“Whom do we feel with all our guts, stumble upon a stone? Who helps in difficult times, touching curls with invisible hands?"
One morning early, when I was eight years old, I looked out the window, like an endless ocean. Far away, like the fur of a furry beast, grass swayed in a clearing. And suddenly the idea jumped like a squirrel on the windowsill, clutched paws at me and, like a nut, undertook to grind with teeth: “I want to build a house myself!"And slipping past everyone, taking a girlfriend with him along the road, I rushed to the clearing. That glade was not at all glade – one continuous thicket of weeds. High, that you go deeper and not see your crown. One round wormwood grass. But if you believe in your work holy, it’s unlikely to scare you, how to brush off a nose from a nose. And so the battle went with the weeds and finally overthrew the monster, that he fell with mowed grass, freeing us a place.
Meanwhile, next to the meadow, abandoned without a fence, languished from idleness. We were lucky, there the bricks lay in an even pile, like chocolate bars. And we stuffed them in backpacks and dragged them along the crumpled path. But cement was not found. But, as known, one is given more easily, to another special way is needed. The main thing here is not to scream, don't collapse, especially half a turn. At that time, my girlfriend’s mom had this kind of activity, that even with a shovel there rowing it. Disguised as a school assignment, we asked to show us the building and everything around. When you really need an affirmative answer, just worth a person to throw words, without picking them up for a long time, how are they already flying balloons, bypassing his nose and ears. Then the question, flashed by a twenty-fifth frame on the screen: “Can we take cement?" – will get a positive nod. So we got our trophy, carrying his barely lifting burden. And finally took up the trowel. But the twilight quickly descended, cool blowing in the wind. We managed to then build three walls sixty centimeters high.
When you are busy, that time does not have an account. It will hang and go again, when you pay attention to him. So it happened to me. Upon returning home darkly, they did not give me the right to vote. But from the screams of mom’s ears shook, what seemed possible to take off, like an insect, buzzing wings. And in the morning shutting me in the room, marked "strictly", punished: “Think about the whole behavior, not in places, what a person usually sits on ”. In the pillow from insults, the eyes sobbed sobbing and the tears were like wormwood-grass. Until I suddenly felt someone's back by the window.
And turned around mechanically, as, eg, In the underground, when someone looks in your back. A tall figure stood in front of me, a little taller than a man, her texture reminded me of shimmering fiber. And fading away, left me calm, which I have never seen. As if infinity in consolation stroked me in bright curls, softly singing a song: "Things are good".