This story was told to me by a colleague. Honourable age lady, a retired lawyer, with whom we periodically intersect on the activities of our foster house.
The story takes place in the distant 1975. My interlocutor then worked as a lawyer in a lawyer's office in a small town of N. The Soviet Union was still there, and there was no sex yet. But, contrary to the official party and state position, as it is unfortunate, there were still crimes on sexual grounds. And therefore there were victims, prosecutors, lawyers and trial for such crimes. Again, contrary to the official position, there were a lot of crimes. At least the materials on various crimes were enough to fill a small room of the only state attorney’s office. The lawyers were suffocating from the papas rising up to the ceiling with the affairs of their “supporters.” Nothing is eternal under the moon. The period of storage of old items has expired. The lawyer’s joy has no limits. The recycling cases were quickly selected. Whether it was a sabotage planned by enemies, or simply a short-sightedness, but in the past no one remembers who came to mind with the idea not to get along with the destruction of materials of criminal cases, but trivially throw them out for the nearest bribe.
The paper corners were tangibly cleaned up, and the light of God began to penetrate the dusty windows. The employees of Femida breathed with full breasts and found a place on the work tables where they could fold their elbows. It was lunch time.
Someone pulled out of the wallet a domestic catlet, someone ate a sandwich. There was a late warm spring outside the window, and children’s voices were heard. The students went home after class.
Yes is. You already understood. The children's way home was near the washing machine and the schoolchildren could not miss such an event as replacing the stinking cleaning with some interesting folders with photographs. Homosexual and heterosexual rape, murders associated with it, cattle harvesting and a bunch of other interesting things – with photographs of crime sites, bodies, anatomical details, protocols, court decisions – all fell into the hands of a curious growing generation. Until the evening, everything was brought out from the laundry that the lawyers had dragged there from the morning.
In the school there was an underground exchange of the most interesting artifacts. Particularly in demand were photographs of large-scale genitals and scattered corpses. The most authoritative schoolchildren decided that such a treasure should not be in the personal property of the individual who found it, but should be passed on to the suffering for a time to study. He was the leader of the authoritative schoolchildren, third-year-old eight-year-old Semen, the son of the praporst of the local WOHR and the chief school hooligan. Under the threat of brutal and immediate executions, he seized the most valuable objects and began to lease them for 10 kopecks per lesson to all willing. Those who wanted were found and a list was made. The photographs were studied under a lump.
The logs printed on the typewriter were written by hand to avoid theft rent.
The school walked like a hole. Teachers heard that something was wrong, but they could not understand what was happening. Commercial operations of Seeds grew wide and deep. Within a week he earned his father’s monthly salary and began to boldly think about buying a motorbike. In order to obtain additional profits, a tariff plan "Unlimited weekend" was developed, when anyone who paid a ruble on Saturday could unlimitedly use up to two issued artifacts until Monday morning.
Consumers appreciated the company’s generosity and disassembled photos of the homes for the weekend.
Tom's business was burned. In the school, the circulation of rented items was strictly controlled, but the drunken air of freedom of use struck the tenants in the head, and they lost alertness. An unlabelled four-class student lightly put into the diary the report of the interrogation of the rapist murderer and a juicy, though black-and-white, photo of the naked figurative woman lying on the ground. From the victim’s side was a knife. The tentative explorer intended to enjoy his treasure in the evening, before falling asleep, under the blanket. But he did not take into account the fact that the father, a strict major-tank driver in order to control the educational successes of the minor, would check his diary. As long as it is actually a crack, proud as a cock, defiled in the courtyard under the envious gaze of less wealthy and lucky classmates. An open diary gave the father a completely unexpected aspect of the educational activity of the child. The father looked at the photo, read the protocol. Then he pulled out the narrow officer's belt from his pants, sits on the couch and waits for the baby.
Let us leave behind a heartbreaking story of clarifying the relationship of fathers and children. It is known only that it continued until night. It ended with the absolute and unconditional surrender of the children. Tank cliffs broke through the defense and attached the lover of sharp sensations to the wall. The frightened tenant surrendered all and everything. When I came home, my mother drank from a glass of valerian. The grown up quietly rolled into the corner with the trousers down. The major walked around the apartment like a tiger in a cage. It is a nightmare. Do not forget,
The 75th year. Pornography and speculation. The article. Unambiguously. There are other children.
aggravating circumstances. The end of his career was very clear. Who would believe that all of this is from washing...
But the courage prevailed. And the next day, on Sunday, the brave tank driver went home to the director of the school. He found several other hidden eyes of his parents. It became a little easier, the phenomenon clearly took a mass character. After a small but bright scandal, in which parents demonstrated to the director the materials found in the children, and the director twice fainted, they came to the conclusion that something needs to be done. All Sunday, the initiative group developed a tactical plan. The headquarters were transferred to the school. From the well-deserved weekend all teachers were called to work, including the bodybuilder and the worker.
On Monday morning, special delegations were sent to the prosecutor’s office and to the attorney’s office. The rest of the cash resources of teachers and initiative parents were directed to the pebble. The class was closed on the key and the students were forced to turn out their portfolios and pockets. The Prosecutor’s Office promptly attracted the police.
The seized witches were placed in the corridors in cardboard boxes. The director of the school once again stumbled into rescue fainting and no more of him came before the arrival of the ambulance. The ambulance did not leave, she had something to do. The city was on my ears. In the cabinet of the first secretary of the party municipal committee was seated the police and prosecutor's leadership, the director of Horno, the auditor and the director of the school. White, like a mill, was sitting at the head of the lawyer's office. Everyone trembled. The question was barbed. I had to react somehow. But no one knew how to react in this situation.
A criminal case for the distribution of pornography? The head of the Bar Association? Spread pornography by throwing it out? Will the chickens laugh at the seeds? So he wasn’t there alone... It was a whole gang... A scandal for the whole area! The children organized a gang to spread brutal pornography... With the participation of almost the full staff of the local lawyer’s college, beauty! Here the chair began to roll under the head of the city council, such a perspective could not be allowed.
Eventually a willful decision was made. The first secretary contacted the head of the regional council of lawyers and in two words described the situation. He whispered, jumped into a service car and was in the city in the evening.
N. On the evening of the same day, the head of the city council was dismissed in connection with his retirement, having previously caught him a strict excuse for violating the rules of storage of documentation. Everyone else pretended nothing had happened. The seed was promptly issued a certificate of eight-class education and under this noble pretext was washed out of the school walls. And for a long time, the schoolchildren whispered to each other the meaning of individual terms they learned from the protocols studied. Learning is not always light.