A session of black magic. Joanna's Page 59
A session of black magic. Joanna's Page59
Everybody have sat at the table, by the standards of luxury in the wilderness feral Joanna, and mother in law flatly refused to leave his room in an imported wheelchair and join the feast.
Grandma had to convince Joanna.
'Mother, put on your flak jacket,' advised Philip, her there, '"Aurora" under the bunk.'
In-law stared at Joanna with a view guerrillas who want to "split" the enemy.
Rejuvenated, well-groomed, she was sitting in the comfort of his chair and listened to the tape then almost taboo Soviet songs. Joanna silently touched his lips to dry parchment cheek, smelling something familiar, far away.
Surely "Red Moscow"?
Our fields are not searched the eye,
I do not remember our cities
Our word is proud "comrade"
'Dearer to us than all the beautiful words,' steadily write Paul Robeson.
She suddenly found himself dropped to the mother's in law chest and cried,
'Lord, what we've done!' How did hurt, Lord.'
Shaken-law, finding his voice, said that this is the best moment of her life to know that at least one in her family was not a traitor. That the deceased father Denis is very glad to this.
But no need to despair, people already rising from its knees and "the sky is blue again will again be in the parks of the carousel."
Joanna was not at all an optimist and could not calm down, mourning a dead one's country the one sacred. And not the corporeal shell that requires funds to operate on the animal level. Nothing more.
Who would have thought that their long-standing conflict in-law will be resolved on an ideological basis!
They suddenly found themselves on the same side. With one great common grief, common active rejection of the new order and with a fanatical willingness to "stand-feeding."
Not knowing for what, but knowing exactly against what.
A path and far away, and long,
And we cannot turn back,
Hold on, geologist, hold, geologist,
You wind and sun brother,
Arm in arm, they sang thin girl's voice on the tape.
'You know, our Christ was also a Communist,' said in-law.
"Our Christ!" Truly, the Lord works in mysterious ways.
The door Katya face was pushed
'Grandma, we're waiting.'
'Yes, my grandmothers,' sighed the mother in law,' and you now grandmother turned gray. 'Thought perhaps you and I, that is the end of life.
But he warned and about the sharpening of the class struggle, and the hostile imperialist encirclement, I have everything written down.
And we do not believe, laughing. Paranoia, they said.
Won the fifth column of the camps was released, country plundered, destroyed and run. Geeks!
They sat at a table nearby.
On the policy agreed to remain silent. They drank to Katya for Lisa, both grandmothers, and for the last three generations hail.
Philip drank only juice:
'I am now a mother, not an alcoholic, a workaholic - he smiled, caught her eye.'
'Well, we'll drink to victory,' said the drunken mother in law, Joanna, winking, for our victory!'
'Cabinet has long sold out, the citizens, said Philip, - is plated bed with drawer.'
'And then this reptile slapped, angrily retorted in-law. Kadochnikov slapped, remember? Name devotee of the Soviet people.'
'Grandma, you ave promised! Katya shoved a banana in her mouth.
' Business that your drug, delusion, whispering too drunk Joanna, sitting down to his son. Do not interrupt; we are not often able to talk.
I know what a bad mother, I am very sorry for you.
Failed to teach the main, and maybe you cannot teach it, and I do not know.
She stroked prickly, spiky fashion, hair blond son and quite moved, when, as a child, rubbed his hand on her cheek
On a request stop. Remember, you are not a bar is a ball back and forth, not a cash register and a bag of green.
Change life on bucks is like to score a brilliant nails.
Stop it, come to me and try to figure out together.
'You, Mom, ever spun a hula-hoop? Little to stop the hoop on the ground.
'Well, anyway, until you fall. Cool "until the last days stems", so what?'
'Do not twist, and the light should be, right, Mom? Lisa sat down next to them, I say it all the time: Take something for the soul.'
And that is not so dangerous.'
'Almshouse opens? Phil snorted.'
'Why the almhouse? Vaughn Savva Mamontov built railways.'
'And whether he died in poverty, or shot.'
'Well, I am also now a good living, poverty, you are not threatened. I can and more. Artem even now we have a star.
By the way, Mom, you do not want us to write lyrics?'
Lisa was back in shape, lost weight, was perfectly dressed. Together with Temka, pretty, relaxed, and at the same time unusually adults for their eleven - they looked good in the program "Sons of Mother," playing the conversational mini-performance on a variety of topics.
Going to soon connect and Katya.
'And really, the woman Joanna, why do we need foreign authors?' said Artem, lifting the family celebration camcorder. Pay them, and even texts written language broke.
We will have a family transfer as well?'
'Hypocrisy in-law muttered, "My mother and I are going to buy a fur coat. Humane to kill a poor hole?" Discussion on the topic.
And the audience at the time cats are eaten, because it is nothing more.
Your well-being is built on the bones of the people and the people you will be judged.'
'You first, Grandma, good-naturedly laughed Philip, Here, say spawned bourgeois!
'And rightly say. Are we, the Komsomol, were such? And then reborn omeschanilis.'
Rag rugs. The "thaw" that stupid, dissidents.
Nikita Khrushchev with his revelations.
Few of them planted!
Leave me alone, Katya, she again tried to defuse a revolutionary piece of banana.'
'You told yourself that my grandfather and you just have not taken.'
'Yes, I would have asked to sit itself to the end, only used our back. Did my grandfather, his children and grandchildren will destroy the home, and will betray the ideals of helping the traitors to fool people!'
'But you have promised.'
'Slut selling your TV! And intellectuals your shit. Lenin correctly said "Shit of the nation"!
Who pays for that and go.'
Artem shot in the heat raged senior Gradov.
'Grandma, do not make a rally.' Philip calmly flipped Katya nuts. Here children are present.
'Kids!' They see your kids? Infanticide!
'And so all the way, complaining Lisa, You'll come back often to you once she gets on. Well, the wife of a diplomat from a class hatred?
Just afraid of poison or planted the bomb, they are that old, that small. Well, then we collapsed with it?
But in fact it is right in many ways. Something is wrong, yes, mother. Carries us carries.
And to endure and do not want to think. Scary and children miserable.
'Let's sing,' she suggested loudly.
But Lisa, smart, tightened his thin silvery voice:
Hats off to the woods singing thrushes,
For the soul sing, not for fame.
'In fact, I thought of Joanna, every man for himself, he speaks his and no one is listening. One Lisa is all united.'
Something is about her.
At the insistence of Joanna Lisa and Philip were married. Lisa drove children to church on Sundays, administer the sacrament, but rather out of a superstitious fear not displease certain higher powers in this criminal uncertain times.
For her, matters of faith were not painfully sharp as for Ignatius, Joanna, the same mother in-law.
Lisa just lived in God, easily as breathing, with all its associated, strangers, with nature, with the world by some invisible threads.
She did not want to know about all she was trying to understand the other, sorry, sympathy, help.
She was one of that rare breed, for which the greeting "How are you?" Does require a detailed answer to the question, and not just as a courtesy.
These gifts of ownership, requiring extraordinary effort by Joanna, Lisa was given initially.
'Lord, what would we do without it?" thought Joanna.
Their family, no matter what, is made in these years "catsastroyka" when "hair stuck in my throat," "blood stand on end" and "bones run cold" feeling quite lucky.
And export Denis, Philip and prosperous, and Lisa with children, well behaved, "churched", without bourgeois habits. And with her new mother-in breathtaking armchair.
And yet there was something alarmingly bad, Voland's in this chair, and cell phone ringtones and Artem's camcorder.
And as shown in the news frames that bombing Iraq, a party, to nausea vulgar, overeat, and reptiles.
That ball of elite young offspring in velvet, d?collet? dresses, and jewelry for children's necks - in the monstrous impudence to intrusive advertising. In an angry, and, unfortunately, it is well-deserved comments in-law.
And join the feast her friend's surgery, announced as the end of the world would soon become a paid medical complex and costly operations now available to ordinary citizens.
In all of this really was a second place with flashing tails, hooves and saying black cats.
'By the way, Yegor Zlatov this your blessed, well, all this bard of candle singing. Now, by the way, Shinmontazh opened.
Welded, tire changes. Full primus currency. I recently caught a nail, drove, I look it is Yegor.
'What, asks you going next? Cook, soar, spikes.'
And his workers at it the people from the ensemble. Plow, by the way, not weak.
Do not believe me; I will give the address. To give?
Sing thee blessed, that money cannot buy happiness.
Really, "And you, Yegor"?
Joanna wanted to call Varya, cope with, but he never called.
Cooking recently also was in some euphoria as well restored churches can publish and sell any religious literature; conduct Orthodox circles (what she does not hesitate to use them.)
You can attend religious services right at home, during television broadcasts, and to contemplate the powerful with candles in their hands.
Cooking developed rigorous activity after leaving Hleb, absorbed the idea to restore the monarchy.
Joanna nodded yes, the new leaders of the church with candles and everything is fine.
But for some reason, again, imagining Bulgakov's Ivan Homeless. In ragged pants and sweatshirt, with a paper icon and wedding candles. Driven by the forces of darkness.
Recently, even Varya's enthusiastic oohs became its annoying, not to mention the reaction to what is happening other friends, with whom she sometimes need to meet.
Yes they are blind? With crazy?
Then she tried to argue themselves hoarse, cursing, indignant to hear back the same fierce malicious accusations of conservatism, Bolshevism, Fascism and idiocy.
Come spring, summer 93rd with the usual flower-and-garden-trading troubles. Pensions on what was missing, everything becomes more expensive. Its small flower business is rescued, although it went on sale luxury Dutch roses, chrysanthemums, lilies, gradually replacing the familiar flower girls from Sochi, Kiev, Chisinau, with their sodden cardboard boxes.
Everything was becoming a range of buyers, many of the same customers teachers, engineers, doctors, and even the actors now hurried past, averting his eyes.
Skinheads appeared in cherry jackets, white man in a black coat to toe, their slender, impossibly skinny girlfriend in an expensive leather with a toasty cheekbones and creaking knees.
To compete with abroad, had to make more intricate flowers and flourishes with cellophane paper tape. There are poor people begging on the stone soup, and children hunted rotten peaches.
Whether certain groups of Afghans, whether airborne "tipsy", occasionally falling down counters. Riot policemen with machine guns and dogs - in search of drugs.
But in a wild market, it can be said, had grown painlessly. Except for this growing sense of collapsing living space, chain-reaction collapse of everything.
Subterranean noise universal catastrophe, opens up the abyss, ready to absorb these cherry jackets, pyramid kiwis and bananas. Bright Papuan counters together about imposing buyers, sellers haired, homeless, hungry beggars and coached on drugs dogs.
And lecher scoops some rights, not understanding that "terrible happened."
What awakened "dormant Russian storm, by which chaos stirs."
In general, "Do you pray at night, Desdemona?"
Wholesale universal madness.
Bubonic plague, pitch and Terry Godforsakenness devilry, despite all this external religious "revival" - Deputies in robes, priests, bless the exchange and presentation.
Of porn, advertising and fighters on TV excerpts of worship and "Lives of the Saints."
She returned to the market in the evening, fatally exhausted.
Immediately led walk stale Anchar hungry. Helms brought from market waste, then to the darkness of the case "and ambulance emergency gang" things that could not wait to water, weed, cut flowers for tomorrow.
And nearly eleven behind hastily prepared, that God sent, food, watching the latest news - the next series of horror film. Hoping though something happened suddenly and all at once, like an angry father's cheek.
But in vain. Get up to mischief kids went hawking.
It turns out that he lived and chaos in their pitch laws.
It switches the program by debility series, half-naked and writhing pop and rock stars, impotent politicians who can hold a candle except in church or in the bedroom no matter.
By engorged like bugs bumbling big guys, powerful.
Enters the frame familiar faces.
Here they are yesterday's friends and good friends, brothers on cine shop. Many years side by side in perfect harmony. Joint survey, scoring, editing, parties, views, troubles, gossip, anecdotes, grumbling about any central board, which "do not let go," put on the shelf, cut out ...
Yet movies came out, played shows, printed books, and more, in general, it was possible. Just not right, not right through, think carefully.
Then scandalous congresses, coups - pancakes on a warm skillet. Any "Enough" and "Down."
Cost accounting, publicity and "a sweet word" freedom".
How many of them, what masterpieces created or announced to the world compared to the accursed "stagnation"?
"Labeled in Communism came to Russia." All at once collapsed.
Why this abnormal ferocious hatred for the country, to the former's security guards?
Who let too vigilant, funny and like a fool, but at the very least carry the service, protecting us and our living space from us as ourselves?
Throw slop from the bottom of the soul on the heads of citizens uncensored did not rush!
And for that, even decent fees in foreign currency, have a stole across world in casino play, there is all sorts stripteases, night clubs.
As said one late singer, God rest his soul:
'Suppose that during the October riots killed women and children, but now I can go to Paris."
Voland's session of black magic.
Dressed in rags overseas, citizens stomped fashionable shoes, grabbed gold coins rolling in from the ceiling, and Voland's suite fun at them.
And by the evening ran around the country bare half-naked person.
Gold coins, vouchers and longed millions turned papers.
Flared fire seemed unshakable house desecrated vermin.
Chubais on both your houses!
Flashed on TV familiar faces "penitents."
Officials, writers, actors, most of nomenclature.
Burned membership cards is a ritual passage to the "Feast of the Gods."
"Yes we had!" "Yes, we are always". "Friends" have not sustained mayhem.
And nobody said,
'If you believe that the system is so horrible and criminal silence, using all sorts of benefits and help strengthen it, then, you bastards, boys!'
And you have to repent before God and man to the end of life, and not to go to the Messiah.
And if you thought that a huge country, otherwise his life to defy all else the world may be a saint in conditions of severe cold war and a hostile environment, then you are idiots.
And it should be treated for the rest of the head.
Around one hundred and eighty degrees! And together.
She recalled Khan, Leonid's death, her ill-fated sketch. Today so tomorrow commercials; how do you want.
And one, the humor of the Prince of Darkness children from one family. Gaidar. Continuity of generations.
Truly a freshly washed house settles seven demons.
"Lukewarm" nomenclature for several decades under the guise of elite chicks maturing in snake incubator. Finally, after waiting in the wings. Hatched!
And now, after a long enforced fast, stay in the "pious shell", to deter the snake instincts - has spread, and devoured its own shell, on the country.
Hissing fat becoming more insolent.
Less interesting, terribly vulgar and bestial frankly, ludicrous. Yet it is this terrible his suddenly popularly razverzshimsya "underground" bastards.
And this brood with poisonous stings and hissing about "democracy and human rights" was openly anti-Orthodox, anti-Christian.
Against all the commandments at once.
Stir up some ancient event, poured buckets of dirt on the deceased, arranged frank television Sabbath with a symbolic killing of animals and eating corpses.
And in all seriousness, declared that all old history search of the truth is not worth a damn.
And truth in dollars, in presentations, in voyages, Tampax and the newspaper "Speed-Info".
Dirty, loose and washed away.
Who is over the hill for permanent residence who "lecture", honestly worked right to the sweet life? Back to return to the "liberation from communist slavery," the country is not in a hurry.
Only a few were horrified deed and duties.
"Labeled in Communism came to Russia."
Flashed at times in children's programs with their insect Anton Kravchenko (thank God, without spitting in the past). Just a man happy, you can now own what you want to publish, were used money.
But the latter, apparently, still not enough, and Anton long gone.
Rumored to be with his wife after serving somewhere abroad Nina invited to research whether the university, or in the laboratory.
Flashed on the wealthy and gor fat endless presentations Regina mistress art gallery, and may not have one. With its opening day, the newly made "geniuses" and memoirs about the "power of the persecuted," but it, Regina stored.
Then he disappeared at all.
Regina killed some kids on the way from the garage to the house. Not because of the masterpiece from the coat. Even mink, common Mouton. Strangled scrap wire, pulled earrings from the ears. Boots removed, coat, and something else.
Joanna could not hear any more, turn off the "criminal news," sat motionless, staring at the dead screen.
"That" Regina silver pantsuit lively and piercing smile from the past.
'Lord, what is this. Do something. Lord!'
Their life has crept horror soul cried the danger - her Geiger counter in the back of banging like crazy. I wanted to hide in a hole deeper, wrapped her arms around her knees and softly weep from fear.
They forcibly dragged into some bloody game with the inevitable loss, where instead of maps and figures the real people, and instead of boards - seamy underground.
Saved the Jesus prayer, constant, heart, as taught by Ignatius. And his parting gift. Sunset road to eternity.
She stepped on it, and felt that Ignatius near: his warmth, his breath.
Have mercy, O Lord.
Ahead was a fire. He blazed brighter with every move, and fear remained there, behind.
Awakened stirring chaos ball rolling away snakes with fear. Chaos feared fire and retreated.
And she knew that the chaos-fear it inside. And to burn, burn it, we should also take a step into the fire.
"We shall be saved, come out, but so as by fire."
"Fear not, little flock."