The Last Fishing

Vasya – my comrade operator-extremist bought somewhere in the Yaroslavl village a house near the water, to come there in the summer with vodka, and back with fish, if lucky. I picked up the car with my brother. Terrible, not especially painted and even without wings, but the trailer turned out to be quite spacious and clearly strong. We loaded up to the refusal with all the rugged good and spandored to "Niva". I was also summoned to three, in a purely male company, to go missing for a week, to remember youth, to cook ears.

But the day before the departure, Vasyn's grandfather, a godfather and a Moscow intellectual in some generation, met, so, he also asked us for fishing.

Vasya and his brother, of course, began to answer him:

- Grandfather, well, you yourself think, four hundred kilometers in the heat to shake, and also your wheelchair (grandfather, then failed to fall, broke the hip neck and temporarily moved to the wheelchair). Well, okay, let the wheelchair go to the trailer, but no matter, grandfather, why are you so nervous? You’re ninety-two and you’re under pressure.
- Nothing that pressure, twenty grams of watermelon I will take as a hand... That is the fact that I have ninety-two, and I have never been fishing, but just gathered. Thro his life he has been breathing lead in his printing. And then, who takes me to the first and last fishing, like my grandchildren?

The roof was nothing, took my grandfather.

And here, in the evening, on the terribly liquid road after the rain, we naturally stuck. And also in the hill. All we needed was fifteen meters to the top of the hill, and here it is, our village. "Niva" roars, dirt is thrown, and we rise in the trailer, the veins are torn. One behind the wheel, two push, then we change, only the grandfather in the front seat sits, cries, worries. We have already removed the bags from the trailer and the inflatable boat and the wheelchair. There was only a diesel generator left, but it only weighed like a tank.

Here we stood back again, and we cannot move a millimeter, suddenly "Niva" smelt and grandfather called us with Vasey. We have arrived.

I just turned around and saw that you were pushing the truck wrong.
In other words, are we wrong? We push it all, and what else?
You were like little kids and still wanted to go without me. The instruction is simple: one lies with the chest on the left wheel, the other on the right, resting your feet on the ground and the business will go. The trick is that the top of the wheel moves much easier than the whole wheel, and the hands here are not especially needed, the main legs.

Nothing to do, I lay down with a white shirt on the dirty wheel, and the matter really moved from a dead spot. Twenty minutes later we were on the mountain. They rested.

Vasya asked:

Grandpa, how do you know how to push the trailer? You have never had a car, you have no right.
There were no cars. and what? But I had a rifle and I drove it two thousand kilometers behind the wheel with my chest.

P.S

Two years later, Grandpa went to his squadron. They ride there, probably, their rifle, smoke and tell each other wretched anecdotes.

The Day of Victory.
Remember those guys.

“Dear man, I made blinkers and removed the car a little.
What did you do?
The Blinds.

My husband has not worked since the end of April. At first, he metals like a tiger in a cage without work, without the usual mode, without other people. Then relaxed a little. I drank wine and watched the series. I decided to do repairs in the kitchen. have done. We make the last strikes. A little worried that the money was running out. I thought it was enough until June. Yesterday he was sinking after reading a message on Viber. I thought at least someone was fired. I already introduced as breakfast, lunch and dinner I cook potatoes for children without salt and then he says, "From tomorrow I go to work. at all.”

My village grandmother, a child of war, received only seven classes of education, but she has a great desire for reading. She reads slowly, but thoughtfully and concentrated, and the circle of her interests is wide - from the poems, the most liked of which the grandmother writes out in a notebook, to the yellow press, which provides her visiting relatives.



Ten years ago there was a popular magazine "Speed-Info" and it regularly fell into the hands of my grandmother. She read articles and notes with curiosity, while clarifying in us, young and advanced, the meanings of her incomprehensible terms, such as “deep mint” (sic!) or “golden rain” and, having received our explanations, admired the inventiveness of the modern generation.



And here one day she got in the eye of an article, telling about a man with a sex organ more than 40 cm long. “Pff, only 40” would say any pick-up, but my grandmother was impressed by this information not for a joke. After sharing the sensational news with the household, the grandmother decided to bring knowledge to the world and called a stationary phone to a friend in the neighboring village.



A friend refused to believe in the truthfulness of the information, despite the passionate assurances of the grandmother that the miracle-man she did not invent, and read about him in the newspaper, and in the newspaper, as everyone knows, lies will not be written.



Outraged by the unbelief of a friend, the grandmother decided to throw her spruce, and after a few days the driver of the baking machine, traveling around the village twice a week, drove, probably, the most unusual load in his entire career - the magazine "Speed-Info", carefully uncovered and placed on the desired page.



And if anyone wondered why I, the child of two mathematicians, was engaged in sexology, I answered without a doubt that I definitely went to the grandmother. Pedanticity in references to primary sources,, too.

We go to the entrance.

Do you see a beautiful flower in the entrance?

Well I see?

I had a bag of selfies. When I smoked, I went out and threw 1-2 balls and watered. I see the flowers so beautiful. I think I am a good guy. I give the flower so much energy that it continues to bloom.

And what?

Six months later, I began to suspect. Flowers and flowers. I touched him. The plastic doll. I went to check the sight for every case - the glasses were removed. I did not know that the village was a village.

In the morning, a friend called my wife, they talked for a long time, I did not listen, but according to the answers "everything will be fine", "hold on", and so on. I realized something happened. When the conversation was over, the wife that Lena had filed for divorce. I did not communicate with Lena or her husband, but I was still interested, they married a little more than six months ago, I ask:

Couldn’t society bear each other’s isolation?

It was immediately apparent that she would not be with him for a long time.

...??? to

- Remember, I went to her before the wedding, they just started dating. And she invited him to visit, like to introduce me. And then she poured on him a soup, and eventually he struck her that the soup was hot and he burned his mouth. She cooled him by mixing with a spoon, but he was offended and did not eat. He sat down with us a little and left. I cannot imagine living with such a man.

When the result is not important, there are no irreplaceable ones.

Alexy woke up with a cell phone. Touching him under the bed, he leaned his phone to his ear.

Leah is healthy! What are you sleeping, right?

Called Igor, a colleague of work with whom they have been friends over the past year and often spent time together.

I can’t sleep anymore, Alexis.

Are you going to the parade? In other words, with portraits. We’re all here in the office, are you with us?

No, I will probably be at home.

In the sense? The answer surprised Igor. Day of Victory, of course.

I have no photos. How shall I go?

Well and what? If you want, I’ll give you a picture of my grandfather and you’ll go with it. I had two struggles, one on my father’s line and the other on my mother’s.

“Yes, Igor, what are you saying like that? They are your ancestors.

What about passing by with mine? What difference? Come and gather. After the parade, we head to the forest. Let us celebrate.

Alexis looked out the window. The May sun was already gaining strength, and filled the green trees with light and heat.

“Igor, don’t be upset, but I’m home today.

Why is he there? I heard someone’s voice in the dynamic. It goes, isn’t it?

— Wait, now — replied Igor to someone. Leah, let’s get up. What are you really? Or... he took a break. Do you hear? Has anyone fought with you?

Igor, let’s go without it. Alexis breathed up.

“Well, it’s all clear then,” Igor said somewhat ironically. Everything is understandable with you.

What do you understand?

It is all! I went to your page this morning, and there is not even a tape. Okay let me. Stay at home in sorrow.

And here...

Alexei did not have time to finish the phrase, as the trumpets were spread short, and there was silence behind them. He laid the phone on the floor and, dropped on the pillow, closed his eyes. After a few minutes, he breathed and got up from bed. After washing and brushing his teeth, Alexei dressed up and, putting on a light jacket, left the house.

Oh my neighbor! The Leha! I heard a familiar voice from the playground.

Alexey turned around and saw that his neighbor, Victor Romanovich, was mastering his hand on the staircase. He and his friends sat next to the sandbox. A few steps from him there was a small mangal on the ground, across which there were several shampoos, with pieces of meat on them. Alexey hugged him in response and was already going to go further, but the neighbor was determined.

and Leha! Come to us!

Alexei pointed his finger to the wrist of his left hand, trying to explain to Victor Romanovich that he was late, but he did not take care.

May you succeed! Go here!

Realizing that it was so easy not to get rid of him, Alexey walked towards the sandbox.

Congratulations to you, Lech! The neighbor tightly grabbed Alexei’s hand.

“And you with a celebration,” he replied.

This is Leah, my neighbor. Meet you guys.

The neighbor introduced each of his friends, and then stretched Aleksei a drink, half-filled with a transparent liquid.

Let’s drink for the victory.

“I don’t drink much, Uncle Witt.

Let it, let it. Today can be.

I am driving, I can’t.

There will be nothing. What there? and 10 grams. Even the smell will not remain.

Alexey took a drink in his hand and put it on a bench that replaced the table.

– Uncle Vitty, thank you, but I need to go.

Did you get it, and you put it back? Suddenly one of Victor Romanovich’s friends spoke. Or are you one of those?

From Which?

All, all have calmed down. Vadik, what are you doing? Victor Romanovich stood up between them, spreading his hands to the sides. He does not want to drink, let him not drink.

“I know that,” Vadiq whispered, “has anyone fought with you? Why are you silent?

“Vadik, get tired,” another friend engaged in the conversation. Why did you hit the boy? You see, young man. He probably doesn’t know what a celebration is today.

That is what I am talking about! When he turned, Vadik rounded his eyes. He wanted to add something more, but only shrugged his hand and, bringing out a pack of cigarettes, smoked.

“I’ll go, Uncle Vit,” said Alexey quietly.

“Aga, go, Lesh, go,” Victor Romanovich, guiltyly turning his eyes to the side, sneered. Don’t get offended by Vadik, okay? He takes this celebration very seriously. Both of his grandparents died in the war.

“Nothing,” Alexis cried, “I understand.

He came out of the courtyard, reached the parking lot and, tapping the alarm barrel in his pocket, opened his car. Starting the engine, he put his hands on the steering wheel and lowered his head on them. When the engine warmed up, Alexei turned on the transmission and went to the road leading out of the city.

*** by

“And I say to him, ‘I don’t have pictures,’ what am I going to do? He said to me, “Everything is clear with you.” What does he understand? If I really don’t have them? Some hints are still stupid... He thinks I probably have something to be ashamed of. I think some of my ancestors were traitors, or something like that.

Alexey shrugged his hands and sat down on the trunk of the fallen tree.

The one in the yard. Also a strange person - once you don't drink, it means one of these. Which “these”? I don’t understand... – he shrugged his shoulders and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the rear side of his palm. - I didn't put the picture on my page - it turns out that you are ignoring the holiday. The tape was not attached to the antenna - a traitor. I did not drink for Victory - it means something is wrong with you, something is wrong with your soul. Is it right? You know, even someone felt guilty today.

He silenced and, breaking the grass, began to turn it in his hands.

Even at school I was sometimes called a fascist. In a joke, of course. By May 9, all classmates brought photos of their grandparents. They talked about them, about their actions. Sometimes even medals were shown. I never told anything. What had I to say? What did they all lose in that war? Everyone, like one, has disappeared. Who is interested in such stories? All the heroes... What am I telling you? You know it better than me.

Alexis looked at the side. The trees of the old forest stood around him silently, as if they were listening to his words. He turned his eyes and looked at a small hill in front of him, on which a small, no more than a meter high, metal obelisk with a bended star on top. There was no name or date. Alexey stood up and, gathering the grass pulled from the tomb of the nameless soldier, took it aside. Then he came back and sat down on the barrel again.

I will sit with you a little longer. Both will always be more fun. Who knows, maybe somewhere now and with my grandparents someone came to talk. It would be good. They would probably be pleased.

Philip Kirkorov, when he saw on Easter on television, as disguised pops at the worship, understood that at his concerts he was not dressed.

In 99% of dreams I die. When I was a child, I was awake with tears and sweat.

Now it is the opposite - in the dream did not die, so the day will be crazy. It was as if he did not get up from that leg.



But my biggest nightmare is the toilets. I am an adult person with no particular mental problems, I can fall into bed because of the dirty toilet in my sleep.

At first they appeared in random places, in the middle of the forest, in the safe, in the hallways.

Then I learned to distinguish false unitases from normal and stopped sinking in bed.

But they began to appear in normal places.

I learned to determine my location. For example, in a dream I am in the guests, but I know for sure that I am sleeping in the shelter now.

I learned to wake up in the toilet.

But they moved to a new level when I dreamed I woke up and went to the toilet where I fell asleep. Then I came up with a new way - I bite myself by the hand and if it hurts + a trace remains (I have a curved bite, but in a dream it is normal), and it triggers me and throws me out of sleep when I do not contact.



Now I can't sleep the toilet almost, thank God, but after this comment, I think I will have to fight the evil again at night...

Xxx: I don’t understand at all how you can go to nature on a shale and not take mangal and shampoo with you, unless you accidentally forget or fall out. They would have even forgotten what kind of organization this is.

Yyy: Well, this often happens, I remember my friends called me for shakes, said only to grab mangal, shampoo, meat, vodka, juices, cigarettes, vegetables, bread, salt, ketchup, single-use dishes and towels. In turn, they promised to help with the straw.

...and brought us to the place, and then carried the bugs around the houses.



And after all this: "the shrimp was shit, the meat hard, the vodka bitter, the place dirty, the road ugly."

Zzzz: Here was the scarf.

Muslims have upheld their national traditions.

Moreover, the paranoia was dressed for everyone.

In Belgrade found an underground chess club!!!

Belgrade police went to check the complaint of residents of one of the capital districts and found an underground working chess club.

Worse than the underground museums of St. Petersburg.

VCIOM conducted a public poll on the attitude to amendments to the Constitution. According to the results of the survey, the quarantine has been extended.

I remember a story from my childhood, in the 90s. My mother had an employee, a single mother, the son grew up, six years old. And a man came to them in the department, so to himself, neither fish nor meat, but... a man! Well, immediately the collective plans turned around, how to bring them together. And then the occasion turned - this employee told me that she bought a microwave with a grill, word for word, a man once - and suggested that the microwave to put on. They agreed that he would come to visit for the weekend. He came, with the chicken, pushed it into the microwave, with jokes-supplements, festive, the son under his feet turns. The day! - Get a smoking chicken, appreciate - oh, succeeded in fame, red, with a crust. A very good microwave! The man gets the foil, spreads, wraps the chicken and takes home, eats.

Recalled a note read in the early 1990s about how in American fucking a man penetrated into the house to single women, awakened them in the middle of the night, dragged under a gun into the bathroom, and there forced them to brush their teeth, from which he was doubled. No physical contact with people. And disappeared, leaving a dissatisfied and surprised citizen (with clean teeth).



YYYY :

Have you cleaned well?

and d.

This is great, I went for a peaceful night.

I’m sure she’ll get more than she’ll ever get that night.

How do you respond to your demands to raise your salary in the current situation?

With understanding.

It is cruel!

With the understanding that you will not get anywhere from them in the current situation.

I got a new job somewhere at the end of the last century. We were taken by bus to the company, our drive was a little more than half an hour.



And then I began to pay attention to some weirdness - when boarding the bus, the men broke the doors and took seats. They occupied them, and then gave them to women, including at the next stops.



It turned out that at the first stop there were almost one man, and when the bus approached the landing place, the ratio of Em and Joe was about 50 to 50.

(The ratio of men and women in the company was approximately 9 to one.)



And the strange thing was here - some ladies were driving standing from the first stop to the last, and others sat down immediately.

At first I decided that the seats would give way to the aunts from their shop, no! They could have caught a stranger. Age did not play a role. The pre-retirement lady stood, and the young woman sat. The same goes for the return route.



After a few days, I was completely confused and asked our men straight - why are some standing and others sitting? And I was explained.



Everything turned out to be absolutely logical - they are sitting at the office, and they are standing at the office. Why give up a place to a man who will sit at work all day and nothing heavier than papers in his hands? Here it turned out - there are ladies from the office, including pre-retirement grandmothers, whose working tool is a computer and a handle, and there are girls who work with a spade and a hook-key, those who may not be able to sit for a shift.

This is class antagonism in a separate bus.

A lot of things can be done at home on self-isolation. For example, not doing anything.

Manokhin has an accident at the facility... (Kin-Zza-Zza)

There was a disarmament for a work trip, and "here" is still a joke-add-on, and there, in another country, at the facility, already a "pre-coronavirus" karachuk. In normal times: a bunch of desire for a trip + salary, and here all the "olds" have hemorrhoids or business. I regret the experienced boss of the young "fighter", not to avenge! Application or ride + 10% to the salary. When young, the sea is on the knees. He went to rescue the company. Saves the day, the other, in the evening listening to the news in the ears in the Basurman language.

And a lot of interesting things are happening abroad: the staff is getting smaller and smaller every day (everyone can go to the home office). Who is still alive in the navy, hands are washed three times a day, temperature is measured :-) One day the cosmonauts were hit in the scavengers: a positive colleague was found, the entire circle of communication - for 14 days in quarantine. The commander tried to explain to them that he had a plane in 3 days, and he could not sit for another 14 days, but the cosmopolitan was very convincing: the flight we will postpone to you, you are banned from the airport.

Thank God, after a week of house imprisonment, in the hotel, the results of the tests come - he has no virus, can fly away! But the airport is already closed together with the borders :-))) By the way, the hotel is closing too... the mayor's order - you would collect the suitcase, and where to go?! to

For the second time, luck smiles at him: he has not forgotten his fatherland about his offspring. There will be a special flight of the Ministry of Emergencies, but you need to reach not the local airport, but the capital. Closed cities and borders. A seeker of sharp sensations arrives in the three-way flight of the Ministry of Emergencies, ready to kiss everyone. No one wants to kiss.

A flight to Moscow arrives, tears turn out from the eyes of the young "fighter", but it is too early to rejoice! 14 days in isolation.It is already in the second!! The second step is morally easier. Certainly theirs! It is very close to the hometown of Mochosransk - one flight. During this time, the country is also undergoing drastic changes.

After long customs, a fireman-command aircraft finally arrives in the district center of Mukhosransk. Are you from Moscow? We are waiting for you, please come here! For you, almost heated apartments, for 14 days!Do not thank you!

And our hero moves the third term on the same article!It is ?

Sitting at home is not the worst thing.