/ Stories / The watchers
From the morning on the street was unbearable heat. It was at the very beginning of June and there was no such hot pagoda. My wife went through summer things in search of something light, grumbling along the way that she had nothing and that the newest thing was a hundred years old. We started swearing over this ...
Read more →
Read more →
Going home in the evening, I kept thinking about the upcoming evening. She finally decided to surprise me. In any case, this is exactly how I understood her when in the morning we were talking about what we would do in the evening. Trying to get rid of my "harassment," she said playfully:
- Wait until ...
Read more →
- Wait until ...
Read more →
Rick lay, peering into the impenetrable mist. His body covered with sweat froze, as if afraid to disturb that interweaving of sounds with an awkward movement, which prevented him from falling asleep that night. Having turned to his ear with all his being, he eagerly caught every sweep, every sigh and creak ...
Read more →
Read more →
Introduction et rondo capriccioso.
(Village chronicles of the times of young Alexander)
From the author.
Gray ash of memories. He runs off between the thin fingers of a woman in a black scarf. Yellow wax runs down your fingers like a long-dried tear.But the wax does not burn, as can burn tears. He is akin to tears ...
Read more →
(Village chronicles of the times of young Alexander)
From the author.
Gray ash of memories. He runs off between the thin fingers of a woman in a black scarf. Yellow wax runs down your fingers like a long-dried tear.But the wax does not burn, as can burn tears. He is akin to tears ...
Read more →