in the childhood, someone in youth, and someone and in a starchestvo. But all of them find answers sooner or later. The same who does not find them come that life is senseless, and live the remains of the days in hope that sometime learn its true appointment. Someone sees sense in love, comprehensive love to people or certain representatives of these people, someone in achievement of the material and social benefits, someone, keeping the commandments of the religion.

Ya long thought over it, but probably, to me these knowledge will come with my last breath of this life.

Every day I do to

the same actions. I wake up early in the morning, I put on, I drink hot coffee. I walk the dog and I go to work. After work sometimes I come into shop to buy a dinner, and, having come home, I go to bed. I practically with anybody do not communicate, except for the dog, it is impossible to call it full communication. But then it suited me, only with it I could be uttered, he licked my wounds, listened to me, and, the main thing, did not object me, looking at me the understanding look. Not for nothing there is such proverb that a dog - the friend of the person. And he was to me a friend, it was to me everything.

the Strange fact - lately I observe incompleteness, inferiority of everything existing everywhere. But maybe, all this seems to me? Perhaps, it is only my sick imagination. It is necessary to notice that imagination at me and, seemingly, all I really became patients from recently - for frequent frosts which cause atypical reaction in my organism. And if now I go outside, then I will receive the next portion of cold and cough the next morning as I have no umbrella.


Why to some people likes a rain? What attracts with their this cold, this feeling of dampness and hostility when you get wet when everywhere pools and this dirt. Same it is so vile. Here and now all run, hurry quicker home, to shake last straws of a rain from umbrellas and to be heated at the heaters. Strange, but sometimes I like such weather. Clouds darkly - blue float, and this rain, this look directs at me desire to think, reflect on life. Though seldom weather casts such desire and today one of such, unusual days.

the Last drink of this real Brazilian coffee, and I will leave this institution. With each drink I am had to other world, to the light, solar world where this estrangement and loneliness where all smile to you is absent, speak with you open heart every moment in that paradise life where there is no evil, greed and all terrestrial sins. So there is no wish to do it last time. But it is necessary to leave a drop of this paradise in this already cooled down cup again to come and drink up, but already hot and inspiring.

For now needs to go, move towards this slush, to go home, to walk a dog and to sleep. Generally, to repeat all this banal action of my life. But why, why all this I do? Whether unless only for continuation of the existence? But who, in effect needs it?

Such thoughts concerned with

my consciousness not so often, but as soon as “stork“ of such ideas came, covered me with waves of rough works of a brain. And in the rest of the time I lived as by inertia, did everything mechanically, and, apparently, nothing could stop such quiet current of my life.

But, probably, something could.

Now I will try to remember this event.

It was on Wednesday as now I remember, there was quite cold evening and, strangely enough, there was a rain. That evening I especially did not want to walk my dog. But I was not able to afford mockery at an animal. and I had to go to this gray reality.

So far my dog joyfully ran and absorbed freedom of the opportunities, I stupidly stared in one point, and could not tear off from it the as though fossilized, an eye. It seemed to me that this point becomes closer and closer to me, and I could already reveal distinctly from this point a figure of the person, and it was the girl under an umbrella.

It went a slow step, and in all its movement ease, simplicity, grace was felt. It approached me, I madly wanted to raise the eyes above to see her face, to make out features of the attracting being, but my eyes did not obey me, and caught only the general, its silhouette, the movements.

It was for some reason presented to me by life. Came from nowhere, and, getting closer to me, approaches all are closer and closer to the riddle and secret. I began to scroll all stages of the short life - from the childhood until now and saw that there was nothing of that kind special in we wash existence.... In the childhood I was an obedient and quiet child, always satisfied all requests of my parents is momentary, never with anybody quarreled, I had no friends, except for a dog. My adolescence just as as if was erased from my memory. School... University... but before me there were only last 3 years of my existence.

Ya instantly came off the dreams, having distinguished lines of the suitable girl, everything in it was so harmonious and graceful - the person: eyes, big and bright, with the penetrating look, the hair curling as black waves, pink, as petals of a tulip, lips.

“It came, probably, from the fairy tale“

In a raging sea, the thin figure reminding me a birch branch. I felt in myself desire, wild for me, in that that began to know this girl better.

“But how? As I can recognize her if we are not even familiar: to get acquainted with it? No. Yes what I got a false idea of myself?! X - ha, Casanova was...“ - here I had such, probably, thoughts then in the head. And I did not begin to accept a destiny call. I decided to leave mentally everything as it is.

It slowly passed

, having for a while detained the bewitching look on my scarf. From it reached some wildly pleasant, fresh spirits of a smell of an orchid. She was beautiful. That. Here it, my first dialogue with life. But, not with me, and with a thing.

as scalded watched

Ya to it quietly following and did not understand what in general happens to me.

the Dog helped to recover to me. He ran up joyful, and the fawning tail began to pull me a coat sleeve (so it usually showed me that it is quite satisfied with our walk and it is possible to go home). I mechanically took it for a lead, and we went towards the house. I noticed that rain already expected to fall, and I almost did not become wet, but on a hand there were 2 big drops similar to two blue eyes. I remembered it again and sharply turned back, but there nobody was any more. On the street it was empty.

looked at

Ya on the hand again: all of them still looked at me gently and, appear, quietly whispered something.

Yes, it. I do not know how, I do not know why this minute meeting then was.

This girl turned my life, she entered to me minute, and was late forever. There is no sense to tell all that it was farther with me, but I can only tell that I any more never saw it.

When my children will grow up, I will seat them this history, I want that they remembered that sometimes the destiny sends us a minute meeting or an event which can turn all life. The person can become this event, and it is necessary, giving in to the internal voice, not to miss this person, only this person will be able to turn life to the best.

A I... I missed it.

Nizhnevartovsk, 2005