Today, someone sold happiness at the crossroads.
It lay the medium of hooks and old bright dresses,
Among the tired dust books, the medium of brushes and chalk.
It lay and looked incredible at all.
The people walked by, rarely who suddenly approached the counter
Buy brochure, calendar, needle, thread, pin.
And an indifferent look slid along a stupid little one,
And happiness was so asked to the house, so timidly and awkward.
Praying glanced, barely cutting,
But "someone" passed by and happiness silenced.
Donello, I walked home. In pockets hearing hands.
The merchant collected the goods, slightly fought with boredom.
I would have passed, but suddenly it hurt and sad
A helpless unhappy look, as if the sigh is farewell.
I walked out, and behind the glass of plastic showcase
A lumpy chick trembled from grief and resentment.
Lumps tired, wanted to warm, frozen at this fitness,
But unfortunately, the lump was not needed anyone.
- And how much does it cost? - My voice trembled from tension.
- What? It? - It! - Yes, take it, it's some mute!
I carefully took a lump, he pressed him to his chest
Having wrapped in the folding coat home almost ran.
Fucked to warm. Mostly soon! To warm with frosty streets,
And even glare lanterns as if smiled ...
And smiled white snow, and the sky. The world laughed.
There was still a person that happiness did not rush.
I brought a lump in the house and it became suddenly clear
That I will not give it to anyone, and I will not return back.
Posted by: Larisa Rubalskaya
Reads: Olga Petrova
