My mother had an original Haishnikov brigade in the area. We call it “the conscience of the pedestrian.” I also suffered somehow from it: I run somehow across the road... yeah... a little off the crossing... and here on the side is delivered an enhanced dynamic, thirsty and reverberating, like the voice of the Canterville ghost:
The Woman! Woman, you are not ashamed! You are not ashamed to run across the road. Somebody will hit you! Will it happen because of you? Did you teach traffic rules at school?! to
In general, I managed to run, but I never ran there again.
A month later, I sit with my mom in the guests, summer, the windows are open, and suddenly, out of the window, familiar unbreakable calls:
and man! A man in a red shirt. Yes yes you! Do you see Zebra? Is it so hard to walk 50 meters?
And she follows him. Meadedly. and shameful!
I stood by the window and whispered with red ears. Better to get to the zebra!! to
Today came the apocalypse.
We stand with my mother at the bus stop, and we observe a strange thing: a grandmother runs through the crossroads, not much of what is not in accordance with the rules, nor is it in terms of concepts (I cross the road, only if I do not disturb drivers - corporate ethics :)). For it runs with a zigzag in the midst of the stream and glitters at the crossroads.
And then out of the corner turns out, shining red and blue, like a Christmas tree, the Conscience of the Walker. He began to preach:
Grandma in a white hat. Where, where are you running?! to
Grandma little that does not listen to the trumpet voice, so still weeps and cries:
Stay away, I am late!
This champion runs to the stop, tries to catch for the bumper leaving the road, but the one accidentally releases a club of smoke into her face and is taken to the dark.
And the Conscience of the Pedestrian, meanwhile, does not hurry to stop. and stands.
Grandma spit after the road and rushes to the haishniks.
You have seen it, right? This is fucking! I am so late! Take me away!
The Haishnik is out. Servantly opens the back door of the grandmother and knocks into the salon. The grandmother joyfully enters there. The frozen people at the stop, of course, start to be outraged: not much of what the grandmother shuhra has led on the road, so now she will still be carried out!
And here the haish machine, not moving from place, begins to tremble and scream.
It turns out that they locked the doors and fined the grandmother!

Conscience is a terrible thing, it turns out! It is :)