About Good

Yesterday at lunch, a small man from the house (I often work without lunch) called and said with a terrible voice that "We, absolutely by chance, I swear, broke your lens." Along with the sworn cat. The lens stood on the window and, as I thought, did not disturb anyone. But when a child and a cat are in the house, there is no safe place in it. What has been proven.

I’ll go home, I’ll open my ears. The cat and the eggs. You are active in my absence. At the moment, the objective is 80 T.R. The Canon 70-200. They did not have a budget game. Although there was a Canon 16-35, it is now worth a hundred. So, if you can say so, they crashed well.

When I asked what was broken, a sad voice said, “Everything is broken.” And throughout the room fragments, fragments and fragments.

Having mentally buried the lens and reading a solemn speech over it, in the evening I crash home, all so harsh and wrapped in the aura of just punishment of the culprits.

Changed clothes and washed. He heard, “The cat jumped there... and I jumped to him... and he jumped... and I helped him... and he went there... and I... and he... and the lens fell. Here is.”

Well I say. You have to sell all your toys. A tablet, laptop, columns there, what else is there, and buy me a new lens.

The little boy just sneered and went to his room. After a while, I look, pulling the columns on the table. Why Why? I ask. We will collect you on the objective, he says. And so sad and sad.

He is injured in his knee and has been sitting at home for three months. In four walls. We are awake at work, he is alone with a cat. The teacher is coming. And the boy is nine years old, it is time to jump and wear in the yard, and he sits at home. I thought about it and my heart stopped. Go round, I think it’s all a horse! And the pieces of the apartment, and the objective is wrought. I’ll go to school if anything. Not even for men’s actions. for the lie. And for that... burn them with fire these iron glasses!

Words did not say him bad for the objective, neither blasphemed nor punished. I only told you that for the price of a broken lens you can put his entire room by a designer Lego. was impressed.

And then I remembered how I crashed my father’s car at the age of sixteen. In August 1989, he allowed me to walk through the village, and I went on the track. And when the congress from her to the village, he did not calculate and, missing past the bridge, flew into the cane. The mouth is all overwhelmed, and the car from the blow, I am afraid. I came home and, knowing Batty, waited for a slight hustle on the body. He looked at me, silently dressed up and went to the car, which was still rolling in the cane. Then he explained to the Haishnikovs who arrived that he was driving himself and did not cope with the management. I have not a word or a half word of reproach. I said, is he alive? And okay...

No broken thing, let alone not specifically, is worth a mess between loving people. And whatever the domesticated theoretical teachers say to me, I have done right now. Like my father. And I really want to hope he looks like him. And not just this act. And my son will be like me in the good that is in me.

Sergey Kobach