Hanging on a fence is painful and delightful.
Sunset hits the eyes. The palm of the hand is pierced by the rib of the board. Legs barely reach the longitudinal plank. Behind the fence there is a forest. The rule of absorbing the evening sun is to stay in place until it disappears. Do not look away, just blink. Liquid gold is poured into the eyes, the forest is caught, everything that Rabbit has on his sides and behind him is caught: the back facade of the house, untidy lilac bushes, evening smells, an old toilet and a cold, eternally damp baths inside.
It is possible to jump and run into the house, when it will be felt cold from the ground, and from the forest, eating the remains of light, gray haze will rise. Then it is possible. Then you will unhook from the fence, you will be hit by the heels of the ground, you will come running, and you will be immediately: "Well, hungry?
**
Cork was sneezing like a river. The roofs of the cars were cast with steel. The sunset made them lower their visors, put on dark glasses and not look at the road. The army of the blinded slowly moved towards the city. The best thing to do was to relax: the body would soon take its place. He will remind of himself with swollen legs, full of bladder.
Still, what a relief, that it is done! The most surprising thing is that the broker found it himself.
- Hello, I am Kuzenkov.
- Excuse me?
- You are Zueva, Maria Dmitrievna?
- Yes, I am.
- Well, there you go.
- I'm sorry? I'm sorry?
- Isn't that your 12th precinct in the Star?
She didn't even understand at once.
- E. My.
- Well, here we go. Aren't you going to sell it? I heard what we planned. Do you need any help?
Where did you hear it? Who did you hear from? But somehow - everything has spun out.
**
In the village of Zvezda, she was all called Rabbit. It could have been different - Sparrow, Mouse, Mashka. But Rabbit stuck. Apparently, the ears did play a role. And the neck.
At the very end of the street, in a dead end, rested a high pile of lying gravel, overgrown with weeds. Around the pile were areas that she remembered quite vaguely.
In general, each house had its own feeling - the street seemed to be formed from separate worlds. The weather, temperature and time of day were so different that it seemed to be different for them.
The last parts remained in consciousness as a gap. On the left are dense bushes, small, brown, it seems, the house in the depths. Has she ever been to it at all? It seems like there were some older boys living there.
On the right. The plot on the right was different. Pretty open, or the bushes were torn. It seems the house was painted carrot red. There was a woman with a curler's head living there, and it was meant to be a man that Rabbit had never seen before. Or did you see it? Blue pants, durability?
Sometimes children would tear mushrooms along the fence. Anyway, something like that. She tried to look back at the memory, but her memory was like glasses with wrong dioptresis. And the child's eyesight itself was all distorted.
Anyway, at first they didn't understand anything. It was five o'clock in the evening and stuffy. Slowly the thunderstorm came in.
They were sitting on a pile of sand in the middle of the street. Suddenly Ritka came running and waving her arms and calling for herself. Then she took off as fast back to her end of the street. It didn't look like her. They caught up with her, rushed after her.
The Rabbit ran past her station on the left. Then on the right was Ritkin. Then the very strange, distant part of the street began. Running to a dead end, we saw red on the grass. Whether it was rags or clots. And Ritka, bending down, hanging out there like a heron.
It was so strange that Rabbit stopped. She remembers well: she thought about the fly agaric.
From the speed of the air cut the lungs cold. I took my breath away, and then I went on. On the run it became clear: the heads of roses. A lot. They put the grass and rut, from the station to the station, some of them flew on a pile of rubble. Ritka collected them in the hem.
The rest also rushed. There were a lot of flowers, scattering.
But here came a stocky mother in a chintz robe with a smell. She said, "Come on, Rita. Ritka was taken away and they were still collecting until they had collected everything.
The Rabbit somehow opened the gate - do not scatter it! She rushed to look for her grandmother: her grandmother's face was rippled, she said: "In the pelvis there was blue luggage, enameled.
It was Friday. All of them were visited by parents.
After the afternoon the children returned to the sand heap. It was stuffy. From here, we watched who came around the corner from the station. Parents appeared and one of the children left clinginging to their father's bag or mother's bag.
The Rabbit was waiting. When my father appeared in moulting blue summer trousers because of the turn, and a step behind, my mother in a denim skirt with buttons, she stopped breathing, then ran towards him.
To be continued on the next part