Requiem in Russian

Don’t bury me, granddaughter, but cremate me. Ashes spread over our landscape. I was at the graves of relatives, clinging to the fence to repair. I do not need it. I want to rest without a fence. You swear that you will do it.

This is what my friend heard from his grandfather. A person is likely to live happily and easily if he first thought about his posthumous will in 90. On the occasion of the anniversary. That’s what my grandfather Michele did. When he heard the voice, the grandson trembled. Lively imagined what it would feel like to eat the apples from their landscape after that. He saw some perverted cannibalism in it and realized that he did not want to participate in it. I answered delicately:

My grandfather Misha! You have many years of health, but how will I cultivate the garden after that? The hand will not rise!

That was a serious argument. Grandfather thought about. “Well, spread me over the first battlefield. Like the Simone. Though not, there will be shrimp around that in vain blood was shed for them. I do not want to lie abroad. Where do you distract me? Well, go behind the fence of our cemetery, above the raspberries. I remember from childhood – the raspberries near the cemeteries are the sweetest!”

Maybe I’m going to cremate myself too. I don’t know where to go, but I’m going to do it at 90.

I write, and in my head the phrase, flying now on the web - New Year 2017, I don't need any gifts from you! Do not take anyone from me! All good health.