You told me about the raspberries, but I'm talking about the truth of life.
Ibid at Archangel, the summer hours of 6 pm, I go out on the balcony (we lived on the second floor, two-storey building with no amenities and rayonchik with six such houses and sheds around called "Shanghai") and see how the back of the house next door are two Friends Ensign, while thievish and businesslike manner. I begin to observe them. And each of those houses with a hole in the back of which are vertical pipes of the toilets in the apartments (that is obtained in each apartment domesticated village WC). Pit the outside locked wooden lid. When she arrives filled assenizatorskaya machine and pumped. A warrant officer like everything prraporschiki been drinking heavily. His wife found him in zanachke bottle of alcohol and defiantly threw down the toilet. The bottle flew through the pipe, fell into the muck and drowned. Прапор shined a flashlight into the hole, saw it and ran into the street to get home. He opened the lid weighed - not hand reach. He called his friend, he brought a long pole and wire. Primotali wire to the end of the stick in the form of a hook and just this moment, I found. They stand as fishermen - are trying to pick up. Like who goes by, they throw a stick (as uncomfortable in front of people in th .. not picking), and make themselves look: it get a light, then talk. How will people - again angling. And does. Then by a tractor drove their third friend, he saw, he stopped, looking deeply into the problem and left. A minute later resorted to wade to his waist. Dress them and jumps into the pit. And there on his chest, above his Prapor suggest: right, left, and flashlight. A few minutes later comes out all the dirty, but with a bottle in his hand. Nothing - normally. We went to the column with water, washed the bottle, a friend with his boots and then drank from the bottle. Of course everything was highly spiritual.
|