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The author: Evgenie Reznikova

 

GOOD-BYE, GRIEF!

 

He has come to me, such prompt, tousled, got used to win. Has asked, whether I will let in it? Artistically swung hands, with curiosity examined furniture of my apartment...

What could I answer? I have understood at once, this meeting is not casual. In the sky the young star and a name to it Infinity was lighted. Henceforth it shines my way: permanent aspiration of the woman fortunately about which ancient philosophers spoke still. What did they understand in aspirations? In a life? In loneliness? They never were above a precipice, looking in muddy whirlpool, convincing itself, that will always have time to jump, after all ability to wait - most thin of arts on light...
But that, Unique stood on my threshold. Also suggested to show something from the white. About, My God, my thoughts were confused, I rushed about on a room, not knowing as to lead. Hands, thanks them, have made all for me. It were колготочки the oldest daughter. White, as well as she. I have dared to lift on It eyes, being burnt with shame that on me - faded треники with the delayed knees, yes an immense pullover of the grandmother.
He has suggested to put колготочки in the safe! How I could give up?
Then, already on a threshold, promptly having turned back, has asked a question from which me has thrown in a paint. Whether can "Тайд" be better, than кипячение?
I have reflected. I have answered what unequivocally to tell difficultly. Also began to recollect...

 

The loneliness was my scourge always.
This such condition when you feel yourself пифагоровой as a straight line aimlessly creeping on space for which it is not thought up yet theorems. You become wrong, as if a spark on which may-bugs are not flied even. And only the tree beating in glass by the dry branches, reminds you - you still the inhabitant of this fine planet.
I lived so long years. Maturing помаленьку, feeling as in a breast seeds of black knowledge ripen, not representing how to find room for all the I "love" under a cap of uncombed hair.
And the loneliness looked at me from huge mirrors in a hall, and was angry. It too was unfortunate, as the anonymous constellation wandering in search of a shelter on the star sky, between the Big She-bear and the Southern Cross.
From time to time it seemed to me, that the life irrevocably disappears, shrivels, remaining on a plane a convex back tiny жучка, and someone can tear off it simply from irritation, and without efforts, a palm edge. Crack!

 

Sometimes I tried to advise something to myself. Felt, that the mouth is full of not clear sounds, and words are weaved from letters of all languages of the world and if them to spit out in the space surrounding me impregnated with a pain and a cold, they will merge in the text of a devout pray. Perhaps though someone will hear it? And he will ask for me, and will cry together with me, and then, having started missing, will leave for ever. As always... Because nobody is able to wait so long, as I.
So - I continue to advise to myself - if the grief rolls - do not scrape obstinately claws in emptiness for it too has patience. Better взбеги up on a trunk of the highest tree in your court yard. Take a view of the earth chained in asphalt, scoop a palm of water from a ditch, and wash the person... Distract, and come back!
Once dark eyes of the girl who have presented to me in a gift to the latest birthday pink слоника have dreamt me. In its pupils I have seen the reflexion, and have understood, at last, as the life when in your apartment there is no mirror where the loneliness observes of each your step is fine, and is angry, angry, heated until white, goes cracks on glass, and blows up in one million brilliant splinters. They sit till now in me, these splinters of a rage, and everyone sticks all more deeply into a skin fabric... And here now He asks me, that it is better: "Тайд" or кипячение? And he seriously wishes to hear my answer?!
The truth?

 

When the loneliness stops, you always think, what exactly this meeting - a destiny finger! You do not allow a crinkle will move towards doubt. You destroy it severely, you push in подвальчик consciousnesses, and itself, at all not having counted to five, you reveal towards to feeling, you catch heat particles, widely having opened chubby lips, you inhale convulsively, accepting a solar oil smell for a component "Chanel". Still! After all in you it is so much energy and desire to make happy someone nearby!
You give birth to the senior daughter from the sanitary technician who was mistaken a door. The elder son - from another's lover escaped at occurrence of the husband through your balcony. And twins of both floors - from the fine stranger who has cut in a tram your bag and, so excitingly, so amazingly its devastated!

 

Now you are again pregnant. That, Unique came again. But you prepared, and have been dressed absolutely in another way!
He has asked to open you the safe. Has taken out therefrom колготочки daughters. Expressively looked at you, wishing to receive the long-awaited answer. Words, междометья, shy smiles...
The loneliness again looks at you from a mirror. The tummy grows, and the charming copy of the yesterday's Only thing, slightly moves with legs. So all of you still wish to know, that it is better: "Тайд" or кипячение?, Still, it is interesting to you, what I will tell in the answer?

 

The senior daughter married. The Elder son works late. Twins, should be, do lessons in group of the prolonged day. And I not to see a malicious mirror, I am arranged on kitchen with a coffee cup. From the top floor the steady smell of ashes reaches!
In a court yard, blinking a siren, there drives a red fire-engine! The fine stranger in a helmet, with a hose in a hand hasty goes to my entrance... Heart feels inevitable change of destiny...

 

And it means, good-bye, grief!

 

27.11.03