Can we consider a vampire as a brother? Joanna's Page 62

Yulia Ivanova

Can we consider a vampire as a brother? Joanna's Page 62

The game became more and more bloody.

Minions of fortune, the beautiful and young; businessmen, journalists, entertainers; were killed, torn to shreds new toys.
Here and there flashed beastly bad fights between family members, bosom buddies, people, yesterday lived in perfect harmony and side-by-side.

Picks a bloody war with no end in sight, no winners and no losers.
But sometimes a fabulously growing accounts for the sale of the soul.

All of the most ridiculous, unbelievable and terrible happened, good and reasonable if crashing on an invisible wall.

Woland's retinue seized rudders. And clowning, jeering, howling with delight, beneath all these daring dance, party, fighting, mating, orgies, ritual murders, drunkenness, meetings, terrorist attacks, the courts, crazy orders rolled doomed ground ball in the hole.
To the last line.

Everywhere you turn around, no matter how shuffling deck came out grinning triumphantly queen of spades.
Some vampires cleaned appoint another in a year or two pop up third.
Or sit on the old power seats, rested and cheerful clicking dentures.

And with some creepy vampire faces, though Joanna and told myself that they have an image of God somewhere in the bottom of the soul, and the soul is in the back of the enlarged flesh ...

Sometimes it seemed that something has to change. Productive choices pop from time to time public protector...
But again, nothing happened.

Prinze defenders proved impotent fear the difficulties, overgrown fat, and too gradual transition into the category of pimps. They took off sheepskin and sometimes turned more sharp-tongued earlier.
Sighed: "The people are silent."

No, he was silent, he inexplicably again and again voted for "rapists, robbers, torturers people".

Well preserved in the father's house of the bride, stolen, disgraced and sent to the panel, broken adores her pimp and suffers a beating for a piece of bread and a glass of wine.

Had a house, a family with many children, boys, girls, black, white, red. Raised in austerity, in moderation, but still more liberal than under Sharia.

Now they curse parents tyrants who were not allowed "to Africa" to pluck the forbidden "figs, dates." In general, such-and-so - to eat at a separate table nomenclature.

People cannot be in obedience, as the king, under Stalin, the "Soviet dictatorship."
Now the people chooses a ruler and, as I see Joanna, is solely responsible to Heaven for their choices and actions of their elected representatives.

Again she was making up for the elections and posted flyers:

Beware of voting for Yeltsin,
On the Day of Judgment will be next.
The Lord will turn away; Call, do not call,
And say, "You choose. You too in blood!"

Father Alexander strongly advised her to calm down.

Joanna tried and pray it again boils down to:
"Lord, let it be as it was - silly conventions, lectures, artistic council, bans, features, queue Glavlit snitches, study."
Only deliver us from these.

Okay, do not send them ulcers and floods, even digging in their gardens, nursing grandchildren ... Suppose that, in the end, hang out with the loot and their whores in Hawaii and the Canary Islands...
Only deliver us from them.

Luzhino, home, garden, flowers. Temple, books, blank paper.
Family, the memory of Ignatius.
And of course, the belief

She should be happy and thank God.

Why is it so unbearable pain? What unseen vessels, nerves stretched from its very heart to all corners of the country, to the half-snookered "scoop" of all colors and languages?

"How it all happened, what night?"

They a part of her, she is a part of them. Their humiliation and trouble her trouble and humiliation.

And when the poor fellow-miners begged handouts from the "fat" that they themselves put on the throne, she would howl with pain and pain.

Alternatively, indeed "it's necessary"? Take the seven circles of shame, dirt, blood, crucifixes? Perish in a new capacity to rise from the ashes?

Or in the words of Father Tikhon, is indeed the "last days", and the salt have lost his savor, and rot your whole body?
We will pull him into hell foul humanity.

What is the use to save those who do not want to see and hear?

What is this blindness, and deafness - our sin or witchcraft, Satanism, zombies dark forces?

Her longing for the barricades from pride, foolishness or indeed criminal now inactive?

She was no longer able to tear yourself mapping "all" are inseparable from it.

Together they listened once Sovinformburo report. Read some books and newspapers. Watched some movies. Learned from a textbook. Visited each other's homes and live by the same laws.

She realized that she has always been not only "I" but "we".

To escape from this "we"?
From "CIS inhabitants" whom she sometimes hated and despised?
But it is with her every time flayed. From it did chop. She was raped, bombed and driven.


In the same "pre barricade" condition was and Varya Zlatova.
Publishing it fared worse, the market of religious literature quickly sated.
We bought all sorts of great demand horoscopes, palmistry, dream interpretation, benefits and other card divination, omens, and other magic and devilry, not to mention flooding the market with products sectarian.

Cooking complained satanic invasion, all rising, even in church affairs power of money.

Then Varia hate money.
Lamented Yegor patched a businessman with his vulgar and delusions.

Forever deep in fuel oil and gasoline, all things considered, say, want to buy a broken-down whether the dispensary, or sanatorium and build a brighter future.

Another Manilow is very few of them were in our history!
Cooking vainly tried to persuade him to go at least to Ghana with Gleb, take part in the restoration of the monastery.

"From this man's ability to engage in God knows what. That this stupid guitar, dance all day long, these concerts, the girls at the door. Else cooler: tires, building. You should have seen his hands now!

To marry him, that is what. Or in our monastery...

At "our people", yet progress is good. Though it is also constantly depended the lack filthy lucre. Gleb periodically came punching at various sponsor donations.

Joanna connects to raise funds mobilized Ignatius became rich spiritual children, their friends and Philip's.
Gleb talked about life and times, admired Ignatius' paintings, but made it clear that Joanna did not dare to think about visiting Svyatorechensk.

It seems he was still afraid of her, regardless of age. Ignatius continued to sponsor who was the embodiment of his dream of freedom.
3ato, as if in consolation, brought especially for Joan color photos and slides of paintings Ignatius. Ignatius himself, the monastic way of life, economy and environment of untouched nature.

Forested hills, slow icy rivers, meadows with wild tulips and poppies, taiga animals, birds.
Then began to bring movies, by the way, it is "on the level" of which was going to make a great film about the history and restoration Svyatorechensk's monastery money by selling tapes for the bells and future endeavors.

Joanna brought Gleb with familiar professionals to help assemble and bring to mind a future tape, and, of course take part in seeing material where one of the protagonists was the father of Andrew, abbot the and the reducing monastery of Svyatorechensk.

The priest and monk.
Former in a previous life bohemian artist, a drug addict, a drunk, a dissident and rebel Ignatius Darenov.

"Born again."

Ignatius on the scaffolding for painting the dome. Ignatius is the liturgy. A walk on the construction of a hotel for pilgrims. Ignatius in the cell shows sketches for future paintings.

Ignatius with his father, a former secretary of the regional committee. A representative of the Soviet regime once closed the monastery.

And, as if by chance, for her, snatched the camera Gleb on the wall, "Joanna."

Saw each other as if to Ignatius.

He increasingly lost weight, seat is a real "father of the desert."
But are apparently "in the combustion process," the best for the state of spiritual creativity Ignatius admiration when he chewed himself.

If he succeeded, finally, the light of Tabor? And it is good that the Lord took him away from the ghoul torn the country apart...

Pray for us, Father Andrew, pray, brothers Svyatorechensk's monastery to Lord saved from evil...

Then Gleb brought a tape with the latest Ignatius' paintings from the series "Babylon", and Joanna shivered.
It was, perhaps, the terrible early Darenov.

He once wrote to the time of transition from life to death and decay.

Then from death to life, resurrection.

Now he has turned people into animals. One eye of man, and the other - is a beast. One hand was the human, and the other already pad, though not on her hair and nails.
Due to bending, teeth, posture. Sinister colors like decaying inside clothes.

"Monastery of yours is Russia."

Father Andrew and a robe was chainmail.

Color of the pine trees on the sunset picture Ignatius stained with blood and fire.
Painting lived her life, she no longer soothed and led to heaven.

It was the front line.

Soon the line crossed and their family.
So far, as far as Joanna knew Philip just scared - that something will blow up next to the car, then set fire to the door ... There were some anonymous phone calls and threatening letters to Lisa and children.
Philip was a player gambling and not easily frightened, was not going to back down, he feared for his family. They hired bodyguards - to school, to shop, to walk.

Lisa from such a life completely worn out. Abandoned his show, theater, began to take any and Relanium and Seduksen, hypnotics, who once severely poisoned.

Philip then quickly sold the already almost finished giving a lark and bought a home in Greece, where, and Lisa moved to Katyushka.
Artem determined to college.
And the Phil, with bodyguards and bulletproof vest was wound, in Russia, in Greece, for the company.

Built apartment more like Smolny, and paralyzed mother-body became weaker, the stronger the revolutionary spirit. Uttered fiery speeches, which are then broadcast in a record at the meetings.

Philip called his mother to move in with him over the hill - and Lisa will be easier, not so sad, they do get along well. And then, at any time can start riot.

In "riot" Joanna did not believe, considering that from soap operas to the people at all disappeared brain, spine and will broke.
That people finally chose God's gift to an egg.

"From your own eggs," roughly summed up Philip.

And there he is, the so-called people?
Or just farm submissive zombies - to maintain and supply the latter-day cannibals?

New Breed the CIS inhabitant

The followers of Christ voluntarily gave himself to be crucified for the sake of truth and heavenly kingdom.
Communist martyrs endured suffering and hardship for the sake of a bright future in the world.

For what they are suffering?

Let her Artem and Katia could safely walk to Greece and to Oxford, while the children of their own, along with the teachers fall into the hungry fainting?

For the sake of all these fried called "market economy"?

For the sake of uniting with the so-called "civilized West" - the dream of Russian Smerdyakov?

It turned out badly. It turned out that tolerates this amorphous biomass, were once great Soviet people, in the name of the coming Kingdom of Antichrist.

Society of unbridled consumption, lack of spirituality and depravity, tied sin of all nations of the earth.

But Joanna (as explained by Philip?) SHeas spliced with this biomass.

No, the biomass was not included in her inner world. In her relationship with God, Ignatius, with itself, it was something else.

How to explain to my son that her destiny cooped up in the attic of his childhood, in the darkness, among the rats to the ghosts, in this terrible dead enchanted world and wait.

And pray to God for deliverance, knowing, believing that sooner or later you will hear it from somewhere Levitan: "From the Soviet Information Bureau."

"The order of the Supreme Commander".

And stairs dozens of running feet will knock, with flashing torches, illuminating the darkness of the familiar, lively, happy faces.
With open dusty frame will crack and throw and all side by side in a rush to cling to the window to see the last of the black serrated edge of the forest flashes victory salute.

She cannot leave his post, a certain place in God's mysterious, magical, and terrible their country.

How to explain this to his son?

Forgive me, Philip, that I, a poor mother did not teach you this.

Today cloying and insipid
In any banana paradise
Only in Russia is interesting,
As the edge of the abyss.

We Soviet people "mobilized and called to" soldiers invisible front, sitting in scattering and darkness and waiting for the break first night red rocket.
Or sinister tailed star hangs above the ground - Sling, released the Hand of God.

It is time. And stand as one to defend the right to go their own way.

Let us in these confrontation barbarians, even among us there is no consensus on the question "What do you want?"

But we do know how to "do not." And that brings us together.

We know that the weak and sinful, but unites us resolve to swim against the current.

Sleeping knight kingdom awaits which will come at the appointed hour and wake us.


Philip asked her to look after granny flat and in his absence.
Three was many nurses, however, more than enough; all mother's-in-law fellow member on the Communist Party, and even some new faces, many intellectuals.

It looks like they have in the apartment platted kind staff - always milled, printed, met, argued, protested.
But, the truth, the apartment was in perfect order, nothing is lost, mother-in-law and Joanna, it was fine.
When there were Philip and Dennis, the "revolutionaries" as blown away by the wind.
With it, they do not stand on ceremony mother- in-law announced that she is "ours."

They called her by name, fed dumplings (eat here exclusively purchased ravioli was filled with bundles of all freezer). And drank tea - always on the stove boiling steam kettles.

Considered a gourmet coffee drink. In general, every whim to eat reprehensible, when people are starving and misery.

With that Joanna was quite agree. Chewing rubber dumplings, listened to complaints about the electorate irresponsible and corrupt media. Willing to write for rallies catchy poems and posters.

The apartment was like the Smolny 1917. Speech becomes steeper, slogans, militancy, and people thinner and meaner.

With them, she let out a little steam.
Though she knew that Dorval to feeders, many of the "People's Avengers" will also seize and gorging.

New, ghostly phosphoresce as the cemetery at night, wandering and shocking names merciless pigging out with the cameras.

And prestigious priest, sanctifying action.

Soul thirsted as "waterless desert," and Joanna longed for a time when everything seemed clear and simple Luzhino's work on earth, Father Tikhon.

Even Ignatius there on Mount Olympus, in the solitude, the changes got, what to say about it!

To pray, to dig into the ground, read Florensky, then walk through the woods with oro, digesting read. Listen evening chatter of birds.

But it is at the Ostankino needle.
It cannot without hate, misery, disgust. Without this "evil day."

She became a masochist. She was like the air had to be let go is not hourly bitterness.
And the horror felt at times like it with hatred sprout claws and fangs, ready them in one's throat.

Rip them like ticks from the body of the country and push, push.
She was afraid that one day he heard a whistle robber, still clung, though not a good brother to brother.

But are the vampire brother?


Then Yegor appeared again.

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