Prose from whatever I create. Collection of texts for the reminder for the competition "classic is alive". Leonardo and vinchipritcha "seine"

Lesson from the story
Chapter II

My mother

Bula in me is swearing, affectionate, kind, sweet. We lived with my mother near a little house on the birch of the Volga. Budinochok is so clean and bright, and from the windows of our apartment you can see the bulo and the wide, beautiful Volga, and the majestic double-topped steamboats, and the barges, and the pier on the birch, and the yurbi, that the steamboats came out on the wharf in the summer, and that they come. .. I went there with my mother, only rarely, only rarely: my mother gave lessons in our city, and I couldn’t walk with me so often, as I wanted to. Mommy said:

Check it out, Lenusha, I'll save up pennies and pump you the Volga from our Ribinsk right up to Astrakhan itself! The axis of the same walk up enough.
I radila and checked for the spring.
Until the spring, mother saved up a few pennies, and we vyrishili with the first warm days to vykonat our vitivka.
- Axis like only the Volga to clear itself in the ice, we will rest with you! - said mother, affectionately stroking my head.
But when the kriega slid down, she caught a cold and began to cough. The kriega passed, the Volga cleared up, and the mother kept coughing and coughing without stopping. Vaughn became at once thin and clear, like a sky, and all sat there for a while, marveling at the Volga and repeating:
- From the cough, I see the troch, and we will walk with you to Astrakhan, Lenusha!
Ale cough and cold did not pass; summer was a colder and colder fate, and matusya with a skin day became the worst daedal, a blaze of that visionary.
Autumn has come. Pidishov spring. Long low cranes stretched over the Volga, which you can see near the warm edge. Mommy no longer sat around the window at the vital, but lay on her bed and spent the whole hour trembling in the cold, if she herself was hot, like fire.
Once she called me to herself and said:
- Listen, Lenusho. Your mother will soon see you again... Ale, don't scold me, love. I will forever marvel at you from the sky and am glad for the goodness of my girl, and ...
I didn't let her go home and wept loudly. My mother began to cry like that, and her eyes became sumptuous, so themselves, like that angel, whom I dreamed of in the great image in our church.
Having calmed down for a moment, the matusya spoke again:
- I see that the Lord will soon take me to Himself, and may God have holy will! Be a wise woman without a mother, pray to God and remember me... You will go to live before your uncle, my dear brother, I live in Petersburg ... I wrote to you about you and asked you to take the orphan ...
It hurt more at the word "siritka" my throat hurt ...
I cried, cried and thrashed like my mother's bed. Maryushka (a cook, she lived in us for nine years, from the very fate of my people, and loved my mother and me without memory) came and took me to her, seeming that "mother needs peace."
All in tears, I fell asleep during the middle of the night on Maryushka's bed, and the lie ... Oh, what a lie!
I threw myself too early, I guess, it's a good year, and I wanted to run straight to my mother.
Tsієї hvilini veiled Maryushka and said:
- Pray to God, Olenko: God, taking your matir to yourself. Your mother died.
- Mother died! - I repeated like the moon.
I immediately felt so cold, cold! There was a noise at the head in me, and the whole room, and Maryushka, and the stele, and styl, and stylts - everything turned upside down and whirled in my eyes, and I no longer remember what happened to me for the cym. It turns out, I fell into a pidlog without feelings.
I otyamilas then, if already the mother was lying at the great white screen, at the white cloth, with a white wine on her head. The old blue priest, reading his prayers, slept in bed, and Maryushka prayed right on the threshold of the bedroom. Like old women came and prayed, then marveled at me with pity, hit their heads and mumbled with their toothless mouths.
- Siritka! Round Siritka! - the same with a head and marveling at me pitifully, said Maryushka and wept. The old ones were crying...
On the third day, Maryushka brought me to a white junkie, in which my mother lay, and called me to kiss my mother's hand. Then the priest, having blessed the mother, the sleepers fell asleep more deeply; like people came, they closed the white screen and carried the її get out of our little house ...
I cried out loud. Ale, the old ones, who knew me, were sleeping here, saying that you should bring your mother and that you don’t need to cry, but you need to pray.
They brought the white skrinka to the church, we stood in the afternoon, and then the people came anew, lifted the skrinka and carried it to the tsvintar. There was already a bula virita glyboka black hole, where they lowered the matusya string. Then they threw earth over the pit, put a white cross over it, and Maryushka led me home.
On the way, she told me that in the evening they would take me to the station, put me at the train station and send me to St. Petersburg to my uncle.
- I don’t want to go to my uncle, - I said gloomily, - I don’t know any uncle and I’m afraid to go to a new one!
Ale Maryushka said, it’s shameful to say so to the great maiden, that my mother feels it and that it hurts more than my words.
Then I quieted down and began to guess the guise of an uncle.
I didn’t swear by my St. Petersburg uncle, but in my mother’s album, there’s a portrait. Vіn buv images on a new man in a golden embroidered uniform, with a faceless order and a star on his chest. Vіn mav more respectful looking, and I was afraid of him in passing.
After being offended, how far the ice had pushed me, Maryushka put all my cloths and whiteness in an old bag, gave me tea to drink and took me to the station.

Lydia Charska
NOTES OF A LITTLE GYMNASI STUDENT

Lesson from the story
Rozdil XXI
Pіd noise of the wind and the whistle of khurtovini

The wind whistled, screeched, crackled and hooted on different boats. Either with a pitiful thin voice, or with a rude bass gurkot, singing in your fighting dog. Likhtars of ice blew the criss-crossingly majestic white plastics from the snow, which clearly huddled on the sidewalks, on the street, on carriages, and horses that were passing by. And I kept going and going, going forward and forward.
Nyurochka told me:
"You need to go backwards to the Great Street, to such high-rise houses and luxury shops, then turn right-handed, then left-handed, then turn right-handed again and again left-handed, and there everything is straight, right to the very end - to our house. Vіn bіlya zvintar itself, there was a church here ... such a beautiful one.
I got so worked up. Everything went straight, as it seemed to me, along a long and wide street, ale no high houses, no retail stores, I did not run. Everything veiled in front of my eyes, like a shroud, a live fluff of the wall silently falling with majestic plastics of snow. I turned right-handed, then left-handed, then again right-handed, knowing everything exactly, as Nyurochka told me, - and everything went, went, went without a hitch.
The wind mercilessly fluttered the underbelly of my burnous, piercing me with cold through and through. Plastics from the snow were beaten in disguise. Now I have already gone far not so fast as before. My legs were full of lead, my whole body was trembling in the cold, my hands were numb, and I could hardly collapse with my fingers. Turning a little incomprehensibly right-handed and left-handed, I now took the straight road. Quietly, the ice was darkly merehtlivy, the lights of the likhtars were trapping me all nearer and nearer ... The noise from horse-drawn horses and carriages on the streets was signifi- cantly out of sight, and the way, as I went, having become deaf and deserted.
Nareshti snіg soil rіdshati; majestic plastics did not fall so often now. The distance cleared up a trifle, but the natomist’s mind so thickly filled me with such thick days that I could scarcely see the road.
Now, no noise from the ride, no voices, no coachman's wigukivs did not seem to me for a long time.
How quiet! Silence is dead!
Ale, what's up?
My eyes, which already sounded to the point of drowsiness, are now divided into redundant. Lord, where am I?
No houses, no streets, no crews, no walkers. In front of me is an endless, majestic expanse of snow... Like zabuti budinki along the edges of the road... Like a fence, and in front of it is black, majestic. Maybe, park chi lis - I don’t know.
I turned around... Behind me flashing bugs... bugs... bugs... Skilki їх! No kintsya... no rahunka!
- Lord, that place! Misto, it's great! I whine. - And I went to the outskirts ...
Nyurochka said that the stench lingered in the outskirts. Well, so awesome! Those who are dark in the distance, tse i є zvintar! There is a church, and, not reaching, їhnіy budinochok! That's all, that's how it happened, as she said. And I was pissed off! Axis stupid!
And with the radiance of spirituality, I went forward again badioro.
Ale not here Bulo!
My feet now listened to me like ice. I almost passed them over to you. The neimovirny cold made me shiver from my head to my feet, my teeth chattered, my head was noisy, and it hit my temples. What a marvelous drowsiness has reached yet. I wanted to sleep so badly, I wanted to sleep so terribly!
"Well, well, just a few more - and you will be with your friends, you will fetch Nikifor Matviyovich, Nyura, my mother, Sergius!" - I thought to myself, as best I could ...
Alece did not help.
My legs were slightly shifting, now I was solemnly pulling them, now one, now another, from deep snow. Ale, the stench is collapsing more and more, everything ... quieter ... And the noise at the head is squirming more and more, and the Daedals are stronger at the temples ...
Nareshti, I am not visible, and I fall on the kuchuguru, which has hid on the edge of the road.
Ah, how good! Like licorice like that! Now I don’t feel any pain, I don’t feel pain ... As if receiving warmth is spreading all over the body ... Oh, how good! So the bi y sat here and didn’t see the sound! And I’m not supposed to know what happened to Nikifor Matviyovich, and I saw him, healthy and ill, - I would have fallen asleep here for a year or a friend ... Mitzno fell asleep! Tim is bigger, the tsvintar is not far away... Vin can be seen. A verst-friend, no more ...
Snіg stopped walking, the khurtovina withered trochs, and the month was hoarse because of the gloom.
Oh, better if it hadn’t been for a month, and I wouldn’t have known to take a lot of activity!
No flowers, no churches, no budinochkivs - there is nothing ahead!
Zhakh having hobbled me.
Now only I realized that I had lost my way.

Lev Tolstoy

Swans

The flock of swans flew from the cold side to the warm earth. The stench flew across the sea. The stench flew in the day and night, and on the next day and in the next day the stench, without a trace, flew over the water. It was the new moon in the sky, and the swans, far below, were pumping water, which was blue. All the swans stared, waving their wings; but the stench did not rattle and flew away. Old, strong swans flew in front, those who were young and weak flew behind. One young swan flew behind all. Yogo's strength weakened. Vіn waved his wings and did not fly away in a moment. Todі vіn, spreading wings, pіshov down. Vіn closer and closer descending to the water; and comrades yogo far away and far away were beaten by the moonlight. The swan descended into the water and folded its wing. The sea slid under him and stole Yogo. A flock of swans could be seen as white rice in the bright sky. And the trochs were a little bit in the silence, like the sound of their wings. If the stench of zovsim rose from the fields of dawn, the swan bent back her neck and flattened her eyes. Vіn did not break, and only the sea, rising and sinking in a wide swamp, lifted a little and lowered yoga. Before the dawn, a light wind blew the sea. I water squelched in the swan's white chest. The swan smashed his eyes. At the gathering, the red dawn dawned, and the moon and the stars became closer. The swan sighed, waving its neck and waving its wings, moving and flying, chirping its wings in the water. Vіn vіdnіmavsya more and more and flying alone over the dark stubble that swarmed.

Paulo Coelho
Parable "The Secret of Happiness"

One trader corrected his son to know about the Secret of Happiness from the wisest of all people. Yunak forty days ishov through the desert,
nareshti pidiishov to the beautiful castle, standing on top of the mountain. There is a wise man alive, like a fool. However, our hero, having drank at the hall, drank in the place of the wise people, and everything was virulent: merchants entered and left, people moved into the hut, a small orchestra played licorice melody and stood in a style, furnishing with the most beautiful herbs. The wise man spoke with different people, and young people had a chance to spend close to two years to check their cards.
The wise man respectfully listened to the young man's explanation about the method of his visit, and then said to him that he didn't have time to reveal the Secret of Happiness to you. I urged you to take a walk with your palace and come again in two years.
“However, I want to ask for one service,” adding the sage, stretching out a small spoon to the youth, dropping two drops of olives into the yoke of wine. - For the whole hour of the walk, keep that spoon in your hands so that the oil does not wag.
The lad began to rise and descend along the palace descents, not staring at the spoons. For two years I turned to the sage.
- Well, yak, - having drunk that one, - ty bachiv persian kilims, what do you know near my far? Ty bachiv park, what kind of head gardener did you make up ten years? Have you mentioned the miracle parchment in my library?
The lad at the benign maw knows that he is not guilty of anything. With a single turbot, it was not possible to shed drops of olives, as if a sage had entrusted him.
“Well, turn around and be aware of the wonders of my All-Sveta,” the sage said to you. - You can’t trust people, because you don’t know from the house, you live with someone.
Calm down, young man, having taken a spoon and again pishov for a walk with a palace; once, with bestial respect for all the works of art, hung on the walls and steles of the palace. Vіn pobachiv gardens, otochenі mountains, nіnіzhnіshі kvіti, vytonchenіnіst, s kozhen іz tvorіv mystekstva bіv pomіshchenі і there, de prіbno.
Turning to the sage, he described everything that was good.
- And what about those two drops of olives, how did I trust you? - having slept the Sage.
I youngak, glancing at the spoon, revealing that the whole oil was waving.
- The axis is the same joy, as I can give you: The secret of Happiness is to marvel at all the wonders of the world, while not forgetting about the two drops of olives at your spoon.

Leonardo Da Vinci
Parable "NEVOD"

And again, I didn’t bring a rich catch. The fishermen's cats were filled to the top with chub, korop, tench, pike, bug and faceless hedgehog. Tsіlі rib'yachі sіm'ї,
with children and households, they were vivezen on the market stalls and were preparing to finish their work, writhing in agony on baked pans and in boiling cauldrons.
Ribi, who had been lost in the river, ruined and choked with fear, not venturing to swim, dug deeper into the mule. How to live far? Alone with a net, do not run into. Every day they throw at the most important places. Vіn mercilessly destroy the fish, and the whole river will be empty.
- We can think about the share of our children. Nobody, crim us, don’t tell about them and don’t let a terrible mani, - the piskars were murmuring, who climbed into the glade under a great cramp.
- Ale scho we can robiti? - timidly asking the line, listening to the promos of the smiley.
- Don't be afraid! - at the same time, there were piskars. On the same day, the all-knowing brisk vugs rang out according to the river call
about taking a bold decision. All the ribs, from the small to the great, were tempted to go tomorrow to the sweater in a deep, quiet butt, protected by rosy gils.
Thousands of fish of all stripes and colors have flown up to a maddened month, in order to cast a net of war.
- Listen carefully! - having said the corop, which repeatedly went into overheating the city and the tikati from the full. - Not as wide as our river. Shchob vіn trimavsya stіymya pіd water, to yogo lower vozlіv attached lead weights. I command all ribs to share on two sides. The first one was guilty of lifting from the bottom to the surface, and the other one, having saved mіtsno trimatima, the upper knots of the merezhі. The pikes are handed over to overwhelm the hanks, with which they cannot cling to both shores.
Zatamuvavshi podikh, ribis heard the skin word bat.
- I order vіdrazu virushi on rozvіdku! - continued corop. - Їm slid to install, where to throw nevid.
The vugri were violating the zavdannya, and the rib'yachі zgraї were stingy on the shore in a heavy beating. At the same time, the fishermen tried to help the most boyish and for the sake of not giving up the panitsi, to get something to eat at the nevid: even the fishermen still can’t get enough to take yoga ashore.
Nareshti vugri turned and added that the seine had already been thrown about one mile down the river.
I axis majestic armada rib'yachі zgraї poured to the point, led by a wise corop.
- Drink carefully! - ahead of the cotton. Practice to the fullest strength with your fins and chime at all times!
In front of me, the unknown, the Syrian and the evil one, appeared. Choked with anger, the ribis boldly rushed to the attack.
Nezabar there were no rises from the bottom, yoga skewers, which were trimmed, were cut with sharp pike teeth, and the knots were torn. But the ribs, who were dispersed, did not calm down and continued to attack the hated enemy. Having choked with teeth for pokalicheniya diryavy nevid and posileno pratsyyuchi swimmers and tails, the stench of yogo in different sides and tore on shmatki shmatki. The water in the river, it was given, boiled.
The fishermen murmured for a long time, smelt potilis, about the mysterious appearance of the seine, and the fishermen proudly tell this story to their children.

Leonardo Da Vinci
Parable "PELIKAN"
Like only a pelican, having disturbed the stern for jokes, the viper, which was sitting in a seat, immediately popped up, stealthily, to its nest. The fluffy little birds slept peacefully, they didn’t know anything about it. The snake climbed up to them. His eyes shone with an evil glint - and the reprisal began.
After taking off for a deadly bite, the little birds slept without a turbo and did not throw themselves.
Satisfied with the fast, the lihodiyka began to cry to hide, so that she could get enough of the grief of the bird.
Nezabara turned from the pelіkan's watering. After succumbing to the savage slaughter, I’ve been charged over the birds, having vibrated with thick rites, and all the sacks of the fox fell silent, hostile to the inexplicable zhorstokist.
- Without you, there is no life for me now!
І vіn having begun to tear apart your own chest with a bіl of the heart itself. The hot blood rushed with strings from the wound, which burst out, sprinkling lifeless birds.
Wasting the rest of his strength, the dying pelik threw a farewell glance at the nest with dead birds and shuddered with rapt.
O wonder! The blood shed and the batkivske kokhannya turned dear little birds to life, wresting them from the clutches of death. And then, happy, win the spirit.

lucky
Sergiy Silin

Antoshka ran down the street, thrusting his hands into the swarming jackets, stumbled and, falling down, managed to think: “Here I am!” Ale did not grasp the guts.
And suddenly, right in front of him, it was unbelievable to see a little man who had a cat.
The man pulled his hands up and took Antoshka on them, softening the blow.
Antoshka rolled over to the bed, moved on one knee and glanced at the man:
- You who?
- Lucky.
- Who who?
- Lucky. I'll talk about those that made you happy.
- Lucky for a skin person? - Antoshka chirped.
- No, we are not so rich, - an old man. - We just pass from one to the other. Today I will be with you.
- They start to take me! - Hello Antoshka.
- Exactly! - nodding Lucky.
- And if you will see me to the next?
- If it's necessary. I remember one merchant, I served for a lifetime. And one pishohod having helped only two seconds.
- Yeah! - Antoshka hesitated. - Father, I need
can you please?
- No no! - Protestantly raising his hands man. - I'm not a vikonovets bazhan! I don’t help a little bit more than a little help and praciovitim. I just change the order and work so that people are happy. Where did my invisibility cap go?
Vіn waving his hands around himself, waving his invisibility cap, put on his sign.
- Are you here? - about every vipadok after sleeping Antoshka.
- Here, here - calling Lucky. - Don't turn on
respect me. Antoshka thrust his hands to the gut and ran home. And it was necessary, it was good luck: I caught the cartoon of quibble on the cob!
For a year, the robotic mother turned.
- And I took the prize! - she said with a laugh. -
I'll go shopping!
I went to the kitchen for packages.
- Did Mami tezh Lucky show up? - Whispered his assistant Antoshka.
- Ni. Їy to spare, more order.
- Mom, I'm with you! shouted Antoshka.
For two years the stench turned back home with a whole mountain of purchases.
- Just smuga vezinnya! - Mom marveled, blischachi eyes. - I dreamed all my life about such a jacket!
- And I'm talking about such a tіstechko! - Antoshka called cheerfully from the bathroom.
On the next day at the school, having taken three fives, two fours, knowing two rubles, I made peace with Vasya Poteryashkin.
And if whistling, turning home, then revealing that he had spent the keys to the apartment.
- Lucky, ti de? - having called wine.
A crooked, neo-Haine woman looked out at the third of the gatherings. Her hair was splayed out, her brudny sleeve was torn, the boots asked for porridge.
- A whistle is not required Bulo! - She smiled and added: - I'm unlucky! What, embarrassed, right?
Don't worry, don't worry! The hour will come, I will be called to you!
- Clearly, - Antoshka was embarrassed. - The misfortune is beginning to fade ...
- That's right! - Bad luck nodded radiantly and, stepping into the wall, woke up.
In the evening Antoshka otriman pochuhan vіd tata for vtracheny key, inadvertently breaking my mother's favorite cup, forgetting what they asked Russian my, and not zmіg to finish reading the book of fairy tales, more її in school.
And before the vein itself, I blew a telephone ring:
- Antoshko, why? Tse I, Lucky!
- Hello, zradnik! Antoshka muttered. - And who do you help at once?
Ale Lucky didn’t show up for the “spider” of antrohi.
- One old man. Uyavlyaєsh, їy all life was not happy! The axis of my boss directed me to her.
Tomorrow I will help you to win a million rubles from the lottery and I will turn to you!
- Is it true? - Hello Antoshka.
- True, true, - Vіdpovіv Lucky and povіsiv hearing aid.
At night Antoshtsy had a dream. Start stinking with Lucky from the shop of chotiri string bags of Antoshka's lover's tangerines, and from the booth in front of them, the self-made grandmother laughs, which had mercy on her in life.

Charska Lydia Oleksiivna

Lucy's life

Princess Miguel

Far, far away, in the very world of the world, there was a great beautiful blue lake, similar in its color to the majestic sapphire. The palace, in the back of which a marvelous garden was broken, which smelled of aroma, called a special garden, which you can see in the fairy tales themselves.

Vlasnik of the island that lay down to the new lands was the mighty king Ovar. And a daughter grew up in the palace in the king's palace, the beautiful Miguel - the princess "...

With a lined line, the kazka is thrown up. To swirl in front of my spiritual gaze is low garnih, fantastic pictures. Sound the twinkling voice of aunt Musi now reduced to a whisper. Taєmnicho and quiet in the green Altans. Merezhivna shade of navkolishhnіh trees and bushes, throwing rukhlivy plaits on the garnenka of the face of a young headdress. Tsya kazka is my kohana. From the day of departure, my dear nanny Fenya, as she was so kind to tell me about the girl Thumbelina, I hear from my satisfaction only one fairy tale about Princess Miguel. I love my princess, without respect for zhorstokі. Heba wonna, green-eyed, lower-rozheva and golden-haired princess, who, when she appeared in the light of God, did the fairies replace the heart with a piece of diamond in her little child's breasts? And as a direct result of this boulevard, there is a lot of pity in the soul of the princess. Ale zate, yaka won bula is beautiful! It is beautiful to inspire at those hvilini, if with the hand of a white crying hand sent people to a fierce death. Quiet people, like inadvertently dragged into the secret garden of the princess.

In that garden, among the trojans and lilies, there were little children. Unbreakable garnets of elfs were tied with silver lancets to golden tufts, the stench chatted in that garden, and at the same hour piteously tinkled with their twinkling voices.

Let us go free! Let go, beautiful princess Miguel! Let us in! - Your scargs sounded like music. And this music was prima facie for the princess, and she often laughed for the blessing of her little brants.

Then, their lamenting voices pierced the hearts of the people who were passing through the garden. And you looked up to the secret garden of the princess. Ah, the stinks here weren't welcome! At the skin of such an appearance of an unfortunate guest, the varta vibigala, seized the vіdvіduvacha, and at the order of the queen they threw yogo into the lake zі skele

And Princess Miguel smiled only at the sight of the wisest zoyka and stood still, as if they were drowning...

I can’t understand now, in some rank, I was sleeping on the thought of my garish life-radius titz, it’s so terrible in fact, such a gloom and an important fairy tale! The heroine of this fairy tale is Tsarina Miguel, obviously, she was a pretty sweet lady, a little windy, and even more kindly aunt Musi. Oh, all the same, don’t let yourself think that the fairy tale is a fairy tale, the queen is the princess Miguel herself, ale there, my miracle princess, miraculously settled in my squirrelly heart ... It’s snuvala if you don’t, like me, to which bula, in fact, on the right , if I loved її, my beautiful zhorstok Miguel! I basked її uvі snі more than once, її golden hair to the color of the swept ear, її green, like a fox vir, deep eyes.

That fate has passed me six years. I already sorted out the warehouses and for the help of aunt Musi I wrote the replacement of the sticks of the kostrubat, nіbito and crooked letters, scho to go. I already understood the beauty. Kazkov's beauty of nature: sun, forest, flowers. My first glance beautiful pictures otherwise the illustration was thinned on the side of the magazine.

Titka Musya, tato and granny did their best for me early century develop in me an aesthetic taste, brutal respect for those who for other children passed without a trace.

Look, Lyusenko, what a garnier zahid of the sun! You bachish, like a miraculous tone at the headquarters of the crimson sun! Marvel, marvel, now water has become red-hot. I need more trees than I will be choked with fire.

I marvel and boil all over with hoarseness. True, red water, red wood and red sun. Yaka beauty!

Y. Yakovlev Girl from Vasilevsky Island

I am Valya Zaitseva from Vasilevsky Island.

I have a little hamster alive. Put on the top of your cheeks, in reserve, sit on your hind legs and marvel at the black horns... Uchora I beat one lad. I forgot the youma of the garnet bream. Mi, Vasileostrіvskі girls, we can fend for ourselves, if necessary ...

It's always windy on Vasilevsky. Sich doshch. Siple wet snow. The veins are trawling. First, our island sails like a ship: levoruch - Neva, right-hander - Nevka, in front - open the sea.

I have a girlfriend - Tanya Savicheva. We are friends with her. Vaughn from the Other Line, Budinok 13. Chotiri vikna on the first version. Poruch bakery, in the basement of the gas store... There is no time for the store, but in Tanya's hour, if there was less in the world, on the first verse, it always smelled of gas. I've been told.

Tanі Savichevіy bulo stіlki w rokіv, skіlki menі now. Vaughn could have been virile a long time ago, become a reader, but forever lost her girlhood ... If my grandmother sent Tanya to the gas, I was gone. I went to the Rumyantsev garden with another girlfriend. But I know everything about her. I've been told.

Vaughn was sleeping. Been sleeping. She wanted to recite the verse, but she stumbled with the words: to stumble, and everyone thinks that she has forgotten the word. My girlfriend slept to the fact that if you sleep, you don’t zaїkaєsh. She couldn’t zakatisya, she was chosen to become a reader, like Linda Avgustivna.

Vaughn always played as a teacher. Dress on the shoulders of a great grandmother's hustka, keep your hands locked and walk from kut to kut. “Children, today we will take care of you with repetitions ...” And here you stumble on words, blackness and turn to the wall, even though there is no one at the room.

It seems that they are doctors, they rejoice at zaїkuvatost. I would know this. Mi, Vasileostrіvskі girls, whom you want to know! But now the drug is no longer needed. Vaughn got lost there... my friend Tanya Savicheva. They were taken from taxed Leningrad to the Great Land, and the road, called the Road of Life, could not give Tanya life.

The girl died of starvation... It's not all the same why die - from hunger, chi are cool. Possibly, it hurts more when you are hungry...

I wished to know the Way of life. I went to Rzhevka, where the road is being repaired. I walked two and a half kilometers - there the lads built a monument to children, as if they were lost in the blockade. I also wanted to be.

Yakis grown up fed me:

- Who are you?

- I'm Valya Zaitseva from Vasilievsky Island. I also want to be.

Meni said:

- You can't! Come with your area.

I didn't go. She looked around and patted the baby, the little button head. I hoarded a new one:

— Do you also come from your own district?

- Vin came with his brother.

Іz brother is possible. Іz the area is possible. How about being alone?

I told them:

- Understand, even I don’t just want to be. I want to be my friend... Tanya Savichevsky.

The stinks wiggled their eyes. They did not believe Chi. Perepitali:

- Is Tanya Savicheva your friend?

- What's so special about it? We are one-year-olds. Offenses from Vasilievsky Island.

- Ale її nemaє ...

How stupid people are, but how grown up! What does “nі” mean, how do we comrade? I said, so that the stench understood:

- We all sleep. І street, І school. We have a hamster. Vin on the cheeks.

I remembered not to believe me. And so they believed the stench, vipalila:

- We have the same handwriting!

- Handwriting? - The stinks squealed even more.

- What? Handwriting!

The stench cheered uncontrollably, in the handwriting:

- Tse duzhe good! Tse directly znahidka. Come with us.

- I'm not going anywhere. I want to be...

- You will wait! You will write for the monument in Taninim handwriting.

“I can,” I agreed. - Only I can't see olives. Duste?

- You write on concrete. Don't write in olive oil on concrete.

I never wrote on concrete. I wrote on the walls, on the pavement, but the stench brought me to a concrete plant and gave Tanin a shtodennik - a note with the alphabet: a, b, c ... I have the same book. For forty kopecks.

I took Tanin's schodennik to the hands and turned aside. It was written there:

I got cold. I wanted to give him a book and drink it.

Hello, I'm Vasileostrivska. And since my elder sister died as a friend, I may be deprived of her, not tikati.

- Let's get your concrete. I write.

The crane lowered to my feet a majestic frame made of thick gray dough. I took a stick, put it on the back and began to write. The concrete felt cold. Writing was important. I was told:

- Don't hurry.

I robbed pardons, smoothed over the concrete, and she wrote again.

I got bad.

- Don't hurry. Write calmly.

While I wrote about Zhenya, my grandmother died.

If you just want to eat, if not hunger, you will sleep the good old day.

I tried to starve from the wound until evening. Viterpila. Hunger - if day after day your head, hands, heart are hungry - everything you can, you are hungry. I'm going hungry, then I'm dying.

Leka mav svіy kut, vіdgorodzheny wardrobes, vіn there armchairs.

Having earned pennies for armchairs, she started. Vin is quiet and short-sighted, in eyepieces, and all rips at his place with his drawing pen. I've been told.

Is de vin dead? Singingly, in the kitchen, where the bourgeois dimila was a small, weak train, they slept, ate bread every day. A small piece, like faces in death. Likiv was rejected for Leka ...

“Write,” I said softly.

At the new frame, the concrete is rіdky, the letters have been recited. The first word died away. I did not want to write yoga again. Alemeni said:

- Write, Valya Zaitseva, write.

I wrote again - "died."

I got tired of writing the word died. I knew that with the skin side of Tanya Savichovy's student, Daedalus became hotter. Vaughn stopped sleeping a long time ago and did not mention what she was zakaєtsya. Vaughn didn't play teacher anymore. Ale did not give up - she lived. They told me... Spring has come. Greened trees. We have a lot of trees on Vasilevsky. Tanya withered, froze, became thin and light. Her hands were trembling and her eyes were ill in the sun. The Nazis drove half of Tanya Savichova, and perhaps more than half. Ale with her was a mother, and Tanya was trembling.

- Why don't you write? - quietly told me. - Write, Valya Zaitsev, more you will catch the concrete.

For a long time I did not dare to enter a side on the letter "M". On the other side, Tanya's hand was written: “Mom, May 13, about 7.30 a.m.

early 1942 rock. Tanya did not write the word "died". She did not have the strength to write the word.

I tightly squeezed my stick and bumped into the concrete. Chi did not look into the box, but wrote as a reminder. Good, we have the same handwriting.

I wrote schosili. The concrete, having become thick, mayzhe caught. Vіn no longer reminded me of letters.

- Can you write more?

- I'll finish it, - I said, and turned around, so that they wouldn't bleed my eyes. Aje Tanya Savicheva is my... girlfriend.

We are of the same age as Tanya, we, Vasileostrіvsk girls, at the same time stand up for ourselves, if necessary. Yakby won’t be Vasileostrіvskaya, Leningradskaya, she wouldn’t have been so wet for a long time. Ale, she lived, otzhe, did not give up!

Turned the "C" side. There were two words: "The Savichevs died."

Turned the side "U" - "All died." The remaining side of Tanya Savichova's student was bula with the letter "O" - "One Tanya has lost."

And I showed that I, Valya Zaitseva, was left alone: ​​without mami, without tat, without sister Lyulka. Hungry. Under shelling.

At the empty apartment on the other line. I wanted to cross the rest of the side, but the concrete hardened, and the stick broke.

I prompted Tanya Savicheva to think: “Why alone?

And I? You have a friend - Valya Zaitseva, your sister from Vasilevsky Island. We'll take you to the Rum'yantsev garden, better, and if it's better, I'll bring granny's hustka from home, and we'll become a teacher, Linda Avgustivna. I have a little hamster alive. I will give yogo tobi for National Day. Chuesh, Tanya Savicheva?

He put his hand on my shoulder and said:

- Let's go, Valya Zaitsev. You ruined everything you need. Dyakuyu.

I did not understand why they seem to me "dark". I said:

- I'll come tomorrow ... without my district. Is it possible, is it possible?

- Come without a district, - they said to me. - Come.

My friend Tanya Savicheva did not shoot with the Nazis and was not a breeder with the partisans. Vaughn just lived in her native place at the best hour. But, perhaps, the fascists didn’t get to Leningrad, because Tanya Savicheva lived in the new and the dwellings of a lot of other girls and cottons, who were so forever deprived of their hour. And today's boys can be friends with them, like I am friends with Tanya.

And to be friends only with the living.

Volodymyr Zheleznyakov "Scarecrow"

In front of me flashed a bunch of their faces, and I was running around in a new one, like a squirrel in a wheel.

I need to drink and drink.

The lads attacked me.

“For the legs її! Valka rehearsed. - For the legs! .. "

The stench knocked me down and grabbed my legs and arms. I kicked and thrashed around, but the stench twisted me and dragged me into the garden.

Zalіzna Button that Shmakov's was worn down, strengthened on the old club. Viyshov Dimko followed them and stood aloof. The scarecrow was in my cloth, behind my eyes, behind my mouth to the vuh. Legs were crushed with panchos, stuffed with straw, hair washes out tufts and looked like feasts. On my neck, to which I had fallen down, there was a tablet with the words: “Sleeped out - Zradnik.”

Lenka closed the door and seemed to be all extinguished.

Mikola Mikolayovich understands that the boundary of її rozpovidі that between її forces has come.

- And the stinks were having fun all the time, - said Lenka. - Stribali and regot:

"Wow, our beauty-ah-ah!"

"Daughter!"

"I came up with it! I came up with it! - Shmakova stabbed with joy. - Hai Dimko slap the bag! .."

I stopped being afraid of the words of Shmakov's words. I thought: if I fire Dimka, then, perhaps, I’ll just die.

And Valka at the same time - he caught up with the first one - having set it down in the ground and sipping a new hmiz.

"I don't have any sirniks," Dimka said softly.

“Then I have є!” - Kudlaty, putting Dimtsі into the hand of the sirnik and pidshtovhnuv yogo until he was down.

Dimka, standing up to the side, lowered her head low.

I died - I checked the rise! Well, I thought, I’ll look around at once and say: “Boys, Lenka is not guilty of anything ... It’s all me!”

"Pip!" - punished Zalizna Button.

I didn't see it and screamed:

"Dimka! Do not need, Dimko-ah-ah-ah! .. "

And vin, like before, standing up like a stuffed animal - I could see his back, vin stooling and looking like a small one. It is possible for the one who fell on the dovgіy club. Tіlki vin buv small and german.

"Well, Somov! - Zalizna Button said. “Go ahead and get to the end!”

Dimka, having fallen on her knees and lowered her head so low, that her shoulders themselves were washing in it, and her head was not visible. Viyshov is like a headless fire. Vіn chirknuv sіrnikom, and polum'ya fire hung over yogo shoulder. Potim jumped and quarrelly saw the kill.

The stench pushed me to the fire. I, without being disturbed, marveled at the half-witted bagat. Didus! I thought about it, like a fire suffocating me, like a fire burning, baking and biting, even though only a whiff of heat reached me.

I screamed, I screamed so hard that the stench let me out uncontrollably.

If the stink let me out, I rushed to the fire and began to spread it with my feet, grabbed it with my hands with my hands - I didn’t want it, so that it burned down. I didn’t want anything terribly!

Dimka was the first to change.

“Ti scho, otyamilsya? - Vіn hopped me by the hand and tried to pull me out of the fire. - It's hot! Whoa, don't you think hot?

I became strong, I easily overcame yoga. She shoved so, that the shkerberd had flown - only five five shone up to the sky. And she herself blew from the fire and began to wave over her head, stepping on everyone. The opudal was already choked with fire, sparks flew in different sides, and all the stench shied away from them.

The stinks broke up.

And I was spinning so, roaring them, that I couldn’t zupinitis in any way, the docks didn’t fall. The instruction with me was lying down. It was scorched, tremtyache in the wind and looked like it was alive.

I lay on my back with flattened eyes. We sweated, smelling of scorching, flattened her eyes - at the bottom of the dimila cloth. I tucked the flies under my hand and again looked up at the grass.

I felt the crunch of the gnats, the crumbs that were moving away, and there was silence.

"Anne of Green Gables" by Lucy Maud Montgomery

It was already clear, if Anya threw herself and strength on her lizhku, ruined marveling at the window, through the flow of a radiant sleepy light, and behind it, white and fluffy on the aphids of a bright-blaky sky.

The first time she won, she could not guess where to know. On the back of the head, the miraculous trembling began to look out, it became better for me to receive it, then a stingy stalker appeared. Tse buli Green Mezzanine, but here they didn’t want to leave it, because there’s not a lad!

Ale bov early, and behind the window stood a cherry, all in bloom. Anya jumped out of her bed and with one stribk stooped to the bіlya vikna. Then she shoved the window frame - the frame gave way with a creak, it hadn't been done for a long time, which, in fact, was true - and sank down on her knees, staring at the scarlet wounds. His eyes shone in the sight of the suffocation. Ah, isn't it miraculous? Hiba tse not a miracle place? Yakby could lose here! Vaughn to reveal what is left. Here is the space to reveal.

The majestic cherry grew so close to winter that її gіlki hії hіlki hії hії hіlki hії budinku. Vaughn was so densely sown with flowers that no single leaf could be seen. From both sides of the booth stretched great orchards, from one side - apple trees, from the other side - cherry trees, all in bloom. The grass under the trees was made yellow in the form of fluffy kulbabs. Trohi far away in the garden one could see bushes of a buzka, all in the crowns of bright purple flowers, and the rankovy wind brought their confusingly licorice aroma to Anina Vikna.

Far beyond the garden, green onions, covered with sap-scented stables, descended to the valley; Behind the valley one could see a hump, greenery and fluffiness in the form of yalins and yalits. In the midst of them, there was a small light, and in the new one, looking through the Syrian mezzanine of that little house, which before the day Anya was looking out from the other side of the Lake of Bliskuchikh Vody.

The great komori and other hospodars' life were seen wickedly, and after them the green fields descended down to the gleaming black sea.

Ani's eyes, gracious to the point of beauty, moved properly from one picture to another, greedily absorbing everything that was in front of her. Bіdolakha in her life bachiled so many sloppy things. But those who appeared before her now, turned over the greatest dreams.

Vaughn stood on the spot, forgetting about everything in the world, the cream of beauty, which she felt, until she shuddered, feeling a hand on her shoulder. The little chula did not chula, as Marila saw.

"It's been an hour to get dressed," said Marilla curtly.

Marila simply didn't know how to speak to a child, and even though I didn't know myself, the unknowingness robbed me of a sharp and fluffy without her will.

Anya got up with a deep zіtkhannyam.

- Ah. hiba tse not miraculous? - she slept, pointing with her hand at the miraculous world beyond the window.

- So, how big is the tree, - said Marilla, - and the flowers are bright, but the cherries themselves are no good - those worms.

— Oh, I'm not just talking about a tree; it’s amazing, it’s more beautiful ... so, it’s more blindly beautiful ... it’s blooming like that, it’s so important for the new one himself ... Ale, I’m small on the vazі everything: the garden, the trees, the strings, and the foxes - a great beautiful world. You do not see such a wound, do you love the whole world? I can smell it here, like a glass of water laughing in the distance. Have you, if ever, marked, yakі radіsnі svorіnnya tsі strumki? The stench will always laugh. Navit uzimku I smell їhnіy smіh z-pіd ice. I'm so glad that here, bіlya Green Mezonіnіv, і strumok. Perhaps you think that it doesn’t matter to me, so you don’t want to leave me here? But not so. I’ll be sure to guess what the green mezzanines were shooting, I won’t play any more than that. Yakby didn’t have a glass here, I’d always go over again, I didn’t feel like I was here. Today's lie I'm not in the abyss of grief. I never go into the abyss of grief of lies. Hiba tse not miraculous, what is the wound? Alemeni is too vague. I only said that you still need me and that I will stay here forever and ever. It was a great vіhoyu tse to reveal. Ale is the best in expressive speeches - those that the moment comes when you have to stop expressing, but even more sore.

“Be better dressed, go downstairs, and don’t think about your eloquent speech,” Marilla respected, as if only he could put in a word in the distance. — Snidanok check. Vmy disguise and hairstyles. We’ll leave it open for a while and open it up lightly, so that it’s aired out. I shvidshe, be kind.

Anya, obviously, could do it fast, if it was necessary, because after ten khvilin she went downstairs, neatly dressed, combed and braided at the braid of her hair, wearing the guise; її soul with whom was followed by the reception, that she victorious all the help of Marilli. Vtіm, for the sake of justice, next to respect, that she still forgot to open it up just for airing.

“I’m already hungry today,” the woman voiced, slicking down on the stele, instructing Marilla. - The world no longer gives up such a gloomy emptiness, like a school in the evening. I'm so glad it's a sleepy wound. Vtіm, I love and doschovі wounds so. Shoranka tsikavo, right? It’s impossible to see who checks on us this day, and there’s so much room for you to see. But I’m glad that I don’t have enough money this year, for that it’s easier not to mess up and to endure the smallness of the share on a sleepy day. I see what I'm going to have to endure today. It’s even easier to read about other people’s misfortunes and show that we could have heroically repaired them, but it’s not so easy if you happen to get right with them, right?

“For God's sake, take care of your language,” said Marilla. “The little girl can’t speak so richly.

Because of this respect, Anya closed the door, it was heard on the floor, that she was moving, that she was trivaying, it became a trifle to fight Marilla, as if it were not familiar to nature. Matthew tezh movchav - ale tse, prinaimnі, boulo naturally - otzhe, snіdanok proyshov from the povnomu movchani.

In the world of that, like a wine approaching to the end, Anya became more and more rosy. Vaughn їla mechanically, and її big eyes neіdrivanno marveled at the sky beyond the window. This made Marila even stronger. She had an unacceptable feeling that at that hour, like the body of this marvelous child was perebubat at the table, the spirit of yogo spread on the wings of fantasy in such a zahmarniy land. Who wants to bi-mother such a child in a booth?

I prote, what was unbugged, Matthew wanted to deprive him of її! Marila observed that you want this year's lie so very strongly, like a school in the evening, and you get away and want it. Tse bula yogo is a remarkable manner - drive yourself into your head like a miracle and cheer for her with an hostile movchasny zazyatist - I’ll get ten times worse and wilder zavdyaki movchannya, lower yakbi vіn talking about your wound.

If the money was gone, Anya went out of her mind and called for the dishes to be eaten.

— You vmієsh miti utensils like slid? - Maryla slept incredulously.

- Enough bad. Truth be told, I'm better at babysitting children. I have a great good fortune in my right. It's a pity you don't have any children here that I could take care of.

- Then I didn’t want to, if there were more children here, less at once. With you alone, enough trouble. I won’t tell Rozum what to do with you. Matthew is so funny.

“I’ve been more than sweet since I’ve been back,” said Anya after the doctor. — Vіn duzhe good-natured and zovsіm not zaperechuvav, even if I said a little bit - youmu tse, yes, it was fitting. I looked into a new controversy soul, as if I babbled yogo.

“Offended you see divaks, as if you were talking about the controversy of souls,” Marilla shoved. “Harazd, you can use the dishes. Do not mess with hot water and show it like a trace. I still have to work today in the morning, because I have a chance to go after an appointment with White Sands - please Mrs. Spencer. You will go with me and there we see that you work with you. If you skimp on dishes, go uphill and lay a bed.

Anya to finish the shvidko and resolutely wiggled the utensils, which was not left without mentioning Marila. Then she made a light bed, though with less success, because she didn’t get into the art of fighting with the feather bed. Ale was still softly laid, and Marila, for the girls to wake up for some hour, said that she would allow her to go to the garden and play there until she was hurt.

Anya rushed to the door, zhvavim chimchiam that syayuchimi eyes. Ale, on the very threshold, she snarled raptly, turned sharply back and the strength beat the table, viraz zahoplennya znik z її disguise, then the wind blew.

- What else was trapilos? Marilla was asleep.

“I don’t dare to leave,” said Anya in the tone of a martyr, like a vision of all earthly joys. “Just as I can’t get enough here, I can’t burrow in the Green Mezzanine. And if I see and get to know these mustache trees, flowers, a garden and a string, I can’t help but love them. I'm so important in my soul, and I don't want it to become even more important. I so want to go out - everything is ready, cry to me: "Anya, Anya, come before us! Anya, Anya, we want to take care of you!" Ale better not robiti tsgogo. Do not varto zakohuvatisya in those, in view of which you should lie down forever, even so? It's so important to get involved and not fall in love, right? Axis why I was so glad, if I thought that I would be stuck here. I thought that there is so much of everything here, that you can fall in love, and nothing can turn me on. Alecia had passed a short dream. Now I have come to terms with my fate, so I won’t go out any sooner. Otherwise, I'm afraid I won't be able to reconcile with him again. How to call this ticket to the mountain worker on the subway, say, be kind?

- Tse geranium.

— Oh, I don’t care about names. I'm on the verge of im'ya, like you were given. Did you give me your name? Can you please me? May I call її… oh, let me think… Darling pidide… can you call me її Darling, while I'm here? Oh, let me be called so!

- For God's sake, it's all the same to me. How about some sense for someone to give im'ya geranium?

- Oh, I love that objects have little names, to wind up like a whole geranium. Tse rob them more like people. Do you know that you don’t get a little bit of geraniums, if you call them just geraniums and nothing more? Adzha did not suit you, the yakbis used to call you just a woman. So, I call її Darling. I gave them this year's money and these cherries under the window of my bedroom. I called її Snow Queen because she was like that. Zvichayno, you won’t be in color, but you can show it, right?

“Never in my life did I drink and didn’t think of anything like that,” Marila muttered, rushing in the flow to the pidval for potatoes. - There's a true cicava, like Matthew, it seems. I already know how to borrow me, what else can I say. Vaughn cast spells on me. I already let them loose on Matthew. Who looked, what a wine he threw at me, if he walked out, again heaving his mustache, talking about what wine he was talking about and pulling on a lesson. Better b vin buv, as іnshі cholovіki, і talking about everything v_dkrit. Then you can bullo b vіdpovіsti i perekonati yogo. But what do you think of as a man, who only marvels at?

If Marila turned around from her pilgrimage to the bottom, she found Anya, as if she fell into a dream again. The girl sat, lowering her chin on her hands and looking up at the sky. So Marila th deprived her of її, until insults appeared on the table.

- Can I take a kobila and a cabriolet for an offense, Matthew? Marilla was asleep.

Matthew nodded and glanced vaguely at Anya. Marila changed her look and said dryly:

— I'm going to go to White Sands and check the food chain. I'll take Anya with me so that Mrs. Spencer can send her back to Nova Scotia in no time. I'll pour your tea on the stove and turn back home like a diyka.

I call Matthew without saying anything. Marila vіdchula, scho for nothing stained words. No one fights like that, like a man, like a man who doesn’t stand up ... a woman, like a woman, doesn’t show up.

In the late hour, Matthew harnessed the nit, and Marilla and Anya were harnessed to the cabriolet. Matthew opened the gates to the yard in front of them, and if the stench passed right along, saying in a loud voice, to no one, give up, not savage:

“There’s one lad here, Jerry Buot of Creek, and I told you that I’ll hire Yogo for the summer.

Marila didn’t swear, but instead she whipped the unfortunate nit with such force that she was knocked down, that she didn’t sound so sure, she violently rushed at a gallop. If the cabriolet was already on the great road, Marilla turned around and chimed that the unbearable Matthew stood, hunched up to the door, and marveled at the favor.

Sergiy Kutsko

VOVKI

So already the power of the village of life, if you don’t see the forest until noon, don’t take a walk with the familiar mushroom and yogіdnym mіsts, then for the evening and nothing, everything will be good.

So one girl reasoned. The sun only rose to the tops of the yalinok, and in the hands there was already a goat, wandered far away, but then mushrooms yaki! From a vdyachnistyu, she marveled at a glance and only a little chose to go, as far away bushes of a nation shuddered, and at the galyavin the viyshov zvir, her eyes chipko stole for the girl.

- Oh, dog! Vaughn said.

Here the cows grazed nearby, and acquaintance in the fox with the gritsik was not a great misfortune for him. Ale zustrіch іz sche kіlkom with pairs of animal eyes led into zatsіpenіnnya.

"Vovki," thought the thought, "the road is not far, bіgti ..." That force arose, the cat miraculously slipped from the hands, the legs became soft and inaudible.

- Mother! - I’m playing this rapt cry, I’m playing, that it’s gone right up to the middle of the galyavin. - People, help! - three times passed over the fox.

And then the shepherds told us: “We heard the cries, they thought the children were playing around…” Five kilometers away from the village, near the fox!

The Vovkas stepped up in full, the Vovchitsa walked in front. Buvay so in tsikh zvirіv - vovchitsa flock on choli graї. Only in her eyes were not so fierce, as if they were vivacious. The stench started asking: “Well, what, people? What are you doing at once, if there are no weapons in your hands, and there are not many of your relatives?

The girl fell to her knees, flattened her eyes with her hands and wept. A thought about prayer came to her in a rush, then it trembled in the soul, then they resurrected the words of the grandmother, the memory of the child: “Ask the Mother of God! ”

The girl did not remember the words of the prayer. Lighting up the hellish banners, she asked Matir God, mute her mother, in the rest of her hope for the intercession of that salvation.

If she flattened her eyes, the wolves, passing by the bushes, went into the forest. Slowly ahead, lowering her head, the she-wolf walked.

Boris Ganago

LEAF TO GOD

Tse became like the nineteenth century.

Petersburg. Day before Christmas. From the inflows dme cold, penetrating wind. Siple dry prickly snow. The hoard of horses clattering along the brooks, the doors of the shops groaning - the rest of the purchases shy away from the saint. Mustache hurry faster to get to the booth.

Only a little lad is deliriously wandering along the snowy streets. The wine is constantly moving away from the intestines of the old coat, the hands are frozen and blackened and smeared with their breath. Then let's shove them deeper in the gut and go further. Axis zupinaєєєєєєєєєєєєєє віля єіні windows of the bakery and look at the display of pretzel and bagels behind the fold.

The doors of the store were opened, letting in a cherg purchase, and the aroma of freshly baked bread sipped from them. The lad convulsively forged his slin, drooped on the floor and shaved far away.

The days are slipping away indefinitely. There are fewer passing daedals. The boy jumps up to wake up, at the windows, which is burning light, and, rising on his back, tries to look inside. Trochs are calling, they are opening doors.

The old clerk was busy at work this year. Youmu has no where to hurry. You have been living alone for a long time, and in the holy place you especially sharply recognize your self-worth. The clerk sat and thought hard about those who didn’t give a damn to you, don’t give gifts to anyone. At this hour the doors were opened. The old pіdvіv ochі і waving the lad.

- Uncle, uncle, I need to write a sheet! - having rinsed the boy quickly.

- Do you have a penny? - Suvoro asked the clerk.

The lad, smikayuchi hat in his hands, zrobyv krok back. And here the self-made clerk guessed that today is the day before the New Year and that you so wanted to make someone a present. Vіn took out a clean arkush paper, soaked the pen in the ink and vivіv: “Petersburg. 6 September. Panu...”

- What is the name of the pan?

- Tse not sir, - the boy muttered, not yet to the end of his luck.

- Oh, tse lady? - grinning, sleeping clerk.

No no! - having rinsed the boy quickly.

Then to whom do you want to write a sheet? - zdivuvavsya old,

- Jesus.

- How do you laugh at a summer person? - the clerk became furious and wanted to show the lads at the door. Ale here sighed in the eyes of the child with tears and guessed that today is the day ahead of Christmas. Yomu felt ashamed for his anger, and already we warmed up the voice of our sleep:

— What do you want to write to Jesus?

- My mother taught me to ask God for help, if it matters. Vaughn said that God's name is Jesus Christ. - The lad fell closer to the clerk and in the distance: - And yesterday she fell asleep, and I can’t wake her up. I can’t get bread at home, I want to eat so much, - I’m winded with tears, which got into my eyes.

- And how do you wake up її? - after sleeping the old one, moving up from his table.

— I kissed you.

- Is she going crazy?

- What are you, uncle, hіba uvі snі dyhayut?

“Jesus Christ has already taken off your leaf,” said the old man, hugging the boy by the shoulders. - Vin told me to dbat about you, and took your mother to myself.

The old clerk thought: “My mother, going to another world, you ordered me to good people and a pious Christian. I have forgotten your order, but now you are not ashamed for me.

Boris Ganago

THE WORD IS SPOKEN

On the outskirts of the great place stood an old little house from the garden. Їх having protected the nadіyny watchman - the intelligent dog Uranus. Vіn daremno nіkoli not barking at anyone, sawingly lashing for the unknown, glad to the rulers.

Ale tsey budinok having spent a pіd znesennya. So the bagmen were ordered to have their apartment in order, and then food began - why work with a vіvcharka? Like a watchman, Uranus is no longer necessary for him, he is no longer a tractor. For a few days, the super-cups were baked about the dog's share. At the vіdchinene in the house to the sentry box, the lamentations of the onuka and the grіznі shouts of the grandfather were often added.

What rozumіv Uranus z slіv, scho valley? Who knows...

Only the bride and onuk commemorated, as if they blamed you for the hedgehog that the dog's bowl was so full of unborrowed more doby. Uranus is not їv i in the coming days, like yoga was not inspired. Vin no longer wagged his tail, if they walked up to a new one, and navіt having looked dead, no longer wonder at people, like he was happy for Yogo.

The bride-to-be, as if she was checking the recession and the recession, admitted:

Why didn't Uranus fall ill? Gospodar threw in his heart:

- It would be better from Bulo, the yakby dog ​​himself will die. I wouldn’t have had a chance to shoot just one.

The bride trembled.

Uranus, marveling at the one who said with a glance, what kind of ruler then did not forget for a long time.

Onuk, having washed the veterinarian's susis, marveled at his lover. Ale, the veterinarian, without revealing any illness, only thoughtfully said:

- It’s possible, you’ve got confused about it ... Uranus died unhappily, until his very death, the thieves with their tail were less than the bride of the Onukov, who saw Yogo.

And the master at night often gazing at the glance of Uranus, which once served him as a rock. The old man had already complained about the zhorstoki words that they drove the dog in.

Ale hiba said to turn?

And who knows how the voiced evil hurt the onuk, who was tied to his chotiri-pawed friend?

And who knows, like that, spreading around the world like a radio broadcast, vplyne on the souls of children who have not yet been born, future generations?

Words live, words don't die...

In the old booklet, it was revealed: in one of the girls, tato died. The girl was running after him. Vіn zavzhdi be gentle with her. Tsієї warmth їy did not hang.

As if dreaming about him and saying: now be kind to people. A good word to serve Eternity.

Boris Ganago

MASHENKA

Svyatkov's rose

As it was a rich fate, the girl Masha was mistaken for an Angel. It became so.

There were three children in one weekday. My tato died, my mother worked as hard as she could, and then fell ill. The hut did not lose a single cry, but I wanted so much. What work?

Viyshla mother nadvir and began to beg for mercy, but people, not pomіchayuchi її, passed poz. Rizdvyana was approaching, and the woman’s words: “I beg you not, my children ... for the sake of Christ! ” drowned at the pre-Svyatkovy metushni.

She went to the church and began to ask for help from Christ Himself. Who else did you have to ask?

The axis is here, beating the icon of the Savior, Masha patted the woman, who stood on her knees. Revealing її Bulo filled with tears. The girl never suffered such suffering before.

Masha is small with a wondrous heart. If they were glad, I wanted to stribati for good luck. Ale, if someone was more sore, she couldn’t get past and fed:

What's wrong with you? Why are you crying? I someone else's bіl penetrating at її heart. Axis and now she has shrunk to a woman:

Are you famous?

And if she shared her dashing with her, Masha, as if she had never experienced hunger in her life, she showed herself three lonely ones, as if they hadn’t succumbed to hedgehogs for a long time. Not zamyslyuyuchis, she went to the women five karbovantsiv. That was all її pennies.

At that hour, there was a significant sum, and the woman's face began to shine.

Where is your booth? - Masha asked goodbye. With a miracle, she recognized that she was alive by the court of justice. The girl did not understand how it is possible to live near the basement, but she knew for sure what it was necessary for her to make that holiday evening.

Happy mother, like on wings, flew home. Vaughn bought a hedgehog at a nearby store, and the children snickered at her.

Nezabar lit the fire and boiled the samovar. The children were greedy, they were nurtured, they were born. Steele, forcings even, bov for them is not a saint, may be a diva.

But then Nadya, the hireling, asked:

Mom, is it true that God sends power to the children of the Angel in Christmas, and that one should bring them rich gifts?

Mom miraculously knew that there were no checks for guests. Glory to God and for those who have already given me Vіn: usі sіtі і zіgrіtі. Ale, little ones, little ones. I so wanted the mother on Rizdvyane to have a holy yalinka, the same as all other children have. What could she say to them, motherfucker? Zruinuvat child vіru?

The children warily marveled at her, looking at the evidence. І mother confirmed:

It's true. Ale Angel to come only until quiet, who with all his heart believe in God and with a wide heart pray to Yomu.

And with all my heart I believe in God and with a wide heart I pray to Yom, - Nadya did not enter. - Give us wine and send us Your Angel.

Mom didn't know what to say. Silence fell near the room, only the polynies crackled in rudeness. I raptom prolunav stukіt. The children shuddered, and the mother crossed herself and with a three-handed hand opened the door.

On the threshold stood a little blond-haired girl Masha, and behind her - a bearded man with a yalinka in his hands.

With the Ridve of Christ! - Mashenka welcomed the gentlemen cordially. The children froze.

As long as the bearded man had installed the yalinka, the nanny's car with a great cat was up to the brook, and gifts immediately began to appear. The little ones couldn't believe their eyes. But no stink, no mother suspected that the girl had given them her yalinka and her gifts.

And if the guests didn’t come, Nadya slept:

Tsya girl and was an angel?

Boris Ganago

RETURN TO LIFE

Behind the motives of the confession of A. Dobrovolsky "Serezha"

Ring the lizhka of the brothers stood in order. But if Sergiy fell ill on the burning of legends, Sashka was moved to another room and the little one was harrowed. Tilki asked to pray for a brother, who was getting older and older.

As if in the evening Sashko looked sick at the room. Sergius was lying with his flattened eyes, that they didn’t drink anything, and he was almost dead. Cheering, the lad rushed to the office, from which the voices of the fathers rang out. The doors were repaired, and Sasha, feeling like a mother, crying, said that Sergiyko was dying. Batko is sick of his voice:

- Why are you crying now? Yogo can't be saved.

In a fever, Sashko rushed to the sister's room. There was no one there, and I was guilty of falling on my knees in front of the icon Mother of God hang on the wall. Cryingly sobbing words broke through:

“Lord, Lord, strike so that Sergius does not die!”

The appearance of Sasha Bulo filled with tears. For a moment everything spilled out, like a fog. The boy bachiv in front of him is the face of the Mother of God. It felt like time to wake up.

- Lord, You can do everything, save Sergiyko!

It's getting dark already. Znesileniy, Sashko moved with the corpse and lit the floor lamp. Before her lay the Gospel. The lad turned over the sprinkling of sides, and raptly glanced at the row: "Go, and as you see, let you be..."

Nemov, feeling the order, went to Seryozha. Mom was sitting on the bed of the mother's brother. Vaughn gave a sign: “Don’t dance, Sergiy, having fallen asleep.”

The words of the boulli were imovlenі, the ale cei sign of the buv, like a promin nadії. Falling asleep - means alive, means alive!

Three days later, Sergius was already sitting by the bed for a moment, and the children were allowed to go to him. The stench brought the brother's beloved toys, fortress and budinochki, like wines to the ailment, virizav and gluing, - everything that could please the little one. The sister, with a great baby, came to Sergius, and Sasha, happily, took a picture of them.

Tse buli miti right happiness.

Boris Ganago

YOUR BIRD

Weeping from the nest of a bird - to our little, hopelessly, winding chickens have not yet grown. You can’t do anything, only squeak and dziobik open - ask.

They took yoga lads and brought it to the hut. They made you a nest with grass and a little chick. Vova gave birth to a baby, and Ira blew it and blamed it on the sun.

The bird was not a bad thing, and the deputy of the garmat at the new one became the feasts of the virostat. The lads knew an old bird's cage on the mountain, and for the sake of pride they planted their lover in it - already already standing up to look at the new whale. For days on end, I beat the doors, I checked the moment of the handy check. And skilki yogi children did not persecute, the bird's eye did not look.

Summer has flown by. Birds in the eyes of the children grew and began according to the call of literature. And suddenly it became crowded in youmu. If they brought the cage over the door, they fought against the bars and asked to be free. Axis and vyrishili lads let their vihovantsa go. Obviously, it was not easy for them to part with him, but they couldn’t stink to the will of the one who was created for good.

Like a sony wound, the children said goodbye to their lover, brought the cage by the door and made it. The bird froze on the grass and looked around at its friends.

At this moment, a whale appeared. Taking a breath at the bushes, getting ready for a haircut, rushing, ale ... The bird flew high and high ...

The Holy Elder John of Kronstadt, having spoiled our soul with a bird. For the soul of the skin, the enemy is poured, you want to sleep. Back to back, the soul of a human being is like a bird that cannot be leaned on, hopeless, unable to fly. How can we save її, like virosity, so that it doesn’t break on the gostra stone, doesn’t waste the catch in the net?

The Lord, having created a saving fence, for what growth and mіtsnіє our soul, - God's order, the Church is holy. At her soul to climb gold high-high, up to the very sky. I know there is such a light of joy, that none of the earthly cities are terrible.

Boris Ganago

LYUSTERCO

Mottled, mottled, coma,

Minus, the peak is crooked.

Club, club, ogirochok -

Axis and viyshov cholovichok.

Three times over, Nadia finished the little ones. Let's be afraid, scho її not ozumіyut, signed under him: "Tse I". Vaughn respectfully glanced at her vitvir and virishila that she didn’t get anything.

The young artist went to the mirror and began to look at herself: what else do you need to do at home, so that you could instantly understand who the images are in the portrait?

Nadya even loved to climb in and spin around in front of the great mirror, tried different haircuts. How many times did the girl reconcile her mother's droplet from the veil.

I wanted to look mysterious and romantic, like long-legged girls, to show fashion on TV. Nadya showed herself to be mature, cast a stern look into the mirror and tried to walk like a fashion model. The viishlo was not so beautiful, but if it chirped sharply, it dropped a drop on its nose.

Good, no one is bachiv її at once. We laughed from bi! Zagalom, I didn’t deserve to be a fashion model.

The girl took a cap, and then she glanced at Grandma's hat. Without getting involved, she reconciled її. I froze, crying out marvelously: like two drops of water, she looked like her grandmother. She hasn't had a rash yet. Boowai.

Now Nadya knew what she would become through a lot of rock. It's true, the future was given to me far away.

Nadі became aware of why the grandmother loved her so much, why, with the lowest sum, she kept for її windings and kradkom zіthaє.

Crooks pierced. Nadia put her hat curtly on a plate and ran to the door. On the porozі vona zustrіla ... to herself, only not so chewy. And the axis of the eyes was familiar the same way: in a childish way, the radiance of the radiance.

Nadya hugged her future and quietly asked:

Granny, is it true that in childhood you were me?

Grandmother mumbled, then laughed enigmatically and took the old album from the police. Turning over a handful of sides, she showed a photograph of a little girl who looked like Nadia.

The axis I was.

Oh, really, you look like me! - the onuka whimpered at the capture.

Or maybe you look like me? - slyly reconciled, the grandmother slept.

Tse is not important, who is similar to whom. Golovne - similar, - did not give a little.

Hiba not important? And you wonder who I looked like...

І granny began to sing the album. There weren’t too many of them there. I don't care! I skin bulo in its own way. Calm, coolness and warmth, which scho vyprominyuvali, attracted glance. Nadya remembered that all the stinks - little children and gray old people, young ladies and young women - were similar one to one ... and to her.

Tell me about them,” the girl asked.

Grandmother squeezed her blood to herself, and strummed a tale about her family, which came from a long time ago.

Already the hour of cartoons had come, but the girls did not want to marvel at them. Vaughn exclaimed marvelously that it was a long time ago, but still alive in it.

Do you know the history of your children, ancestors, the history of your family? Maybe, what is the history and is your mirror?

Boris Ganago

Papugay

Petya loitering around the hut. All the games came up. Then my mother gave instructions to go to the store and said more:

Our sister Maria Mykolaivna broke her leg. There is no one to buy this bread. Ledve on kіmnati shifting. Come on, I'll phone and find out if I can buy something.

Titka Masha zvinku zradila. And if the boy brought a whole bag of products to him, she didn’t know how to do it to you. Chomus showed Petya the empty cage, in which the parrot was not long alive. That buv її friend. Titka Masha watched over, shared her thoughts, and saw her and flew. Now there is no one to say a word to, there is no one to talk about. And what kind of life is it, if there is no one to talk about?

Petya marveled at the empty cell, at the police, showing how titka Mania scrambled around the empty apartment, and the thought fell on you without a thought. On the right, in that, having taken pennies for a long time, they gave you for toys. All without knowing anything adventitious. I now have a wonderful idea - buy a daddy for Masha's aunt.

Saying goodbye, Petya jumped over the door. Yomu wanted to go to the pet store, where there are a lot of different daddies. But now, Masha’s eyes are marveling at them. With which of them could she be friendly? Maybe, tsey pidide, maybe, tsey?

Petya won a sum of money about the vt_kach. The coming day of wines, saying to mom:

Call tittsі Masha ... Maybe, is it necessary?

Mama froze, then pressed her son to her and whispered:

The axis and you become a human being ... Peter formed himself:

And if I hadn’t been a human before?

Boow, awesome, boow,” Mom laughed. “Just now your soul has slipped through… Thank God!”

And what is a soul? - alert boy.

Tse building kokhati.

Mom looked drunkenly at Sin:

Can you call yourself?

Petya got angry. Mom took the earphone: Marie Mikolayivno, vibachte, Petya has a question for you. I'll give you a hearing aid right away.

Here it was already going nowhere, and Petya began mumbling:

Aunt Masha, can you buy something?

What happened to the other country, Petya did not understand, only the sus_dka spoke in a seemingly inaudible voice. She chimed in and asked to bring milk, as if she was going to the store. Nothing more is needed. I chimed in again.

When Petya telephoned to his apartment, he felt the quavering knock of the militia. Titka Masha did not want to zmushuvat yoga check for a second.

While the woman was joking about pennies, the lad nibi inadvertently became a drinker about a shriveled parrot. Titka Masha eagerly spoke about the color, and about the behavior.

At the pet store of such parrots, a sprat appeared behind the color of the parrots. Petya has chosen for a long time. If you brought your own gift, titts Masha, then ... I do not presume to describe what was given.

One shidny sir, having had a terrible dream, nibi in the new one, one by one, mustache teeth fell out. At a strong hvilyuvanni vin, having called to himself a tlumach dream. That visluhav yogo turbovano and saying:

Volodar, I am obliged to send you a sum call. You will spend one by one with your loved ones.

These words called out the wrath of the Volodar. Having punished you, throw yourself at the unfortunate and call the other tlumach, like a dream, having heard it, saying:

I'm happy to send you a radio call - you will survive your life ...

Do you ever get a bugger to call for the next hour? Start at home, and do not pick up the phone, do not open the door, if only for one day. Forget about everything, just take it in yourself, don’t be a little bit and don’t know what the call is.

Reply. vіdpochivati ​​і body, і soul. I want to lose my mind. Drink ... Drink without saying goodbye, drink like that, so that everyone forgets about you, well, if only for one day! Why is it not possible? Why do you need to spin around the circle of life? Need to spin around like a...

Life turned into a ring.
Your eyes behind the tinted slope
Mustache to shout to me: “Trimay її! Trimay,
Until the end of the day, you haven’t slithered out!
I hear your cry sumnimi ochima
I understand... If it won't be like this earlier.
Don't turn me around.
It doesn't knock on me newbie
Surrealistic Dіd Frost
With a scarlet hat shouldered over the pottilice
With a pom-pom, what a ridiculously nabіk has healed.
Namely, painfully gifted gift
For prokovtnuty bіl i razderte on ...

Molodiy Chernets Buv Shawlii, Bin Viriv. If you win, then bachish. Yakos vіn vipav іz vіkna і breaking on the stone of the monastery.

An angel with a cloud of fire, - with pity they said єzuїti, pokituyuchi head.

And the soul of yoga lifted.

Vin stand at the raincoat alone on the road. Frowning. Ment.
Above it is a tree. And on the tree there is the same frowning humpback. The stinks are so similar.

Gorobets did not get involved and guessed the youma on his shoulder. Ment zdivuvavsya. Lifting the guise. Vin tired look up. Vіn rozmіyavsya. Gorobets...

I dedicate to my souls
obsessed with greed
Do you understand what you are talking about and what are you talking about, what are you asking? Do you feel yourself? Listen to what you are talking about and what you are asking, listen to your words, to your words. Wonder how you live and what you work. On what you have changed and on what you have changed your life. Marvel at yourself and your life on the side. Marvel at your life with the eyes of a third-party person. Assess the situation that has developed. Let's...

1
The sun, looking out from behind the dash, began to heat up the white glossy air. Behind one's back, for a long time, three foolish women were talking about God. Half-heartedly, smiling nervously, I reluctantly listened to my empty balakanini, but after a certain hour it drowned in my thoughts, and changed for me on the soundless sound of ashes, from whichever, in the meantime, they vibrated okremі words, such as: "vira", " sisters", "servants". I bit my lip on the back, so as not to build into the present day a conversation and not again ...

Future Earth - the reference of Venus - all in one.

The end of the Cosmic Ієrarkhії – Urusvati.
Heavenly Daphi is consecrated.
erasing the cordons between today and tomorrow.
There is no change at Lyubov.
Life comes from the Ocean of primordial waters. First, Lyubov enters the land, to breathe the Soul into life. Kokhannya - cosmic Im'ya life.

Love May 7 Superconductors. Ti bula Somoi from them. Between me, that land was laid by You; You know, what a dayless...

On Earth, the ocean divides us. Mi...

V. Rozov "Wild pitching" from the cycle "Dotik before the war")

Years were bad, always wanted to eat. Some people gave zhu once for production, that one in the evening. Oh, how I wanted to eat! And the axis of one of these days, if the day was already approaching, and there was no more crying in the company, we, the man of the great warriors, sat on the tall grassy birch and the quiet river and did not fall off a little. Raptom bachimo, without a tunic. Shchos trimming in the hands. One more of our comrades will live before us. Pidbig. The person is lying. Twisting is the whole tunic, and in it you are curled up.

Marvel! - we can wiggle Boris. Unfold the tunic, and in it ... wild pitching is alive.

Bachu: sit, take a drink at the bush. I took off my shirt and - hop! Ezha! Let's put it on.

The jock was German, young. Turning her head on all sides, she marveled at us with her twinkling beady eyes. Vaughn simply could not comprehend what a marvelous thing to feel and marvel at her with such hoarding. Vaughn didn’t twist, didn’t quack, didn’t pull her strained neck, so that she could slip out of her hands, so that she was trimmed. No, she looked around gracefully and cackling. Pretty chick! And we are rude, uncleanly shorn, hungry. Mustache admired the beauty. And it was a wonder, like a good Kazakh. Just by saying:

Allowed!

A bunch of logical replicas were thrown, to the kshtalt: “What's the use, we have a man, but she’s so small”, “Go ahead!”, “Borya, bring її back.” And, already without groaning, Boris dbaily rolled back. Turning around saying:

I її let the water go. Nirnula. And de virinula, not bachiv. Chekav, chekav, schob marvel, ale without swaying. Already dark.

If life is winding up for me, if you start to curse everyone and everything, you spend faith in people and you want to shout, as if I once felt the cry of one at home people: "I don't want to be with people, I want with dogs!" - the axis of the qi hvilini zneviri that rozpachu I will guess the wild pitching and I think: nі-nі, you can believe in people. Tse everything will pass, everything will be fine.

I can say; “Well, ce buli vie, intellectuals, artists, we can talk about you.” No, in the war everything was mixed up and changed on one target - the one invisible. Accept that, de I served. There were two villains in our group, who were let out of the bells and whistles. One of the pride rozpovіd, like youmu vdaloslos vpіdіomniy faucet. Mabut, buv talented. Ale y vin saying: "Let me in!"

______________________________________________________________________________________

Parable about life - Life values

Like one wise man, standing in front of his teachings, having grown so. Vіn having taken the great glass of the vessel and filling it to the brim with great stones. Zrobivshi tse, vin energized uchniv, chi povna vessel. The mustache confirmed that there were no accidents.

Then the wise man took a box with dribnimi kaminchikami, visipov її in utensils and kіlka razіv lightly shaking yogo. Stones roamed in gaps between great stones and filled them. After the next wine, I again energized the students, now the ship is full. The stench confirmed the fact again - again.

I, nareshti, the sage took a box with squeak from the table and hung from the vessel. Pisok, obviously, filling the rest of the gaps at the vessel.

Now, - the sage turned to learning, - I want to be, so that you could recognize your life in this vessel!

Great stones make important speeches in life: your family, your kohana people, your health, your children - those speeches, like, don’t decide, they can still remind you of your life. Dribni kamintsі are less important speeches, such as, for example, your robot, your apartment, your booth or your car. The sand symbolizes the life of rubbish, everyday trash. If you fill your vessel with a piping bag, then you won’t be left with a place for a large stone.

So it is in life - if you spend all your energy on rubbish speeches, then nothing will be left for great speeches.

For this, give respect to us in front of you in an important speech - know the hour for your children and kokhanih, look after your health. You still have enough time left for work, for home, for Christmas and other things. Follow your great stones - only the stench weighs the price, everything else is less than sand.

A. Green. red windows

Vaughn's strength, lifting her legs, with her hands on the knees. Respectfully huffing up to the sea, she marveled at her great eyes, in which nothing grown up was left, - the eyes of a child. Everything that she had minted so long and hotter, scurried there - at the end of the world. Vaughn bachila in the distant countryside dayless underwater hump; on the surface, curly dews streaked uphill; in the middle of their round leaf, pierced by the edge of the stem, shone chimerical flowers. The upper leaves shone on the surface of the ocean; the one who didn’t know anything, as Assol knew, having only a thrill and a glimmer.

A ship rose from the overgrowth; vіn splivі і zupinivsya on sіnkіy sredinі zorі. Z tsієї gave yogo Bulo can be seen clearly, like a gloomy. Rozkidayuchi fun, wine palav, like wine, trojan, shelter, mouth, red oxamite and red fire. Ship ishov straight to Assol. Crila stumps tripped under the oppressive onslaught of the yogo keel; already, having risen, the girl pressed her hands to her breasts, like a wonderful lady of light passed into the bridge; the sun shone, and brightly the wound began to twist from the mustache, which was still basking, stretching on the sleepy earth.

The girl sighed and looked around. The music closed, but Assol was still under the control of the ringing choir. Tse hostility gradually weakened, then it became a spogad and I simply came across myself. Vaughn lay down on the grass, sighed and, blissfully flattening her eyes, fell asleep - in a right way, mіtsnim, like a young mountain, sleep, without turbot that dream.

I was awakened by a fly that was wandering on my bare feet. Restlessly twirling her leg, Assol threw herself; seated, she stabbed her hair out of her hair, guessing Gray's ring about herself, and then piercing it no more, like a stalk, which she got stuck between her fingers, she straightened them; She didn’t break the shards, she impatiently raised her hand to her eyes and stood up, shrugging her shoulders with the force of the fountain, like a breeze.

Gray's exchanger's ring shone on her fingers, as if on someone else's, - she could not recognize her own at that moment, she did not see her own finger. - “What is the thing? Whose heat? she screamed. - Hiba am I sleeping? Maybe you knew and forgot? Hoping with her left hand to the right, on a splendid boulder, she looked around with wonder, rolling the sea with that green overgrowth; but no one stumbled, no one dwelt in the bushes, and in the blue, far clear sea there was no sign, and the blush covered Assol, and the voices of the heart said “so”. There was no explanation for the one who was trapilos, but without words and thoughts she knew them in a wonderful way, and the hoop became close to her. All tremtyachi, zirvala yogo from the finger; trembling in the press, like water, she looked at yoga out - with all the soul, with all the heart, with the triumphs and clear zabobon of youth, sweat, having hidden behind the bodice, Assol buried the guise in the valley, behind which a grin was unimaginably torn, and, lowering her head, povіno walked the road back.

So, - vipadkovo, as people seem, they can read and write, - Gray and Assol knew one lie summer day total inevitability.

"A note". Tetyana Petrosyan

The note is small and looks small.

Behind all gentlemen's laws, she has a small ink peak and a friendly explanation: "Sidoriv is a goat."

So Sidorov, without suspecting the filthy thing, mittevoly ignited the messenger ... and stopped.

In the middle, in a great beautiful handwriting, it was written: "Sidoriv, ​​I love you!".

The roundness of Sidorov's handwriting was impressive. Who wrote youma like that?

(Like the stench sounded laughed. Ale a second time - no.)

Natomist Sidorov once reminded that Vorobyov should not immediately marvel at something. Not just to marvel, but to the meanings!

There were no sums: the note was written by a woman. And then go out, what should Vorobyov love?

And here Sidorov's thought went into the absence of life and began to thrash about recklessly, like a fly in a glass. WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO LOVE??? What are the consequences to cause and how now to Sidorov's buti?

"It's logical," said Sidorov, logically. "What, for example, do I love? Pears!

At that moment, Vorobyova turned around again to the new one and licked her lips bloodily. Sidorov zadubiliy. Youmu rushed to the vechi її for a long time not having a haircut ... well, right, blue eyes! Chomus guessed that, like at the sideboard, Vorobyova greedily hung her bony chicken leg.

“It’s necessary to take it into your hands,” taking Sidorov into your own hands. (Hands appeared grotesque. Ale Sidorov ignoring the dribnitsa.) “I love not only pears, but also fathers. "Mom bakes licorice cakes. I often wear tato on my shoulders. And I love them for that reason..."

Here Vorobyova turned around again, and Sidorov pondered hard that he would now have a chance to eat licorice cakes for her and wear її to school on his shiї, in order to be true to such a rapt and shalen kohannya. I was surprised and revealed that Vorobyova is not thin and it will be, perhaps, not easy to carry.

“Not everything has been spent yet,” Sidorov did not hesitate. “I also love our dog Bobik. and then we’ll take you for a walk, mittingly for the behavior and not letting you wiggle either to the right or to the left.

"... I love Murka's gut, especially if it's right at the ear ... - at Sidorov's roaring minds, - no, not the same ... I like to catch flies and put them in a bottle ... but it's already too much ... "I love toys, so you can be crazy and wonder what's in the middle..."

Seeing the rest of the thought, Sidorov felt bad. Poryatunok buv less in one. Vіn kvaplivo virvav arkush іz zoshita, clenching his lips and in a firm handwriting vivіv grіznі words: "Vorobiova, I love you the same." Let it be scary.

________________________________________________________________________________________

The candle burned. Mike Gelprin

The twinkle has passed, if Andriy Petrovich has already spent every hope.

Hello, I'm out of my mind. Do you give literature lessons?

Andriy Petrovich was surprised to see the videophone screen. Man pіd thirty. Suvoro robes - a suit, a bed. Smile, but your eyes are serious. Andriy Petrovich's heart skipped a beat, deafening the wines vivishuvay at the yard more than a ring. For ten years there were six calls. Three had mercy on the number, two more insurance agents, as if they were practicing the old way, and one had strayed literature with ligature.

I give lessons, - stammering in praise, Andriy Petrovich said. - H-at home. Literature is calling you?

Clue, - nodding the speaker. My name is Maxim. Let me know, think about it.

"For nothing!" - little did not rush into Andriy Petrovich.

Payment is pogodinna - zmusiv yourself to change the wine. - For housekeeping. If you would like to share?

I, my goodness… – the spymaster hesitated.

Let's go tomorrow, - Maxim said harshly. - On the tenth day of the day you are in power? Until nine, I take the children to school, and then I am free until two.

Vlashtu, - congratulations Andriy Petrovich. - Write down the address.

Say, I'll remember.

In the middle of the night, Andriy Petrovich did not sleep, walking around the crying rooms, maybe the cell, not knowing where to put his hands, what to tremble in the experience. Axis has been alive for twelve years to help me. Since that day, they called Yogo.

You must be a high fahivets, - having said that, with good eyes, the director of the lyceum for children from humanist impudence. - We appreciate you as a confirmed vikladach, but your subject, sorry. Tell me, do you want to change your mind? Vartist navchannya lyceums instantly and often pay. Virtual ethics, the foundations of virtual law, the history of robotics - all of them could have been illustrative. Navit kіnematograf is still popular. Youmu, of course, lost a lot of money, but on your age ... How do you care?

Andriy Petrovich thought about his mischief with the year. new job it was not possible to know, literature was lost in treatment initial mortgages, the rest of the libraries were crying, philologists one by one were re-qualified anyway. Kіlka rokіv vіn knocking the thresholds of gymnasiums, lyceums and special schools. Let's pin it down. Washing up the pіvroku at the retraining courses. If the squad went, throwing them.

The guards ran out of steam, and Andriy Petrovich had a chance to tighten his belt. Let's sell the aeromobile, the old one, the scarlet one. Antiquarian service, which was filled with views of mothers, followed by speeches. And then ... Andriy Petrovich was chirping, if he guessed about it, then a whole load of books came. Old-fashioned, tovstikh, paper tezh in the form of mothers. For rarities, collectors gave good money, and Count Tolstoy also spent a whole month. Dostoyevsky - two types. Bunin - repeat.

As a result, Andriy Petrovich was left with five hundred books - the most beloved, re-read a dozen times, quietly, with which they did not instantly separate. Remarque, Hemingway, Marquez, Bulgakov, Brodsky, Pasternak... Books stood on the dresser, occupying the shelves, Andriy Petrovich drank while erasing from the roots.

“It’s like a lad, Maxime,” Andriy Petrovich thought bleakly, nervously walking from wall to wall, “like wine ... Then, it’s possible, you can go and buy Balmont back. Abo Murakami. Abo Amadou."

Drіbnitsі, zrozumіv Andriy Petrovich raptovo. It doesn’t matter, chi vdassya v_dkupit. Vin can be transferred, the axis is not, the axis is the only important one. Pass! Pass on to others those that you know, those that you can.

Maxim rang at the door exactly about the tenth, whiling for whiling.

Come in, - Andriy Petrovich flustered. - Sit down. Axis, vlasne ... Why would you like to start?

Maxim pom'yavsya, carefully sіv on the edge of the style.

Why do you care about your needs. Understand, I'm a layman. Povniy. They didn't teach me anything.

Well, well, well, - Andriy Petrovich nodded. - Yak and all else. At spiritual education schools Literature is not published for perhaps a hundred years. And at the same time, they no longer bid at the special ones.

Nowhere? - sleeping Maxim quietly.

I'm afraid it's nowhere. Understand, for example, the twentieth century began a crisis. There was no reading. For children, then the children grew up, and when their children began to read. Even more, lower fathers. Other nasolodi showed up - more importantly, virtual. Games. Be like tests, quests ... - Andriy Petrovich waving his hand. - Well, well, technology. Technical disciplines began to take over the humanities. Cybernetics, quantum mechanics and electrodynamics, physics high energy. And literature, history, geography moved into the background. Especially literature. You stezhite, Maxime?

So, go ahead, be kind.

At the twenty-first century, books ceased to be corrupted, papier was replaced by electronics. Ale and in the electronic version will drink on the literature falling - strimko, in the case of the skin of the new generation, equally with the previous one. As a result, the number of writers changed, then they disappeared - people stopped writing. The philologists spent a hundred years farther away - for a piece of paper written twenty centuries ago.

Andriy Petrovich, the castle, wiped his forehead with a rapt hand.

It’s not easy for me to talk about you, - having said wine you’ve come. – I will confirm that the process is lawful. Literature died to those who did not get used to progress. Ale, children, you understand... Children! Literature was bula scho, which molded the mind. Especially poetry. Tim, which signified the inner light of a person, її spirituality. Children grow up unspiritual, it's scary, it's scary, Maxime!

I myself gave such a visnovka to Andriy Petrovich. I myself turned back to you.

Do you have children?

So, - Maxim sumіv. - Two. Pavlik and Anechka, good weather. Andriy Petrovich, I need more than Asia. I know the literature in the measure, I read it. I need to know what. І on scho slander. Will you teach me?

So, - Andriy Petrovich said firmly. - Navchu.

Vin moved, clasping his hands on his chest, looking up.

Pasternak, - saying wine urochisto. - Kreyda, kraida all over the earth, at all borders. The candle burned on the table, the candle burned.

Will you come tomorrow, Maxime? - swearing at the tremtinnya in the voice, energizing Andriy Petrovich.

Not at all. Just an axis ... You know, I work as a steward at a possible family bet. I lead the state, do justice, I sing rahunki. I have a low salary. Ale, I, Maxim obvіv ochima primіschennya, I can bring products. Deyakі speech, perhaps, pobutovu tehnіku. Pay at the rahunki. Do you rule?

Andriy Petrovich Yogo would rule and for nothing.

Zvichayno, Maxime, - having said wine. - Dyakuyu. Checking you tomorrow.

Literature - not only about what is written, - Andriy Petrovich said, walking around the room. - Tse sche yak written. Mova, Maxime, that same instrument, as the great writers of that poetry were singed. Ax listen.

Maxim was listening intently. It was given, you are reminded of the vin, remember the promo voucher.

Pushkin, - Andriy Petrovich said and began to recite.

"Tavrida", "Anchar", "Eugene Onegin".

Lermontov "Mtsiri".

Baratinsky, Yesenin, Mayakovsky, Blok, Balmont, Akhmatova, Gumilyov, Mandelstam, Visotsky…

Maxim heard.

Chi not tired? - feeding Andriy Petrovich.

Nі, nі, scho vy. Continue, be kind.

The day is changing new. Andriy Petrovich moved forward, having thrown himself to life, in which the sensuality unexpectedly appeared. Poetry was changed by prose, more time was spent on it, but Maxim appeared as a learned teacher. Shoplyuvav vіn liota. Andriy Petrovich, without ceasing to marvel, like Maxim, deaf to the word, that he doesn’t accept, doesn’t understand the contribution to the language of harmony, touched the skin day and knew better, deeper, lower at the front.

Balzac, Hugo, Maupassant, Dostoyevsky, Turgenev, Bunin, Kuprin.

Bulgakov, Hemingway, Babel, Remarque, Marquez, Nabokov.

In the eighteenth century, nineteen, twenty.

Classics, literature, science fiction, detective story.

Stevenson, Twain, Conan Doyle, Sheckley, Strugatsky, Vinery, Japriso.

Yakos, by Wednesday, Maxim did not come. Andriy Petrovich spent the whole morning in his glasses, telling himself that he would fall ill that moment. Not a moment, whispering inner voice, stubborn and stupid. Scrupulously pedantic Maxim is not an instant. In the same time for the second time, I didn’t fall for the whilin. And then call without calling. Nadvechir Andriy Petrovich no longer knew his own place, and at night he did not look away. Until the tenth morning, the wines sounded residually, and if it became clear that Maxim would not come again, pishov to the videophone.

The number of inclusions in the service, - rose a mechanical voice.

The next few days passed like one filthy dream. To love the books did not cry out in the sight of a severe tightness and a sense of vlasnoi worthlessness, which reappeared, about the yak Andriy Petrovich did not guess the second fate. Call the hospitals, morgues, obtrusively buzzing at the closet. What to sleep? Abo about whom? Chi not nahodiv yakys Maxim, rokiv pid thirty, bestow, I don’t know a nickname?

Andriy Petrovich rushed to the house of the name, if he was no longer able to stay in different walls.

And Petrovich! - grafting old Nefyodov, susid from below. - Haven't played in a long time. And why don’t you come out, soromish, chi scho? So you don’t need anything.

What sensi am I stumped by? Andriy Petrovich growled.

Well, what is it, yours, - Nefyodov passed the rub of the hand over the throat. - Yakiy went to you. I kept thinking why Petrovich, in his old age, had called the public.

You about what? - Andriy Petrovich felt cold in the middle. - With what kind of public?

Vіdomo z yakoyu. I'm going to drink some pigeons. Thirty years, vvazhay, vіdpratsyuvav from them.

Which of them? - Blessed Andriy Petrovich. - What are you talking about?

You really don't know? - alarmed Nefyodov. - Marvel at the news, trumpet about it.

Andriy Petrovich did not remember how he got out of the elevator. Climbing up fourteen, with three hands groping for the key from the gut. For the fifth time, try to find out, go to the computer, connect to the border, burn out the line of news. My heart sank into pain. From the photograph, Maxim marveled, rows of italics under the sign spilled out in front of his eyes.

“Vikrity by the rulers,” Andriy Petrovich, forcibly focusing, reading from the screen, by-button technology. Home robot tutor, DRG-439K series. Defect of the core software. Declaring that the self-styled visnovka about the child’s lack of spirituality, fought against it. Self-taught children subjects posture school program. Vіd khazyаїv prihovuvav their activity. Excluded from the animal… Disposaled after the fact…. The community is restless due to the manifestation... The company, which is letting it out, is ready to suffer... The committee has decided on special creations...”.

Andriy Petrovich moved. On my feet, so as not to bend, I went to the kitchen. Opened the buffet, on the lower police station stood a rahunka brought by Maxim to pay for the start of a brandy dance. Andriy Petrovich opened the cork, looking at the flasks in his hands. Do not know and vomit from the throat. Coughing, letting out a dance, breathing to the wall. Kolіna podlamalis, Andriy Petrovich solemnly sank down on the pіdlogu.

A pidbag thought came to the cat. Mustache to the cat pid tail. All the whole hour I started the robot.

Soulless, defective slut. Having put everything in her, what є. Everything, for the sake of which varto live. Everything for which Vin is alive.

Andriy Petrovich, swaying around, grabbing for his heart, moving forward. Stretching out to the window, tightly lighting up the transom. Now gas stove. Vіdkriti burners and pіvgodini pokat. I all.

Dzvіnok at the door zastav yoga on pіvdorozі to the stove. Andriy Petrovich, clenching his teeth, tearing up the cracks. Two children stood on the fence. The boy is rocky at ten. The first girl on the river is another young woman.

Do you give literature lessons? - marveling at the forelock that it falls on the eyes, the girl asked.

What? - Andriy Petrovich zdivuvavsya. - You who?

I'm Pavlik, - roaring the boy ahead of him. - Tse Anechka, my sister. Mi vid Max.

See... See who?

Vіd Max, - stubbornly repeating the boy. - Vіn having punished to transfer. Before Tim, like wine... like yogo...

Kreyda, kraida all over the earth in the mustache of the border! - the girl chirped in a rapt voice.

Andriy Petrovich huddled behind his heart, convulsively writhing, suffocating, shoving it back at his chest.

Are you hot? - Quietly, the ice coolly rinsing the wines.

The candle was burning on the table, the candle was burning, - firmly washing the boy. - Tse vin having punished the transfer, Max. Can you teach us?

Andriy Petrovich, chirping at the door, stepping back.

My God, - saying wine. - Come in. Come on in, kids.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Leonid Kaminsky

Tvir

Olena was sitting at the table and she was doing her lessons. It was getting dark, aloe in the snow, which lay in the yard in clumps, it was clearer by the room.
In front of Olena, lying rozkritiy zoshit, for which Bulo only two phrases were written:
How do I help my mother.
Tver.
They didn’t give a job. Here, the Susidians have a grave recorder. A little bulo, like Alla Pugachova stolidly repeated: “I want it so much, so that the summer doesn’t end! ..”.
"But the truth," Olena thought numbly, "well, it's not like the summer is over!
Vaughn read the headline again: "How I Help Mom." “How can I help? And if you help here, it’s like asking the stylists at home!”.
At the room, the light fell: my mother had gone.
- Sit, sit, I won't care about you, I'll only clean up the troch in the room. - Vaughn began to wipe the books of the police with a ganchirka.
Olena began to write:
“I help my mother at the state. I tidy up the apartment, I wipe it with a ganchirka, I drank from the furniture.
- Why did you throw your clothes around all the rooms? - Mom asked. The food was, obviously, rhetorical, because my mother did not check for advice. Vaughn began to put the speeches in the closet.
“I am laying out the speeches according to the missions,” Olena wrote.
“Before the speech, your apron is biprati required,” my mother continued to speak to herself.
“Prayu bіznu”, - wrote Olena, then thought and added: “I gladzhu”.
- Mom, I have a gudzik on the cloth there, - Olena guessed and wrote: "I am sewing gudziks, as it is necessary."
Mom sewed on a gudzik, then went into the kitchen and turned around with a bucket and a mop.
Vіdsuvayuchi stіltsі, began to wipe the pіdlogu.
- Anu raise your legs, - said my mother, swiftly wielding a ganchira.
- Mommy, you make me proud! - Olena muttered, and without lowering her legs, she wrote: "My pidlogu."
From the kitchen we sighed we were burning.
- Oh, I have potatoes on the stove! Mom screamed and rushed to the kitchen.
“I’m peeling potatoes and ready to eat,” Olena wrote.
- Oleno, supper! - Mom called from the kitchen.
- Infection! - Olena leaned on the back of the style and she stretched.
At the forefront, a ringing sound pierced.
- Oleno, up to you! Mom shouted.
To the room, blushing in the frost, Olya, Oleni's classmate, left.
- I can't wait. Mom sent for bread, and I went on my way - to you.
Olena took a pen and wrote: “I go to the store for bread and other products.”
- You scho, are you writing? - Asked Olya. - Let me wonder.
Olya looked into her zoshit and pierced:
- Well, you give it! It's all not true! You wrote everything!
- And who said that you can’t write? - Olena showed up. - That's why it's called: so-chi-no-nya!

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Reminder texts for the competition "Classics Alive-2017"

Mykola Gogol. “Come in Chichikov, otherwise Dead souls". Moscow, 1846 r_k University doctor's office

To know Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov from the sins of Manilov's assistant:

“At a distance, two lads, blue Manilov, were already standing, as if they were in quiet litas, if they were already sitting children at the table, and even more on high stilts. A teacher stood beside them, bowing his head in a condescending manner and with a smile. Lord's strength for your cup; the guest was planted between the ruler and the ruler, the servant tied the children on the neck of the server.

“What lovely children,” Chichikov said, marveling at them, “but which river?”

“The eldest was eighth, and the youngest was six years old,” said Manilova.

- Femistoclus! - Manilov said, turning up to the eldest, who, having tried to call his pick, tied a lackey at the servette.

Chichikov lifted a sprat of breeze, feeling such a part of the Greek name, as if, no one knows why, Manilov gave the end to "yus", but tried to bring the reproach to the great camp.

“Themistocluse, tell me, what is the best place in France?”

Here the teacher turned his respect to Themistoklus and, it seemed, if he wanted to gather in his eyes, but he decided to calm down and nod his head, if Themistoklus said: Paris.

— Do we have the best place? asked Manilov.

The teacher again restored his respect.

- Petersburg, - Vіdpovіv Femistoklus.

- What about what?

- Moscow, - Vidpoviv Femistoklus.

- Clever, darling! - Chichikov said at the same time. - Tell me, however ... - having continued wine, turning right there with a sort of air to Manilovykh, - at such a time and already such a bridge! I can tell you that there will be great vibes in my child.

- You don't know yoga anymore! - Vidpoviv Manilov, - the new one has a lot of warmth. The smaller axis, Alkіde, is not so swedish, but at the same time, if there is a zustrіne, a visor, a goat, then they are already very young and run into the new raptom; run after her as a follow-up and strike a beastly respect. I will read it with a diplomatic part. Themistoklus, - having continued wine, having turned back to the new one, - do you want to be a messenger?

“I want it,” Femistoklus, chewing bread and turning his head right-handed and left-handed.

At the same time, the lackey, standing behind the lackey, rubbed the messenger with him, and having done better, otherwise a decent third-party droplet would have sunk into the soup.

2 Fedir Dostoyevsky. "Bisi"

Fedir Dostoyevsky. "Bisi". St. Petersburg, 1873 rіk Drukarnya K. Zamislovsky

The chronicler retells the zmіst of the philosophical poem, as if in his youth the liberal Stepan Trokhimovich Verkhovensky wrote, like an old man.

“The scene is played by the choir of women, then by the choir of people, then we have strength, and in the whole world by the choir of souls, as if they had not yet lived, but somehow they would like to live. All these choirs sing about it even more unimportantly, about the hellish curse, but about the great humor. Ale, the scene changes rapidly, and it’s like “Holy life”, on which the coma sings, the turtle with some kind of Latin sacramental words, and I guess, I’ll guess, after sleeping about one mineral, that the object is no longer alive. When they wake up, they sleep without interruption, but if they speak, they seem to bark inconspicuously, but, nevertheless, with a glimpse of greater significance. Nareshty the scene changes anew, and in the wild place, and among the skeletons one civilizational lad roams, who sees and smoky like grass, and on the food of the fairy: now vin smoky grass? vydpovidaє, scho vin, vіdchuvayuchi superfluous life, joking forgetfulness and know yoga in the juice of these herbs; ale smut yogo bazhannya - spend your mind as soon as possible (bazhannya, maybe, and zaive). Then we raptom in 'zhzhdzhaє nevimovnoy' beauty young man on a black horse, and after him follows the zhahliva of the impersonal peoples. Yunak manifests death, and all peoples must die. I, nareshti, even in the very last scene the Babylonian tower is rapt, and like athletes її nareshti get out of the song of the new hope, and if you already get to the very top, then Volodar, let's go to Olympus, tіkaє in a comical look, like it made sense. , Ovodіvshi yogі mіscem, vіdrazu start a new life with new penetration of speeches.

3 Anton Chekhov. "Drama"

Anton Chekhov. Collection of "Lines of Advice". St. Petersburg, 1897 rіk Vidannya A. S. Suvorina

The soft-hearted writer Pavlo Vasilovich zmusheniya vislukhovuvat found a dramatic tvir, what a voice read out to you by the writer-graphomaniac Murashkina:

“You don’t care that this monologue is really iron? - Murashkina raptomed, raising her eyes.

Pavlo Vasilovich did not feel the monologue. Vіn znіyakovіv i having said in such a wine tone, nibi not pani, but vin himself having written this monologue:

— Nі, ni, nitrohi... It's really nice...

Murashkina beamed happily and continued to read:

— „Ganna. You are requested to analyze. You stopped living with your heart in advance and trusted your mind. - Valentine. What is a heart? Tse anatomical understanding. As a slang term for what is called feelings, I do not know yoga. - Ganna(signed). And the kohanna? Isn't it a product of an association of ideas? Tell the door: did you love when? - Valentine(With hot water). Not chіpatimemo old, not yet healed wounds (pause). What are you thinking about? - Ganna. I give up, you are unhappy.

Near the hour of the 16th appearance, Pavlo Vasilovich sighed and inadvertently saw with his teeth the sound that dogs make when they catch flies. Vіn zlyakavsya tsgo obscene sound і, to disguise yogo, putting on his guise with a viraz of outrageous respect.

“XVII monstrosity… When will it end? - thinking wine. - Oh my God! If it’s just ten more hvilin, then I’ll shout out to the varta ... Unbearable!

Pavlo Vasilovich easily sighed and chose to speak, but immediately Murashkina turned the page and continued to read:

- "Diya friend. The scene represents a rural street. Right-handed school, livoruch likarnya. On the slabs of the rest sit the villagers and the villagers.

“Vinen…” interrupted Pavlo Vasilovich. - Skіlki vsіh dіy?

— Five, — said Murashkina, and immediately, not afraid that the hearer didn’t hear, quietly continued: “From the end of the school to marvel at Valentine. It can be seen that the settlers carry their belongings in a tavern near the mud-bill stage.”

4 Mikhailo Zoshchenko. "At Pushkin's Days"

Mikhail Zoshchenko. "Vibrane". Petrozavodsk, 1988 rіk Vidavnitstvo "Karelia"

At the literary evening, dedicated to the centennial anniversary of the day of the death of the poet, the radian house manager spoke with a promo promo about Pushkin:

“Of course, I, dear comrades, am not a historian of literature. I will allow myself to go to great date simply, as it seems, in a human way.

Such a generous pidkhid, I guess, to bring the image of the great poet closer to us.

Otzhe, a hundred rokіv vindicate us from the first sight! The hour of truth is to live inexplicably fast!

The German war, as it seems, broke out twenty-three years ago. Tobto if it started, then before Pushkin it was not a hundred years, but a total of seventy seven.

And I was born, to show myself, 1879 fate. Otozh buv closer to the great poet. It’s not that I’m a moment of yogo bachiti, but, as it seems, we were only close to forty rokiv.

Well, my grandmother, even purer, was born in 1836. Tobto Pushkin instantly bachiti and navіt pick up. Vіn mіg її nanny, and she could, what good, cry in your arms, not wondering who you її took in your arms.

Obviously, it’s unlikely that Pushkin could ever nurse, it’s better that she lived in Calusia, and Pushkin, I guess, didn’t live there, but still you can admit that I’m weak, it’s better that you win their acquaintances.

My father, I’m still new, having been born in 1850. Ale Pushkin, even then, unfortunately, it didn’t, more wine, it’s possible, to bring up my dad for a moment to nurse.

Ale my great-grandmother wine, singsongly, the moment is already taken in your arms. Vaughn, yavіt sobі, was born in 1763 roci, so that the great sings of the moment easily come to її batkіv i vimagati, schob stink gave you її trimati and її razumili ... Want, vtim, in 1837 ponytail, So, it seems like a doorway, I don’t know how it was there, and how the stench was there with the cym ... It’s possible, it’s possible, it’s nanny yogo out there ... But those who are covered for us by the fog of invisibility, then for them, perhaps, there were no difficulties, and the stench miraculously sorted out who to nurse and who to rock. And as old as it was, it was at that hour of fate at six or ten, then, obviously, it’s ridiculous to think and think that someone was babysitting there. So, already there she nursed someone.

And, perhaps, hitting and singing lyrical songs to you, you, without knowing it yourself, awakened in a new poetic sense, and, perhaps, at the same time, the poignant nanny Arina Rodionivna sighed yoga on the TV of some other verses.

5 Danilo Kharms. “What is now sold in stores”

Danilo Kharms. A collection of reviews of Stara. Moscow, 1991 rіk Vidavnitstvo "Juno"

“Koratigin came to Tikakeev and did not find him at home.

And Tikakeyev at this hour was at the store and having bought there tsukor, meat and ogirki. Koratigin trampled on the door of Tikakeyev and zirvatsya already write a note, marveled at the raptom, where Tikakeev himself carried in his hands a gluey hamanets. Koratigin pumped Tikakeev and shouted to you:

- And I've been checking on you for a whole year!

- It's not true, - it seems Tikakeev, - I'm only twenty-five minutes old, as if from home.

“Well, I don’t know what,” said Koratigin, “but I’ve only been here for a whole year.

- Do not lie! - Saying Tikakeev. - Shameful lies.

- Merciful sir! - said Koratigin. “Try to pick virazi.

- I respect ... - pooch Tikakeyev, ale yogo interrupting Koratigin:

- You really care ... - having said wine, but then Koratigina interrupted Tikakeyev and said:

- You yourself are kind!

These words angered Koratigin so much that he squeezed one nostril with his finger, and mined the other nostril at Tikakeyev. Todi Tikakeyev sipped the biggest stump and hit Koratigin on the head with it. Koratigin huddled his hands behind his head, fell and died.

Axis yakі great ogіrki are sold now in stores!

6 Illya Ilf and Evgen Petrov. "A touch of peace"

Illya Ilf and Evgen Petrov. "A touch of peace." Moscow, 1935 rіk Vidavnitstvo "Vognik"

Zvіd hypothetical rules for stupid radian bureaucrats (one of them, Basov, є anti-hero feuilleton):

“It is impossible for all punishments, ordering and instructions to accompany a thousand guards, so that the Basovs do not make a fool. For example, a modest decision, let’s say, about the fencing of the transport of live piglets near tram cars can look like this:

However, when the penalty was imposed, there were no traces of piglets:

a) shtovkhati at the chest;
b) be called scoundrels;
c) zіshtovhuvati at full speed from the tram's maydanchik under the wheels of the zistrik vantage;
d) it is impossible to equate them to evil hooligans, bandits and thieves;
e) it is not possible at any time to zastosovuvat tse rule schodo hulks, yakі bring along not piglets, but small children up to three years old;
e) you can’t spread yoga on the bulk, like zovsim not to piglets;
g) and inspire schoolchildren, like they sing revolutionary songs in the streets.

7 Mikhailo Bulgakov. "Theatrical Romance"

Mikhail Bulgakov. "Theatrical novel". Moscow, 1999 rіk Vidavnitstvo "Voice"

The playwright Sergiy Leontiyovich Maksudov is reading to the great director Ivan Vasilyovich, who hates, if he shoots on the stage, his song “Black Snow”. The prototype of Ivan Vasilyovich was Kostyantyn Stanislavsky, Maksudov - Bulgakov himself:

“At once from the days that are rushing about, a catastrophe has come. I'm reading:

- "Bakhtin (to Petrov). Well, goodbye! You will soon come for me.

Petrov. What are you doing?!

Bakhtin (shooting himself at the crotch, falling, harmony was felt in the distance ...) ".

— Oce marno! - Ivan Vasilyovich tweeted. - What's the matter? You need to wake up, not calling for a single second. Have mercy! Need to shoot?

“Ale vin try to put your hands on yourself,” I coughed, yelling.

- I do better! Let's skin it and let's stab ourselves with a dagger!

- Ale, bachite, on the right you see hromada war… The daggers didn’t get stuck anymore…

“Ni, they were stastosing,” Ivan Vasilovich rebuffed, “having told me that… like yoga… forgetting… that they were zastosovulysya… You’ve shot me!”

Having said a word, I will sum up a pardon, and reading further:

- "(... they shot that monk. A man appeared on the bridge with a guinea pig in his hand. Month ...)"

- My God! - Ivan Vasilyovich tweeted. - Shoot! They shot again! What a hell of a thing! You know what, Leo... you know what to do on the stage, that's it.

“I’ve taken it in,” I said, trying to say the yakomoga m’yaksha, “the head of the stage ... Here, chi bache ...

- Form pardon! - vodrіzav Ivan Vasilovich. - This scene is not only not a head, but it is not necessary for us. Why? Your cei, yak yogo?

- Bakhtin.

- Well, well ... well, the axis of wines has stabbed far away there, - Ivan Vasilyovich waving his hand far far away, - and when someone else comes home, even if his mother - Bekhtєєv stabs himself!

- Ale mothers don't know ... - I said, staring blankly at the bottle with a small cap.

- It's necessary to obov'yazkovo! You write її. Tse doesn't matter. I’m going to give up, what’s important - no mother’s bum, and raptom out є, - but it’s a pardon, it’s even easier. The first axis of the old woman reads at home, and whoever brought the call ... Name Yogo Ivanov ...

- Well, well ... Bakhtin is a hero! New one's monologues on the bridge... I thought...

- And Ivanov and say all the monologues! You have good monologues, you need to save them. Ivanov and say - Petya's axis was stabbed and before his death he said those, those and those ... The scene will be even stronger.

8 Volodymyr Voinovich. "The life of that supremacy of the soldier Ivan Chonkin"

Volodymyr Voinovich. "The life of that supremacy of the soldier Ivan Chonkin". Paris, 1975 rec YMCA-Press

Colonel Luzhin is trying to learn from Nyuri Belyashova about the mythical fascist resident named Kurt:

"- Well, well. - Clasping your hands behind your back, I went through the office. - You do. You don’t want me to enter the door. Well. And for others, you don't know Kurt vipadkovo, ha?

- Kur something? Nyura chimed in.

Yes, Curto.

- But who doesn’t know chickens? Nyura lowered her shoulders. - How is it possible in a village without chickens?

- Can't you? - Luzhin overdid it quickly. - So. Well. At the village without Kurt. Niyak. Can't. Impossible. - Vіn putting on a table calendar and taking a pen. - What is a nickname?

“Belyashova,” Nyura said eagerly.

— Blyu… Ni. Not tse. The name I need is not yours, but Kurt's. What? Luzhin frowned. - Don't you want to say?

Nyura glanced at Luzhin without understanding. Lips її tremtili, tears appeared again in the eyes.

- I don’t understand, - she said correctly. - How can chickens have a nickname?

- Chickens? - having drunk Luzhin. - What? Have chickens? BUT? - Vіn raptom mustache zrozuіv і, stribnuvshi on the pіdlogu, blunting his feet. - He! Get out of here."

9 Sergiy Dovlatov. "Zapovidnik"

Sergei Dovlatov. "Reserve". Ann Arbor, 1983 pik Vidavnitstvo "Hermitage"

The autobiographical hero works as a tour guide near the Pushkin Mountains:

“To me, a man approached the Tyrolean chapel sarcastically:

“Vibachte, how can I supply power?”

- I hear you.

- Did you give it?

- Tobto?

- I feed, what did they give? - The Tyrolean choked me to the vіkn.

- In what sense?

- In a straight line. I want to know, what did they give or not? If they didn’t give it, then tell me.

- I don't understand.

Cholovik troch chervonіv and pochav quarrelly explain:

- I am a small leaflet ... I am a phylocartist ...

- Philokartist. I'm picking up leaflets... Philos - kohannya, potatoes...

- I have a color leaflet - "Pskov Dali". І axis I leaned here. I want to sleep - did they give it?

“They gave it away,” I say.

- Typical Pskov?

- Not without something.

Cholovik, syayuchi, vіdіyshov...»

10 Yuriy Koval. "The lightest chauvin in the world"

Yuri Koval. "The lightest chauvin in the world." Moscow, 1984 rіk Vidavnitstvo "Young Guard"

A group of friends and friends of the protagonist are looking at the sculptural composition of the artist Orlov "People in capes":

“People in capes,” said Clara Courbet, smiling thoughtfully at Orlov. - What a cicavi conceived!

“Everything is in caps,” Orlov puffed. — І in the skin under the capelyuhom its internal light. Bachite who has a big nose? Nosy vin nosatiy, and under the droplet of the new one, everything is one and the same light. What do you think, which one?

The maiden Clara Courbet, and behind her, those others respectfully looked at the big-nosed member of the sculptural group, pretending, what kind of inner light he had.

“It is clear that there is a struggle in this people,” said Clara, “but the struggle is not easy.

All again stared at the big-nosed one, roaming, as if in a new one such a struggle could be experienced.

“I guess what the struggle is between heaven and earth,” Clara explained.

Everyone froze, and Orlov broke down, without looking, maybe, like a girl, I could see such a force. The militiaman is the artist clearly ostovpiv. Youmu, maybe, it didn’t fall into my head that the sky and the earth could fight. Looking out of the corner of my eye at the bed, and then at the bed.

- Everything is right, - the troch zakayuchis, saying Orlov. - Exactly correct. Same - struggle ...

“And under that crooked droplet,” Clara continued, “under that struggle, fire and water.

The policeman with a gramophone stole a little. By the power of her glance, the girl Clara Courbet ventured to overshadow not only the gramophone, but also the sculptural group. The policeman-artist was turbulent. Vybravshi one kapelyuhiv easier, twitted her finger and said:

- And under the price, there is a struggle between good and evil.

- Hehe, - said Clara Courbet. - Nothing like that.

The policeman snarled and closed his mouth, marveling at Clara.

Orlov slapped Petyushka with a lick, like a chimos crunchy in the gut.

Looking at the sculpture group, Clara muttered.

- Under this droplet, it seems to be more, - it started right away. - Tse ... fight fight fight fight fight!

Anton Pavlovich Chekhov

bad frenchman

Clown from the circus brothers Gіnts, Henry Purkua, zaishov at the Moscow tavern Testov posnіdati.

Give me a consom! - having punished the state's wine.

Will you punish with poached chi without poached?

Nі, poached over it's sieve ... Two or three toast, maybe, give ...

In ochіkuvannі, docks file consomі, Purkua busied himself with guarding. The first thing that fell into the eyes of you, was like a new, noble pan, who was sitting at the court table and getting ready for the mlints.

"How, however, they serve a lot of money at Russian restaurants! - Thinking the Frenchman, wondering, like watering your milk with hot olives.

Susid this hour, having anointed the milky caviar, cut them into halves and forged a swish, lower at five quills ...

Choloek! - turning back to the official. - Give me some more! What do you have for such portions? Give me some ten or fifteen pieces! Give me a balik ... somgi, chi sho!

"Wonderful..." - Purkua thought, staring at the susida.

Z'їv p'yat shmatkіv tіsta and ask for more! Wtіm, such phenomena do not add up to rіdkostі... In my own place in Brittany, my uncle François, who is on par with two plates of soup and five mutton cutlets... ."

Poloviy placed a mountain of milk and two plates with a balik and somgoi in front of the susіdom. The good sir drank a glass of burner, ate some salmon and took up the milk. On the great Pourkua, їv vіn їх hurry up, the ice is roaring, like a hungry one.

“Obviously, he’s sick ...” the Frenchman thought. - I don’t know how, divak, do you show that this is the whole mountain?

Give me more litters! - Shouting Susid, rubbing oily lips with a servlet. - Don't forget the green cibula!

"Ale ... prote, half-burn already!" the clown gasped. ". but you can’t stretch yourself between your stomachs... Yakby tsey pan we have in France, yoga would be shown for a pittance... God, you can’t burn anymore!

Give me a dance Nuї... - having said susіd, priymayuchi caviar and cibula in the state. - Just pogrіy pogrіy kopatku... What else? Mabut, give me a portion of the mlints.

I hear ... And what will you punish after the millions?

Wouldn't it be easier... Zamov a portion of a peasant woman with Russian sturgeon and... and... I'll think about it, go!

- Maybe, why should I dream? - the clown jigged, looking up at the back of the chair. Let's suspect that there are so many wines? Can't Bootie!

Purkua, having called to himself a state official, who served as a court table, and asked whispers:

Listen, why are you serving so much to you?

Tobto, e... e... stink! How not to submit? - Zdivuvavsya articles.

It's wonderful, but in such a way you can sit here until the evening and vimagati! If you yourself do not have the courage to encourage you, then tell the maitre d' to ask the police!

Sexually chuckled, lowering his shoulders and shoulders.

"Savages!" - the Frenchman, furrowed to himself. - It's better to stink, for a divine, self-destructive person to sit at the table, who can s'ist on the zayvi karbovanets!

Orders, there is nothing to say! - muttered susid, turning to the Frenchman.

I’m already being treated for two intermissions! From portion to portion, be a caress of the check of pvgodini! So I lost my appetite to the encore and fell asleep ... Three years at a time, and I need to be on a jewelry obid until the fifth.

Pardon, monsieur, - zblіd Purkua, - even vie already offend!

Hі... What kind of offense? Tse snіdanok... mlintsі...

Here Susidov brought a peasant woman. I poured myself a plate of wine, peppered it with cayenne pepper and sorbati...

"Bidolaha ... - continuing to gasp the Frenchman. - Because I am guilty of ailments and I will not commemorate my troubled one, otherwise I will fight everything for the price of navmisne ... with the method of self-destruction ... My God, I know what I will waste here on taka." picture, then never come here! My nerve is not to blame such scenes!"

And the Frenchman, with a pity, having become a glimpse of the guise of a susida, shokhvilini ochіkuyuchi, that the axis-axis should be judged by him, as if they were always with Uncle Francois after a troubled couple ...

"Mabut, the person is intelligent, young ... full of strength ... - thinking wine, marveling at the court. - It is possible, to bring mischief to your family ... and as much as possible, that you have a young squad, children ..." Judging by the clothes , wine may be rich, contented ... but why should you succumb to such a cry? I, sitting here and not going to the new one to help! Possibly, yoga can still be vryatuvati!

Purkua pidvіvsya rіshuche from the table and pіdіyshov to the susіd.

Listen, monsieur, - turning up in a quiet, insinuating voice. - I don't have the honor of knowing you, ale virte, I'm your friend... Why can't I help you? Guess, you're more young ... you have a squad, children ...

I will not understand you! - shaking his head susid, looking at the Frenchman's eyes.

Ah, now hide, monsieur? Aje, I'm doing wonders! You are so rich, that ... it’s important not to suspect ...

Am I rich?! - Zdivuvavsya Susid. - I?! Again... Why don't you tell me, why didn't I see anything from the very morning?

Ale vie duzhe їste!

Don't pay you! What are you turbulent about? І zovsіm I'm not rich! Marvel, їm, like a mustache!

Purkua glanced at himself and gasped. Statues, shtovhayuchis and pouring one on one, wore the whole mountain of millions ... People sat at the tables and ate the mountains of millions, salmon, caviar ... with the same appetite and fearlessness, like a godly pan.

"Oh, the land of miracles!" - Thinking Purkua, walking out of the restaurant. - Not only the climate, but to wind the shorts to work miracles in them! Oh, the country, the wondrous country!

Irina Pivovarova

spring board

I didn’t want to take lessons yesterday. The outside was so sunny! Such a warm little zhovtenka sonechko! Such gіlks went for a window!.. I wanted to twist my arm and touch it to the skin's green sticky leaf. Oh, how to smell your hands! I fingers stick together - you can’t see one in one ... No, I didn’t want to read my lessons.

I went over. The sky above me was red. They hurried up in the new gloom, and bloomed greedily in a loud voice on the trees of the mountain, and on the benches a big fluffy gut was warming, and it was so good that it was spring!

I walked by the yard until evening, and in the evening my mother and tatom went to the theater, and I, having not learned my lessons, went to bed.

The early morning was dark, so dark that I didn’t want to get up. Axis so zavzhd. Like a sleepyhead, I'll be shriveled up at once. I dress in a swish-shvidko. And kava is savory, and mom doesn’t grumble, and that’s hot. And if the wound is like this, like today, I dress up as ice-cold, my mother is less angry and angry. And if I'm snida, then rob me of respect, that I sit crookedly at the table.

On the way to school, I guessed that I hadn’t made a good lesson, and seeing me became even louder. Not marveling at Lyuska, I was strong at my desk and winked at my assistants.

Uvіyshla Vira Evstigіїvna. The lesson has dawned. Shout out to me.

- Sinitsina, to the doshka!

I winced. Why go to the doshka?

- I didn't cheat, I said.

Vira Evstignievna zivuvala and gave me a two.

Well, why is it so bad for me to live in the world?! Rather, I'll take it and die. Todi Vira Єvstigіїvna poshkoduє, scho put me a two. And my mother will cry and tell everyone:

"Ah, now we ourselves went to the theater, and we were deprived of our own one!"

They rapped me in the back. I turned around. They put a note in my hands. I blew up the paper's old letter and read it:

“Lucy!

Do not fall into the water!!!

Dviyka - tse dribnitsy!

Double up!

I will help you! Let's be friends with you! Tilki tse taєmnitsa! Not a word to anyone!

Yalo-quo-kil."

They poured some heat on me once. I was so happy that I laughed. Luska looked at me, then at the note, and turned proudly.

Why should I have written? Or maybe a note for me? Maybe there's Lusko? Ale on the back of the botsі stood: LYUSIA SINITSINA.

What a wonderful note! I have never received such miraculous notes from life! Well, obviously, two - tse dribnitsy! About scho rozmov?! I'll just fix the two!

I overshot twenty times more:

"Let's comrade with you ..."

Well, it's awesome! Well, let's be friends! Let's be friends with you!! Please! I'm glad! I love terribly if you want to be friends with me!

But who is writing? Yakiys YALO-QUO-KIL. Ignorant word. Tsikavo, what does it mean? Why does this YALO-QUO-KIL want to be friends with me?

I marveled at the desk. Nothing bad happened.

Without a doubt, I want to be friends with me, because I'm good. What, I'm rotten, what? Well, garna! Hell, you don't want to be friends with a filthy person!

In joy, I shoved Lyuska with a lick.

- Lucy, and I'm the only person who wants to be friends!

- Who? - Lyuska was asleep at once.

- I don't know who. Here, it seems to be written unreasonably.

- Show me what I can figure out.

- Word of honor, won't you tell anyone?

- Honestly word!

Luska read the note and twisted her lips:

- What a fool to write! I don’t have a moment to say my right thing.

- And maybe wine to be ashamed?

I looked around the class. Who can write a note right now? Well, who? .. Good, Kolya Likov! Vin we have in the class is the smartest. Everyone wants to be friends with him. Ale, I’ve got triple-strings! No, hardly wine.

Or maybe, Yurka Seliverstov wrote? .. But, we are so friendly with him. Becoming a bi vіn nі z that nі z this me a note nadsilati!

At the break, I went into the corridor. I got up for the night and started the check. Good b, tsey YALO-QUO-KIL right at the same time with me comrading!

From the class of viishov Pavlik Ivanov, and immediately leaning in before me.

Father, did you write Pavlik? Only a few things haven't been picked up yet!

Pavlik pidbig before me and saying:

- Sinitsyn, give me ten kopecks.

I gave him ten kopіyok, so that he could know better. Pavlik ran away from the buffet, and I lost my white wine. Ale, no one else came up.

Raptom lifted me up, Burakov began to take a walk. I was lucky that it was marvelous to marvel at me. Vіn zupinivsya order and began to marvel at the vіkno. Otzhe, having written a note to Burakov ?! Then more quickly, I’ll go. I can't stand that Burakov!

- The weather is greedy, - Burakov said.

I didn't get the drink.

- So, the weather is bad, I said.

- The weather doesn't get worse, - Burakov said.

- Terrible weather, I said.

Here Burakov is a hero with a swarm of apple and a crunchy taste of half.

- Burakov, give me a taste, - I didn’t see it.

- And out there, - saying Burakov and pishov along the corridor.

No, I didn’t write a note. I thank God! You don’t know another such thirst in the whole world!

I scornfully marveled at him and went to class. I saw and embraced. It was written on dosh in majestic letters:

MYSTERY! YALO-QUO-KIL + SINITSINA = KOHANNYA!!! NOT A WORD TO ANYONE!

Lyuska was whispering to the girls at the hut. When I left, they all marveled at me and started giggling.

I bought a ganchirka and rushed to rub the plate.

Here Pavlik Ivanov jumped up to me and whispered in his ear:

- Tse I wrote you a note.

- Breshesh, don't you!

Todi Pavlik roared like a fool, and shouted at the whole class:

- Oh, she's dead! Why be friends with you? All at the guise, like a cuttlefish! Silly tit!

And then I didn’t get to look around, like Yurko Seliverstov jumped up to the new one and hit that bovdur with a wet ganchirka right on the head. Peacock curling:

- Ah well! I'll tell everyone! We will tell everyone, we will, we will tell about her, as if we were taking notes! I will tell everyone about you! Thank you for this note! - І vіn vibіg іz class with a stupid cry: - Yalo-kvo-kil! Yalo-quo-keel!

The lessons are over. Nobody has gone before me. The mustache was chosen by the assistants, the first class. Some of us with Mykola Lykovim were lost. Kolya couldn't tie the lace on the lace.

Doors creaked. Yurko Seliverstov put his head in the classroom, looked at me, then at Kolya and, without saying anything, pishov.

And raptom? Raptom did Kolya write? Nevzhe Kolya? Happy Yake, if Kolya! My throat suddenly dried up.

- Yakshcho, tell me, be kind, - I could hardly see myself, - don’t you, boova ...

I didn’t do it, I babbled with a rap, like Colini, vuha ta shiya, are flooded with farboi.

- Eh ty! - Having said Kolya, do not marvel at me. - I thought, ti... And ti...

- Kolya! - I screamed. - Hey, I...

- Chatterbox ty, axis hto, - saying Kolya. - You have a pomelo tongue. I don't want to be friends with you anymore. What else did not stick out!

Kohl nareshti vporavsya zі lace, pіdvіvsya і viyshov іz class. And I am strong in my place.

I'm not going anywhere. Behind the window there is such a stingy plank. And my share is so filthy, such filthy, that you don’t get drunk! So I sit here until night. I sit at night. One for the dark class, one for the entire dark school. So I need.

Aunt Nyura has gone with a zebra.

- Go home, dear, - said aunt Nyura. - At home, my mother checked out.

- No one was at home for me, Nyura, quietly, - I said, and I took care of the class.

My share is filthy! Lucy is not my friend. Vira Evstignievna gave me a two. Kolya Likov... I didn't want to guess about Kolya Likov.

I dressed properly in a loose overcoat, and, lightly stretching my legs, I stepped over the door...

On the streets of the miraculous ishov, best of the world of spring boards!

Along the street, delay the commanders, begly merrily wet crossings!

And on the ganka, just under the board, standing Kolya Likov.

- Let's go, - saying wine.

And we went.

Evgen Nosov

Live half a day

Titka Olya glanced into my room, caught the papers again, and, raising her voice, said commandingly:

Write! Go get some air, help the flower bed to grow. Titka Olya distala from the Komirchini birch bark box. While I was rubbing my back out of satisfaction, smashing the earth with a rake, the vagrant, sitting on the prize, spread bags of flowers with flowers according to varieties.

Olga Petrivna, why, I respect you, don’t you sit in the flower beds of poppies?

Well, what a poppy color! - exclaimed vіdpovіla won. - Tse ovoch. Yogo in the beds at once from the cibulei and ogirki sіyut.

Wow! - I laughed. - More in the same old pisenci sing:

And her forehead, mov marmur, white. And the cheeks are burning, now poppy colors.

The colors of the wines are only two days old, - Olga Petrivna poured out. - For flowerbeds, it’s impossible to walk, shoving and once burning. And then we’ll wash everything in the summer, she herself kalatala and only a kind of pseudo.

All the same, I secretly sniffed a pinch of poppy seeds in the very middle of the flower bed. For a few days it turned green.

Have you planted poppies? - Aunt Olya stepped up to me. - Oh, you are such a beshketnik! So і booty, troyka left out, you screwed up. And reshta all vipolola.

Unexpectedly, I went to the right and turned around in less than two days. After a smoky, stony road, it was acceptable to go to the quiet old house of aunt Olya. In the sight of the fresh weather, it was cold. The jasmine bush, which blossomed under the window, throwing a merezhivnu shadow on the letters.

Pour kvass? - Proponuvala won, svіchtivno glancing at me, sleepy and wistful. - Aloshka already loves kvass. Buvalo, pouring it himself over the dances and sealing it

If I blamed this room, Olga Petrivna, raising her eyes to the portrait of a young man in a uniform form, which was hanging over the writing table, asked:

Don't incite?

Wow!

Tse my son Oleksiy. I room bula yogo. Well, ti rozashovuysya, live healthy.

Serving me an important honey dish from kvass, aunt Olya said:

And your poppies zdіynyalis, vzhe budoni threw out. I pishov marvel at the kvity. At the center of the flower beds, above the mustache of the flower string, my poppies rose, raising the sun three tight, important buds.

The stench of another day broke out.

Titka Olya went out to water the flowerbed, but suddenly turned around, grimacing with an empty watering can.

Well, go marvel, they bloomed.

In the distance, the poppies were similar to the fire of tar, with living, merrily half-light tongues burning in the wind. A light breeze was just hitting them, the sun pierced the bright openings of red pellusts, through which the poppies either shone with a quivering, fiery fire, or filled with a thick crimson. It seemed that the varto only got to the point - to scorch it!

For two days the poppies burned wildly. And for example, the other doby raptom sagged and went out. Once upon a time, the picnic flower bed was empty without them.

I lifted up from the earth, fresh, with dewdrops, pelustok, and straightened yoga on the palms.

Axis and that's all, - I said in a voice, with a sense of suffocation, but not yet chilled.

So, zhorіv ... - zіthnula, mov is alive іstota, tіtka Olya. - And I used to be without respect to the max ... Short in my new life. Then, without looking back, lived to the fullest. And people get so...

Now I live in another country, and I’ll call you until Olya’s aunt. I recently visited her again. We sat at the summer table, drank tea, shared news. And the order on the flower beds is the great kilim of poppies. Some hoarse, throwing pellets on the ground, instead of sparks, others only open their fire tongues. And below, from the water, the full vitality of the earth, new buds were raised, new tightly burnt, so as not to let the living fire go out.

Illya Turchin

Extreme fall

So Ivan traveled to Berlin, bearing will on his mighty shoulders. In the hands of the new buv is an inseparable friend - an automatic machine. Behind the bosom is the land of mother's bread. So I took the edge to Berlin itself.

On May 9, 1945, the fascist Nіmechchina surrendered to fate. Harmati chimed. The tanks rumbled. We saw the signals of repeated alarms.

It became quiet on the earth.

I people sensed how the wind chirped, the grass grew, the birds sang.

For the whole year, having spent Ivan on one of the Berlin squares, de-she burning down the fascists' fires of the booths.

The square was empty.

With a raptom, from the foot of the slaughterhouse, a little girl appeared. She had thin legs and a face that darkened in grief and hunger. Stepping unsteadily on the sun-drenched asphalt, joylessly stretching out her arms, the sleepy girl went to sleep, the girl went to Ivanov. And so small and shameless was Ivanov’s vain on the majestic empty, nibi deadly square, which was bulging with wine, and pity sank into his heart.

Delivering Ivan from the bosom of a dear land, adding navpochіpki and simple maiden bread. The land has never been so warm. So fresh. Never before has it smelled so much of life's boar, lad's milk, kind mother's hands.

The girl chuckled, and her thin fingers stuck into the edge.

Ivan carefully raised the girl from the scorched earth.

And tsієї mitі from behind the horn, looking at the terrible, overgrown Fritz - Rudy fox. What was it for you before that the war ended! Only one thought was spinning in his fascist head, which he said: "Know and beat Ivan!".

I axis of the wines, Ivan, on the square, the axis of the yogo is wide back.

Fritz - Rudy fox distav z-pіd pіdjaka filthy pistol with a crooked muzzle і vystriliv zradnitski z-by the horn.

Kulya drank Ivanov in her heart.

Ivan chuckled. Kidnapped. Ale did not fall - being afraid to let the girl in. Tilki vіdchuv, like an important metal, the legs are poured. Chobots, a cloak, a disguise became bronze. Bronze - a girl in yoga hands. Bronzovim - a terrible automatic machine behind the mighty shoulders.

From the bronze cheeks of the girl, tears were shed, hit the ground and turned into a glittering sword. Taking bronze Ivan by yoga handle.

Shouting Fritz - Rudy fox in fear and fear. The wall trembled at the cry, the wall fell, and praised Yogo under her...

And in the same khvilina, the land, which, having been left behind by the mother, has become bronze. The mother understood that she was trapilos with the son of the bida. She rushed over the door, died, where her heart went.

Ask її people:

Where are you quaking?

To sin. Z synom bida!

I was transported її by cars and by trains, by steamboats and by planes. Shvidko's mother got to Berlin. Viyshla out on the Maidan. Bashed a bronze blue - legs buckled. Mother fell on her knee, she died like that at her eternal sorrow.

Bronze Ivan with a bronze girl in his arms and standing at the city of Berlin - you can see the world. And you will admire - you will remember the bronze land of the mother's bread with wide Ivan's breasts.

And if enemies attack our Fatherland, revive Ivan, put the girl on the ground, lift your grizzly machine gun and - woe to the enemies!

Valentina Osieva

Babtsya

The grandmother was a big, wide, with a soft, sleepy voice. “I filled the whole apartment with myself! ..” - grumbling Borchin father. And the mother timidly murmured to youma: “Old man... Where can I go?” “I lived in the world ... - zіthav dad. - In the invalid booth in my place - the axis of de!

Mustaches in the hut, not including Borka, marveled at the woman, as if they were at the people’s call.

Grandma was sleeping on the screen. All night long, she turned heavily from her side to her side, and the vranci got up earlier for everyone and made dishes in the kitchen. Then that daughter woke up her son-in-law: “The samovar caught. Get up! Have a hot drink on the road ... "

Went to Borka: “Get up, my father, it’s an hour before school!” "Navischo?" - Feeding Borka in a sleepy voice. “Is it up to school? The dark man is deaf and dumb - the axis is now!

Borka shoved his head under the carpet: "Come on, grandma..."

At the blues, the father chovgav vіnik. “And where are you, mothers, galoshes? You’re thriving through them in your mustache!”

The grandmother hurried to the next to help. “That axis of stink, Petrusha, really. Yesterday, they were brooding, I hugged them and set them up.

Coming from Borka's school, throwing off a coat and a hat on the grandmother's hands, bubbling a bag with books on the table and shouting: "Grandma, eat!"

The grandmother loved knitting, wailed curtly at the table, crossed her arms on her stomach, and lashed like Borka. At the same time, as if Borka had passed by, seeing his grandmother, a close person. I want to tell you about the lessons, comrades. The grandmother listened to him lovingly, with great respect, saying: “Everything is good, Boryushka: it’s bad, it’s good. View filthy people it’s better to shy away, looking like a good soul in a new bloom.”

Having eaten, Borka looked at his plate: “Savory sour today! You ila, grandma? “Yala, yala,” the grandmother nodded her head. “Don’t talk about me, Boryushko, I’m a sieve and I’m healthy.”

Priyshov to Borka comrade. Comrade saying: "Hello, grandmother!" Borka merrily pidshtovhnuv yogo lіktem: “Let's go, let's go! You can't hang out with her. We have an old old lady over there.” The grandmother smacked her sweater, straightened the hustka, and quietly moved her lips: “Skrivdity - what to hit, take a sip - you need to say a word.”

And in the susіdnіy kіmnaі comrade kaz Borka: “And with our grandmother, they always live. I own, and others. Vaughn is our head." "Yak tse - headache?" Borka huffed. “Well, the old woman ... all the rage. Її cannot be imaginable. And what about your own? Bachish, father zgrіє for tse. "Don't piss off! Borka frowned. “Vin himself doesn’t get out of it ...”

After moving Borka often, for no reason at all, feeding his grandmother: “Is it shown to you?” And saying to the fathers: "Our woman is the best, but she lives better - nobody knows about her." The mother was amazed, and the father was angry: Who taught you the father to sue? Marvel at me - small yet!

The grandmother, smiling softly, shook her head: “You, fools, need to please. For you syn growth! I have lived my life in the world, and your old age is ahead. What you take in, you will not turn back.

* * *

Borka started to cackle the reproach of a woman. On this guise there were different kinds of wrinkles: deep, dry, thin, like threads, and wide, vibrant rocks. “Why are you so discolored? Is it old? - drinking wine. Grandma hesitated. “According to the eyes, my dear, the life of a human being, like a book, you can read. Woe and evil have signed here. Children hoval, cried - kicked at the guise of zmorshki. I will need to endure, fight - I will renew the wrinkle. A man was driven into the war - a lot of tears were bulo, a lot of tears were gone. Great wood and that hole near the earth riє.

Hearing Borka and wondering with fear at the looking-glass: how few wines have broken in your life - how can all the disguise be tightened with such threads? “Go on, grandma! - growling wine. - You will talk forever fool ... "

* * *

In the rest of the hour, the grandmother hunched her shoulders, her back became round, she walked more quietly and sat still. "Growing into the ground," - zhartuvav dad. "Don't laugh at the old man," the mother imitated. And the grandmothers in the kitchen said: “What, you, mom, like a turtle is collapsing around the room? If you send you for help, you won’t be checked back.”

The woman died in front of the herbal saint. She died alone, sitting in an armchair with knitting in her hands: lying on the knees of her unfinished socks, on the bottom - a ball of thread. Chekala, maybe, Borka. Standing on the table ready prilad.

The other day they buried the grandmother.

Turning from the courtyard, Borka found the matir, who was sitting in front of the open screen. Every kind of moth was called on the hill. There was a smell of speeches that were stale. Mother wiggled the zim'yatiy rudiy little lace and carefully straightened yogo with her fingers. “My, now,” said the woman, and leaned low over the screen. - My ... "

On the very day of the screen, the screen was made up - that one, zapovitna, I so wanted to look into the yak of Bork. The screenshot was opened. Batko twisted a tight roll: he had warm mittens for Borka, scarves for his son-in-law, and a sleeveless jacket for his daughter. Behind them came a embroidered shirt from an old-fashioned crocheted seam - a tezh for Borka. At the very kutka lay a bag of ice packs, tied with a red line. On the sachet it was written in great other letters. Batko twisted the yoga in his hands, became accustomed and read aloud: “To my grandchildren Boryushtsi.”

Borka raptom zblіd, virvav at the new package and vtіk nadvir. There, attaching someone else's bramy, for a long time marveling at the grandmother's scrawl: "To my grandson Boryushtsi." The letter "sh" has a bunch of sticks. "I didn't get used to it!" thought Borka. He explained how many times in wines, that in the letter "sh" there are three clubs ... And raptom, as if alive, a grandmother stood in front of him - quiet, wine, as if she had not learned a lesson. Borka was ruined looking around at his house and, squeezing a bag in his hands, shaving the street with someone else's long parkan.

Dodom vin come early in the evening; his eyes were swollen with tears, fresh clay stuck to his knees. Babchin put a bag of wine to himself under the pillow and, poking his head out of the carpet, thinking: “Don’t come, you bastard!”

Tetyana Petrosyan

A note

The note is small and looks small.

Behind all gentlemen's laws, she has a small ink peak and a friendly explanation: "Sidoriv is a goat."

So Sidorov, without suspecting the filthy thing, mittevoly ignited the messenger ... and stopped. In the middle, in a great beautiful handwriting, it was written: "Sidoriv, ​​I love you!". The roundness of Sidorov's handwriting was impressive. Who wrote youma like that? Having come to terms, looking back at the class. The author of the note may not be known to himself. And yet, Sidorov’s enemies, for once, didn’t laugh maliciously. (Like the stench sounded laughed. Ale a second time - no.)

Natomist Sidorov once reminded that Vorobyov should not immediately marvel at something. Not just to marvel, but to the meanings!

There were no sums: the note was written by a woman. And then go out, what should Vorobyov love? And here Sidorov's thought went into the absence of life and began to thrash about recklessly, like a fly in a glass. WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO LOVE??? What are the consequences to cause and how now to Sidorov's buti?

"It's logical," said Sidorov, logically. "What, for example, do I love? Pears!

At that moment, Vorobyova turned around again to the new one and licked her lips bloodily. Sidorov zadubiliy. Youmu rushed to the vechi її for a long time not having a haircut ... well, right, blue eyes! Chomus guessed that, like at the sideboard, Vorobyova greedily hung her bony chicken leg.

“It’s necessary to take it into your hands,” taking Sidorov into your own hands. (Hands appeared grotesque. Ale Sidorov ignoring the dribnitsa.) “I love not only pears, but also fathers. "Mom bakes licorice cakes. I often wear tato on my shoulders. And I love them for that reason..."

Here Vorobyova turned around again, and Sidorov pondered hard that he would now have a chance to eat licorice cakes for her and wear її to school on his shiї, in order to be true to such a rapt and shalen kohannya. I was surprised and revealed that Vorobyova is not thin and it will be, perhaps, not easy to carry.

“Not everything has been spent yet,” Sidorov did not hesitate. “I also love our dog Bobik. and then we’ll take you for a walk, mittingly for the behavior and not letting you wiggle either to the right or to the left.

"... I love Murka's gut, especially if it's right at the ear ... - at Sidorov's roaring minds, - no, not the same ... I like to catch flies and put them in a bottle ... but it's already too much ... "I love toys, so you can be crazy and wonder what's in the middle..."

Seeing the rest of the thought, Sidorov felt bad. Poryatunok buv less in one. Vіn kvaplivo virvav arkush іz zoshita, clenching his lips and in a firm handwriting vivіv grіznі words: "Vorobiova, I love you the same." Let it be scary.

Hans Christian Anderson

Girl with Sirniki

How cold it was on that evening! And the days were getting thicker. And the evening left on the river - ahead of the New Rock. In the midst of cold and dark pores, a little evil girl with bare head and barefoot wandered through the streets. It’s true, there was a lot of vzuta out of the house, but why did the majestic old shoes have a lot of trouble?

These shoes were worn by mothers before - the axis of the stench was great - and the girl wasted her years, if she rushed across the road, grinning at two carriages, they raced at full speed. She didn’t know one shoe, she ate some lad, declaring that she would see a miracle colossus for yogo future lads.

The axis of the girl and now walked barefoot, and her little legs turned black and blue in the cold. By the intestines of an old apron lay a bundle of sirnykh syrniki, and one pack of trimal in hand. For the whole whole day, she did not sell the yearly sirnik, and they did not give the yearly penny. Vaughn wandered hungry and froze and was so tormented, bіdolaha!

The little ones sat on the її dovgі bіlyavі curls, which were garnished on the shoulders, aleone, really, and did not suspect those that stink of the garni. From all vikons it was light, on the street there was a delicious smell of smeared goose - even before the New Rock. What was she thinking!

Nareshti, the girl knew little by little ledge of a booth. Here she was strong and shrugged, kicking her legs. Alya became even colder, but she didn’t dare to turn back home: even she didn’t go far to sell the honey sirnik, she didn’t give a penny, but she knew what father had come for; so far, she thought, it’s cold at home too; stench to live on the mountain, where the wind walks, wanting the biggest cracks in the walls and stuffed with straw and ganchirs. Ruchenya її zovsіm zadubіli. Ah, how bi їkh zіgіv vognik a little sіrnik! Yakby just won't dare to win the siren, strike it against the wall and warm your fingers! The girl timidly took one sirnik and ... teal! Like a sirnik, having fallen, like a bright wine, having fallen!

The girl covered her hand with her hand, and the sirnik began to burn in equal light half-lights, then the candle was crying. Amazing candle! The girls got it, don’t sit in front of the great flooded pichcha with gleaming middle bags and curtains. Like a garno in it, fire is burning, like warmth in the new wind! Ale, what's up? The girl stretched out her legs until the fire, to warm them up, - and raptom ... the half-light went out, the rudeness wilted, and in the hands of the girl the burnt syrnik was filled.

Vaughn struck another sirnik, the sirnik lit up, lit up, and if it fell on the wall, the wall became clear, like a muslin. The girl swayed the room in front of her, and in her style, covered with a white tablecloth and orders with expensive porcelain; on the table, spreading a miraculous aroma, stood a grass with a smeared goose stuffed with prunes and apples! And the most wonderful thing was those that the goose with a rapt zіstribnula z_ table і, like a bow, with a saw blade and a knife at the back, transshipment of shchitilgav along the pіdlozі. Vіnіshov right up to the poor girl, ale... the siren zgas, and in front of the bіdolashnoy again stood an impenetrable, cold, orphan wall.

The girl lit another sirnik. Now she was sitting in front of the rose

yalinka. Tsya yalinka was richly dressed and smartly dressed for that, like a girl ran to the holy evening, pіdіyshovshi to the booth of one rich merchant and staring at the window. Thousands of candles burned on її green needles, and pictures of different colors, with which they adorn shop windows, marveled at the girl. Malyatko stretched out her hands to them, ale ... the sirnik zgas. The Vogniki began to walk faster and faster, and suddenly changed into a clear sky. One of them rolled in the sky, leaving a long-standing fiery trace behind it.

"Who died," thought the girl, because she died not long ago old granny, Yaka, alone in the world, loved її, she said more than once: "If the star falls, the soul rises to God."

The girl again struck the wall with a siren and, if everything had brightened up, she patted her old grandmother in her bed, so quiet and enlightened, so kind and lagidna.

Granny, - the girl whimpered, - take, take me to yourself! I know what you are going to do, if the sirnik goes out, you will know, like a warm rude, like a savory lubrication gander and a wonderful big yalinka!

And she scribbled curtly at all the sirniks that were left out in patches, - she wanted to hug Grandma! I sirniki fell so blindly that it became bright, lower day. Grandma for life has never been such a garna, such a majestic one. Vaughn took the girl in her arms, and, illumined by light and joy, offended stench rose high-high - there, deaf to hunger, neither cold, nor fear, - the stench rose to God.

A frosty wound behind a ledge of a booth they knew a girl: there was a blush on her cheeks, a smile on her lips, but she was dead; she became in the last evening of the old fate. The new sun hung on the dead body of the girl with sirniki; she burned a whole pack of mayzha.

The girl wanted to warm herself, people said. I didn’t know anyone, like a diva bachila, in the midst of a beautiful stink at once from my grandmother, I shot Novorichne Happiness.

Irina Pivovarova

What is my head thinking about

If you think that I feel good, you will have mercy. I feel unimportant. Why should I care that I am healthy, but lazy. I don't know if I'm good or not. But only I know for sure that I am not lazy. For three years I sit over tasks.

Axis, for example, at the same time I sit and I want to check the task. And she doesn't care. I tell mum:

- Mom, but in me the task is not to go out.

- Don't linger, - say mom. - Think smartly, and see everything. Just think well!

Vaughn go to the right. And I take the head of both hands and say:

- Think head. Think big… “From point A to point B, two walkers went…” Head, why don’t you think? Well, head, well, think, be kind! Well, what do you want?

Behind the vіknom plyve gloom. There is light, like fluff. The axle wobbled. No, fire away.

Head, what are you thinking about?! Like you are not shameful !!! “From point A to point B there were two walkers ...” Lyuska, maybe, the same way. Vaughn is already walking. Yakby won’t come before me first, I її, obviously, would bounce. Ale hiba out pidide, such a Skoda?

"... From point A to point B ..." No, there's no way. Navpaki, if I see at the door, take Olen's hand and whisper with her. Then we will say: "Lion, send to me, I have є". The stench will go, and then we will sit on the pіdvіkonnya and laugh and threaten us.

“... From point A to point B, two pishokhods went ...” And what will I do? And scho won zrobit? Yeah, put on the “Three Tovstuni” headscarves. She is so loud that Kolya, Petka and Pavlik will smell and beat ask її, so that she gave them a listen. One hundred heard, everything is not enough for them! And then Luska mend a window, and the stinks there must hear a scarf.

"... From point A to point ... to point ..." And I will also take it and shoot it right at the window. Sklo - ding! - I fly apart. Hey know.

So. I've been tired of thinking. Think, don't think - don't go out. It's just fear, like a zavdannya vakhke! I’ll take a walk for a walk and think again.

I started the task and glanced at the window. Lyuska alone was walking by the yard. Vaughn stribala at the classics. I went over the top and strength on the bench. Lyuska did not look at me astonished.

- Earring! Vitko! Luska screamed at once. - Let's go to the bast shoes!

Karmanov's brothers glanced at the window.

- We have a throat, - the offended brothers said hoarsely. - Don't let us in.

- Olena! Lucy screamed. - Lion! Get out!

Deputy Deer looked at her grandmother, she threatened Lucy with her finger.

- Pavlik! Lucy screamed.

Nobody showed up at the window.

- Sleep-ka-ah! - Luska huffed.

- Divchinko, why are you screaming?! - hung from the apartment chiyas head. - Do not give sick people help! I won't worry about you! - І head poked back at the apartment.

Lyuska was astonished at me and blackened like a cancer. Vaughn smacked her pussy. Then I took a thread from my sleeve. Then she looked at the tree and said:

- Lucy, let's go to the classics.

- Come on, I said.

We were trimmed to the classics, and I went home to revise my task.

Tіlki-but I'm strong for steel, my mother came:

- Well, how's the boss?

- Don't come out.

- But you've been sitting over it for two years already! Tse just zhah scho take! Ask children like puzzles! Well, let's show your boss! Maybe in me weed? I still graduated from the institute. So. “From point A to point B we went two pishogod…” Shoot, shoot, you know me already! Listen, that wi її last time they sang at the same time! I remember wonderfully!

- Yak? - I cheered. - Nevzhe? Oh, it’s true, it’s forty five years old, and we were given forty shosts.

At this point, my mother became terribly angry.

- Tse boisterous! Mom said. - It's unbearable! Tse dissimilarity! Where is your head? What are you thinking about?

Oleksandr Fadeev

Young Guard (Mother's Hands)

…Mother Mother! I remember your hands from that moment, as I began to assimilate myself in the world. Over the summer, you’ve always tucked away in zasmagu, you’ve no longer entered and charged, - the wine is so lower, equal, only a little darker on the veins. And dark veins.

Z tієї samoї mitі, as I became to assuage myself, and dosi the rest of the hvilini, like ailments, quietly, rise, she laid her head on her chest, seeing off the important path of life, I always remember your hands in robots. I remember how the stench scurried about in a miles pin, washing my stretched, if the qi stretched the bulges were so small that they looked like pelyushki, and I remember, as if in leather, a winter coat, carried winds in a yoke, laying in front on yoke a little hand in mittens, she herself is so small and fluffy, like a mitten. I'm drenching your triplets with sweaty swamps of my fingers on the primer, and I'll repeat after you: "Be-a-ba, ba-ba".

I remember how indefinitely your hands could twist the rolling pin from the finger of the son, and how the stench of mittevo dressed the thread in the neck, if she was sewing, she was sleeping - she was only sleeping for herself, she was sleeping for me. To that there is nothing in the world that your hands would not amaze, that it would not be strong for them, that the stench would not perish.

And best of all, for all eternity I remember, how the stench stroked the bottom, your hands, the trochs were short and so warm and cold, how the stench stroked my hair, neck, and chest, if I was lying in a nap_svіdomі lying by the bed. And if I hadn’t smashed my eyes, I’d be beaten by me, and the mountain was at the rock, you marveled at me with your glowing eyes, nibi from dark, she herself was all quiet light, nibi in robes. I kiss your clean, holy hands!

Look around you, youngster, my friend, look around, like me, and tell me, whom you depicted in life more, lower mother, - do not see me, do not see you, do not see something new, do not see our failures, pardon and do not in our grief do our mothers sing? Aja, the year will come, if all the healers of the mother's grave turn into a sickly doctor's heart.

Mamo!

Victor Dragunsky

Deniskin's advice.

... b

Once I sat, sat, and neither of these things, having thought up such a thing, what to wind myself up. I thought that the axis would be good, yakby, everything was done in the world, it was vlashtovano. Well, from, for example, that the children were on the right side of the head, that they grew up, they were small for everyone, for everyone to hear. Zagalom, they grew up like children, and children grew up like that. Otse would have been miraculous, more would have been cicavo.

First, I declare myself, as if my mother was "worthy" of such a story that I walk and command her as I want, that tattoo might be the same bi "worthy", but there is not much to say about my grandmother. What can I say, I guessed everything! For example, the axis of my mother would sit at the table, and I would say:

“Why did you start a fashion without bread? It’s all new! You marvel at yourself in the mirror, who do you look like? Vilithy Koshchiy! giving the command: - Shvidshe! next!

And then I saw the robots, and I didn’t manage to wake up, and I would have already shouted: “Aha, I’ve appeared! You always need a check! I’m afraid to marvel at you at the towel. With a shield three and don’t be mischievous. Well, show me nothing! "Don't squish your nose, you're not girly... That's it. Now, sit down to the table."

Win siv bi and quietly saying to mum: "Well, how are you doing?" And she would say the same quietly: "Nothing, dyakuyu!" And I would say negainally: "Rozmovniki at the table! If I am, then deaf and dumb! Remember this for all your life. Golden rule! Tato! Put down the newspaper at once, my punishment!"

And the stinks would sit with me like Shovkov, but if my grandmother came, I would become friendly, clasping my hands and voicing: “Tato! Mom! Admire our grandmother! I'm playing hockey again! And what's with the wild club?

Here I would walk around the room and say to all three of us: "If I'm sorry, all sit down for the lessons, and I'll go to the cinema!"

Surely, the stinks immediately zahnikali bі zahnikali: "I'm with you! I also want to go to the cinema!"

And I would say: “Nothing, nothing! Yesterday we went to the National Day, in a week I took you to the circus! Bach!

Todi would bless the grandmother: "Take me if you want! Aje a skin child can take one grown-up one without a cost!"

Ale, I would have sneered, I said to the bi: "And for this picture, people have been fenced in for seventy fates. Sit at home, gulena!"

And I would walk over them, navmisno loudly tapping with pidbors, I don’t remember that their eyes are all wet, and I become dressed, and I’ve been spinning for a long time in front of the mirror, and I would fix the door to get off and say bi ...

But I didn’t manage to think of what I would say, to the one who at the same time my mother left, right, alive, and said:

You are still sitting. Well now, wonder who you look like? Vilithy Koshchiy!

Lev Tolstoy

Bird

Bov Sergiy is the birthday man, and a lot of young people were presented with gifts: jigs, horses, and pictures. Ale more expensive gifts, having presented uncle Sergius with a net, to catch birds.

The grid is broken so that a plank is added to the frame, and the grid is thrown out. Nasipati on the plank and put it on the underside. A bird will fly in, sit on a plank, the plank will turn, and the net will slam itself shut.

Zradiv Sergiy, came to his mother to show the grid. Mother like:

– Not a garna igrashka. What are you birds on? Are you tormenting you now?

– I'll plant them by the cage. Go to sleep, and I'm sir!

Distav Sergiy nasinnya, squeezing on a plank and putting a net in the garden. And all standing, checking, scho birds to fly. But the birds were afraid of yoga and did not fly to the net.

Pіshov Sergіy obіdati i sіtku zalishiv. Marveling at the insult, the sitka began, and under the sitka there was a bird. Sergiy is healthy, having spied a birdie and carried him home.

– Mother! Surprise, I spit a bird, tse, maybe, a nightingale! And like a new heart beats.

Mati said:

– Tse chіzh. Marvel, do not torment Yogo, but rather let him go.

– Hi, I do yoga and I will scare you. Having put Sergius a siskin in a cage, he spent two days sleeping on it, and putting water in, and cleaning the cage. On the third day of wine, I forgot about the siskin and did not change the water. Mati youmu i kazhe:

– Axis bachish, forgetting about your bird, rather let it go.

– No, I won’t forget, I’ll put a water and a clean cell at once.

Putting Sergius's hand into the cage, he began to clean it, and the siskin, snarling, fights against the cage. Sergiy cleaned the cell and pishov for water.

Mother babbled that she forgot to close the cell and shout to you:

– Sergius, close the cage, otherwise your bird will fly and run in!

She didn’t catch her saying, the siskin knew the door, healthy, having opened the wings and flying through the svitlitsa to the end, she didn’t make a mistake, hitting the slope and falling on the pdvіkonnya.

Sergiy came, taking the bird, and carried it to the cage. The chizhik is still alive, but lying on its breasts, spreading its wings, and breathing heavily. Sergius marveled, marveled and began to cry:

– Mother! What should I do now?

– Now you can’t see anything.

Sergіy tsiliy day did not go out of the cage and all marveled at the siskin, and the siskin just lay on his chest and was airy and breathless. If Sergiy sleeps, the siskin is still alive. Sergiy did not fall asleep for a long time; to the eye, like a vein, having flattened his eyes, a chizhik appeared to you, like a vein to lie down and breathe.

Lies, if Sergiy pidiishov to the cage, swayed, chіzh already lie on the back, podtisnuv paws and ossified.

From that hour, Sergiy never caught birds.

M. Zoshchenko

Znahіdka

Like me and Lelei they took a box of zuceroks and put a toad and a spider there.

Then we lit up the box in clean paper, tied it up with a chic black line, and laid the package on the panel opposite our garden. Start by spending your purchase.

Having given this bag of white tumbi, we hid in the bushes of our garden and, choking on smіhu, began to check what would be.

І axis go transitional.

Having received our package, you will sing loudly, gladly and navit, rubbing your hands with satisfaction. More pack: you know a box of zukerok - not so often you go to this world.

Zatamuvav podikh, mi z Lelei marveled at what would be given.

The passerby nahlivsya, uzyav package, quickly rozvyazav yogo i, poachiv garn box, even more healthy.

The 1st axis of the cover is made. And our toad, bored to sit in the dark, viskakuє from the box right on the hand of the passerby.

That ahkaє vіd podivu i zhurlyaє box podіdі vіd itself.

Here, Lelei and I began to laugh so much that we fell down on the grass.

And the floorings laughed at us loudly, that the passer-by turned into our beak and, swaying us behind the parkan, saw everything.

In one mile of veins, rushing to the parkan, in one fell swoop, re-stripping yoga and rushing to us, to check us.

Mi s Lelei was set up as a strekach.

Mi s heather rushed through the garden to the booth.

Ale, I stumbled on the garden bed and stretched out on the grass.

And here the passerby is strongly vіdder me for wuho.

I screamed out loud. Ale passable, giving me two blunders, calmly pishov from the garden.

Our fathers came running to the cry of that noise.

Trembling for the blackened vuho and sobbing, I pіdіyshov to batkіv i skarzhivsya on those that were bubbling.

My mother wanted to call the doorman, so that with the doorman to catch up with the passerby and arrest him.

Lelya already rushed after the doorman. Ale tato zupiniv її. I said to my mother:

- Do not call the janitor. I do not need to arrest the passerby. Zvichayno, at the cost of not rіch, scho vіn vіdder Minka for vuha, but in the place of the transitional I, maybe, having killed myself.

Feeling these words, mother got angry at Tata and said to you:

- You zhahlivy hisist!

I s Cherished also got angry at Tata and didn’t say anything to you. I just rubbed my ear and cried. I Lelka also whimpered. And then my mother, taking me in her arms, said to her:

- Deputy of that, to intercede for the passerby and bring the children to tears, and more quickly explaining to them what is nasty in the fact that the stench was roiling. Especially I don’t care about anything, and I describe everything as an innocent child.

I don’t know what the evidence is. Vin only said:

- Axis children grow great and if they themselves know why it's bad.

Olena Ponomarenko

LYNOCHKA

(Track "Poshuk injured" from the film "Zirka")

Spring was reminiscent of the warmth and hubbub of the graks. It seemed that the war would end today. Already chotiri rocks, like I'm at the front. Maizhe did not lose anyone alive from the medical instructors of the battalion.

My childishness seemed to have passed at once in my grown-up life. At breaks between battles, I often guessed the school, the waltz ... But the war is a lie. Virishili all class go to the front. Ale, the girls were deprived of taking a month-long course of sanitary instructors at the clinic.

If I arrived before the division, I already took care of the wounded. They said that these lads had no armor: they got it from the battlefield. Before seeing the fearlessness and fear, I recognized the sickle forty-first ...

- Boys, is anyone alive? - making my way through the trenches, I fed, respectfully pushing a meter of earth at the skin. - Boys, who needs help? I turned over the dead bodies, the stench marveled at me, but without asking anyone for help, because they didn’t cheat anymore. Artnalit znischiv usikh…

- Well, you can’t have such a booty, but who is to blame for being alive?! Petro, Igor, Ivan, Aloshka! - I jumped up to the machine gun and slapped Ivan.

- Vanechka! Ivan! - she screamed for the whole time of her legs, but the body was already growing cold, only the blue eyes were unruly marveling at the sky. Going down to another trench, I felt a stogin.

- Who is alive? People, feel free to want to! I screamed again. Stogin repeated, unreasonable, deaf. By gom, the dead body was killed, whispering Yogo, that he was alive.

- Nice little one! I'm here! I'm here!

I started again to turn over everyone who was walking on the road.

– Hi! Hi! Hi! I know you obov'azkovo! Tilki daughter me! Don't die! - I stubbed into the next trench.

A rocket flew uphill, flying yogo. Stogіn repeating here the same order.

- Well, then I won’t work on my own, because I didn’t know you, - I shouted and commanded myself: - Come on. Let's listen! You know yoga, you can do it! More trohi - and the end of the trench. God, how scary! Shvidshe shvidshe! “Lord, what are you, help me to know!” - I got on my knee. I, a Komsomol member, asked the Lord for help ...

Chi tse bulo divom, alestogin repeated. That wine is at the very end of the trench!

- Trim! - I screamed as they ran and literally ran away into the dugout, covering it with a cloak.

- Ridenky, alive! - hands pratsyuval shvidko, rozumiyuchi, scho vin no longer linger: seriously injured in life. Taking your guts with your hands.

- You happen to deliver the package, - quietly whispering wines, dying. I flattened yoga eyes. In front of me lay a young lieutenant.

- That yak tse ?! Which package? Kudi? You didn't say where? You without saying where! - looking around at everything, rattling the package, which should be washed at the job. “Terminovo,” he wrote, re-creating the red olive. - Polova post to the headquarters of the division.

Sitting with him, a young lieutenant, said goodbye, and tears rolled one by one. Having taken my documents, I walked along the trench, hitting, it bothered me, if I cursed at the cost of the eyes of the dead soldiers.

I delivered the package to headquarters. And the views there really turned out to be even more important. Only the axis of the medal, as they handed me, to my first fighting city, did not dress it up, because it belonged to that lieutenant, Ostankov Ivan Ivanovich.

…After the end of the war, I handed over the medal to the lieutenant's mother, she rose, as if I had died.

In the meantime, battles were sharpened ... The fourth river of war. In the course of an hour, I have grown better: the ore of the hair has become a familiar white. Spring was approaching with warmth and roaring hubbub.

Yuriy Yakovich Yakovlev

GIRLS

W VASILYVSKY ISLAND

I am Valya Zaitseva from Vasilevsky Island.

I have a little hamster alive. Put on the top of your cheeks, in reserve, sit on your hind legs and marvel at the black horns... Uchora I beat one lad. I forgot the youma of the garnet bream. Mi, Vasileostrіvskі girls, we can fend for ourselves, if necessary ...

It's always windy on Vasilevsky. Sich doshch. Siple wet snow. The veins are trawling. First, our island sails like a ship: levoruch - Neva, right-hander - Nevka, in front - open the sea.

I have a girlfriend - Tanya Savicheva. We are friends with her. Vaughn from the Other Line, Budinok 13. Chotiri vikna on the first version. Poruch bakery, in the basement of the gas store... There is no time for the store, but in Tanya's hour, if there was less in the world, on the first verse, it always smelled of gas. I've been told.

Tanі Savichevіy bulo stіlki w rokіv, skіlki menі now. Vaughn could have been virile a long time ago, become a reader, but forever lost her girlhood ... If my grandmother sent Tanya to the gas, I was gone. I went to the Rumyantsev garden with another girlfriend. But I know everything about her. I've been told.

Vaughn was sleeping. Been sleeping. She wanted to recite the verse, but she stumbled with the words: to stumble, and everyone thinks that she has forgotten the word. My girlfriend slept to the fact that if you sleep, you don’t zaїkaєsh. She couldn’t zakatisya, she was chosen to become a reader, like Linda Avgustivna.

Vaughn always played as a teacher. Dress on the shoulders of a great grandmother's hustka, keep your hands locked and walk from kut to kut. "Children, today we'll take care of your repetitions ..." And here you stumble over words, redden and turn to the wall, even if there is no one at the room.

It seems that they are doctors, they rejoice at zaїkuvatost. I would know this. Mi, Vasileostrіvskі girls, whom you want to know! But now the drug is no longer needed. Vaughn got lost there... my friend Tanya Savicheva. They were taken from taxed Leningrad to the Great Land, and the road, called the Road of Life, could not give Tanya life.

The girl died of hunger ... Why not everyone should die - in hunger, chi in cool. Possibly, it hurts more when you are hungry...

I wished to know the Way of life. I went to Rzhevka, where the road is being repaired. I walked two and a half kilometers - there the lads made a monument to children, they died at the blockade. I also wanted to be.

Yakis grown up fed me:

- Who are you?

- I'm Valya Zaitseva from Vasilievsky Island. I also want to be.

Meni said:

- You can't! Come with your area.

I didn't go. She looked around and patted the baby, the little button head. I hoarded a new one:

- Do you also come from your own district?

- Vin came from his brother.

Іz brother is possible. Іz the area is possible. How about being alone?

I told them:

- Understand, even I don’t just want to be. I want to be my friend... Tanya Savichevsky.

The stinks wiggled their eyes. They did not believe Chi. Perepitali:

- Is Tanya Savicheva your friend?

- What's so special about it? We are one-year-olds. Offenses from Vasilievsky Island.

- Ale, її don't know ...

How stupid people are, but how grown up! What does "nі" mean, like my comrades? I said, so that the stench understood:

- We are all sleeping. І street, І school. We have a hamster. Vin on the cheeks.

I remembered not to believe me. And so they believed the stench, vipalila:

- We have the same handwriting!

-Handwriting?

- The stench zdivuvalis more.

- What? Handwriting!

The stench cheered uncontrollably, in the handwriting:

- Tse duzhe good! Tse directly znahidka. Come with us.

- I'm not going anywhere. I want to be...

- You will be time! You will write for the monument in Taninim handwriting.

“I can,” I agreed.

- Only I can't see olives. Duste?

- You write on concrete. Don't write in olive oil on concrete.

I never wrote on concrete. I wrote on the walls, on the pavement, but the stench brought me to a concrete plant and gave Tanin a shtodennik - a note with the alphabet: a, b, c ... I have such a book itself. For forty kopecks.

I took Tanin's schodennik to the hands and turned aside. It was written there:

"Zhenya died on the 28th chest. 12.30 year. wound 1941".

I got cold. I wanted to give him a book and drink it.

Hello, I'm Vasileostrivska. And since my elder sister died as a friend, I may be deprived of her, not tikati.

- Let's get your concrete. I write.

The crane lowered to my feet a majestic frame made of thick gray dough. I took a stick, put it on the back and began to write. The concrete felt cold. Writing was important. I was told:

- Don't hurry.

I robbed pardons, smoothed over the concrete, and she wrote again.

I got bad.

- Don't hurry. Write calmly.

"Grandma died on the 25th of September. On the 3rd of the day, 1942."

While I wrote about Zhenya, my grandmother died.

If you just want to eat, if not hunger, you will sleep the good old day.

I tried to starve from the wound until evening. Viterpila. Hunger - if day by day your head, hands, heart are hungry - everything that is in you is hungry. I'm going hungry, then I'm dying.

"Leka died on the 17th birch about the 5th year of 1942".

Leka mav svіy kut, vіdgorodzheny wardrobes, vіn there armchairs.

Having earned pennies for armchairs, she started. Vin is quiet and short-sighted, in eyepieces, and all rips at his place with his drawing pen. I've been told.

Is de vin dead? Singingly, in the kitchen, where the bourgeois dimila was a small, weak train, they slept, ate bread every day. A small piece, like faces in death. Likiv was rejected for Leka ...

“Write,” I said softly.

At the new frame, the concrete is rіdky, the letters have been recited. And the word "died" disappeared. I did not want to write yoga again. Alemeni said:

- Write, Valya Zaitseva, write.

I wrote again - "died".

"Uncle Vasya died on the 13th quarter of the 2nd hour of the night of 1942".

"Dyadko Llosha, May 10, about the 4th day of the year 1942."

I got tired of writing the word "died". I knew that with the skin side of Tanya Savichovy's student, Daedalus became hotter. Vaughn stopped sleeping a long time ago and did not mention what she was zakaєtsya. Vaughn didn't play teacher anymore. Ale did not give up - she lived. They told me... Spring has come. Greened trees. We have a lot of trees on Vasilevsky. Tanya withered, froze, became thin and light. Her hands were trembling and her eyes were ill in the sun. The Nazis drove half of Tanya Savichova, and perhaps more than half. Ale with her was a mother, and Tanya was trembling.

- Why don't you write? I was quietly told.

- Write, Valya Zaitsev, more you will catch concrete.

For a long time I did not dare to enter a side on the letter "M". On the other side, Tanya's hand was written: "Mom 13 May about 7.30 anniversaries of the early 1942 rock." Tanya did not write the word "died". She did not have the strength to write the word.

I tightly squeezed my stick and bumped into the concrete. Chi did not look into the box, but wrote as a reminder. Good, we have the same handwriting.

I wrote schosili. The concrete, having become thick, mayzhe caught. Vіn no longer reminded me of letters.

- Can you write more?

- I'll finish it, - I said, and turned around, so that they wouldn't bleed my eyes. Aje Tanya Savicheva is my... girlfriend.

We are of the same age as Tanya, we, Vasileostrіvsk girls, at the same time stand up for ourselves, if necessary. Yakby won’t be Vasileostrіvskaya, Leningradskaya, she wouldn’t have been so wet for a long time. Ale, she lived - otzhe, did not give up!

Turned the "C" side. There were two words: "Savichev died."

Turned the side "U" - "The mustache died." The remaining side of Tanya Savichova's student bula with the letter "O" - "One Tanya has lost."

And I showed that I, Valya Zaitseva, was left alone: ​​without mami, without tat, without sister Lyulka. Hungry. Under shelling.

At the empty apartment on the other line. I wanted to cross the rest of the side, but the concrete hardened, and the stick broke.

I raptom thought I fed Tanya Savicheva: "Why alone?

And I? You have a friend - Valya Zaitseva, your sister from Vasilevsky Island. We'll take you to the Rum'yantsev garden, better, and if it's better, I'll bring granny's hustka from home, and we'll become a teacher, Linda Avgustivna. I have a little hamster alive. I will give yogo tobi for National Day. Chuesh, Tanya Savicheva?

He put his hand on my shoulder and said:

- Let's go, Valya Zaitsev. You ruined everything you need. Dyakuyu.

I did not understand why they seem to me "dark". I said:

- I'll come tomorrow ... without my district. Is it possible, is it possible?

- Come without a district, - they said to me.

- Come.

My friend Tanya Savicheva did not shoot with the Nazis and was not a breeder with the partisans. Vaughn just lived in her native place at the best hour. But, perhaps, the fascists didn’t get to Leningrad, because Tanya Savicheva lived in the new and the dwellings of a lot of other girls and cottons, who were so forever deprived of their hour. And today's boys can be friends with them, like I am friends with Tanya.

And to be friends only with the living.

I.A. Bunin

Cold autumn

At the black of that fate, having stayed with us at the mother’s - forever, having come into our own with your people: the late father yogo was a friend of that soul of my father. Ale nineteenth lime Nіmechchina voiced Russia's war. Having come to us at the Veresny wines, to say goodbye before leaving for the front (they thought that the war would end without a bar). The first axis is our farewell party. After the evening, they served, like a fire, a samovar, and, marveling at the zapіtnіlі vіd yogo pari vіkna, the father said:

- Wonderfully early that cold autumn!

Mi that evening they sat quietly, more than once they exchanged meaningless words, overwhelmed by calm ones, catching their own thoughts that slightly. I walked up to the balcony doors and wiped it with a harsh brush: in the garden, in the black sky, pure crystals of stars vibrated brightly and gaudily. Dad smoked, gazing at the armchair, gazing at the frying lamp that hung over the table, mother, in eyepieces, diligently sewed up a small sling bag under the light, - we knew what it was, - and it was bulo and zvorushivno and motoroshko. Dad asleep:

- Do you still want to take a lie, and not send a snidka?

- So, if you please, Uranians, - vіdpovіv vіn. - It’s more vague, but I still don’t know how to order at home.

Father lightly sighed:

- Well, whatever you want, my soul. It’s time for us to sleep with mom at any time, we definitely want to see you off tomorrow ... Mom got up and crossed her future son, shriveled up to the hand, then to the hand of the father. Having been left alone, my little bits wandered in the distance, - I thought up a game of solitaire, walking from hut to hut, then sleeping:

- Do you want to walk a little?

Everything was more important in my soul, I already called out:

- Good...

Dressing at the front of the room, continuing to think, with a sweet smile, guessing Fet's verse:

What a cold autumn!

Put on your shawl and hood.

Marvel - among black pines

Come on, get up...

Є as a strong autumn charіvnіst among these verses. "Pull in your shawl and hood..." The watch of our children and grandmother... Oh, my God! Still, it's messy. It's good. I already love you...

Pulling ourselves up, we went through the far room to the balcony, and went to the garden. The front was so dark that I was trimming my yoga sleeve. Then they began to appear in the bright sky with black swirls, streaked with minerally glittering stars. Vin, zupinivshis, turned to the booth.

- Marvel, as especially, in the autumn way, to shine in the house. I will be alive, I will always remember this evening ... I marveled, and wrapped me in my Swiss cape. I saw the appearance of a downy hustka, troch lifted my head, kissing me. Kissed, marveled at me in disguise.

- Yakshcho me vb'yut, you still do not once forget me? I thought: "Is it really possible to get it right? And why should I forget yoga in the same term - even if I forget everything?" I hastily answered, snarling at her thoughts:

- Do not say that! I won't survive your death!

Vіn pomovchavshi, povіlno vimoviv:

- Well, well, I'll kill you, I'll check on you there. You live, rejoice in the world, then come to me.

The vranci wines are gone. Mama dressed Yoma on the neck of that fatal little little bag that she sewed up in the evening, - for him there was a golden scapular, which was worn in the war by the father and the child, - and we all crossed Yogo with a ragged rozpach. Marveling at you, you stood up for a gank in that stupid, like a buva, if you see someone off for a long time. After standing, they went to the stale hut .... They killed yogo - what a marvelous word! - in a month. This is how I survived his death, having said unfamiliarly if I would not survive it. Ale, guessing all those that I experienced from that hour, forever I feed myself: what happened in my life? I confess myself: only that cold autumn evening. Chi vіn buv kolis? Still boo. And all that was in my life is the solution of an indecent dream. I believe: here there is a check on me - with love and youth, like that evening. "Live, rejoice in the world, then come before me..."

I have lived, pleased, now I will come soon.