Я с детства занимаюсь творчеством, окончил музыкальную и художественную школы. Ходил в театральную студию на протяжении семи лет. В данный момент отдаю предпочтение писательской деятельности. Хочу связать с этим жизнь.
I have been mad on arting since my childhood. I graduated from the music and art schools. I used to go to a drama club for seven years. But now I prefer writing. I want to do this all my life.
Рассказ “The boy running down the street“
Lopping, dashingly, tantivy,
The boy is running down the street, it is wide and straight. The boy is running towards the May evening sun. Gentle rays are warming his freckled face, tender wind breathing down his neck. Boy’s bare feet are plunging in warm puddles have flowed after the rain on the pavement. Dust from asphalt is sticking to the wet soles.
There is town around him. It is large, because no matter how long the boy cavorts across the street, it has never ended. But the longer the boy didn’t stop the oftener hard, prickly and sharp things came across his feet. The boy didn’t hear the rustle of cellophane, plastic crackle and ringing glasses. He was taken by smell of freshly mown grass that tickled boy’s nose.
The boy galloped funny and frisky down the street running away not far from home, jumped from tile to tile trying not to step on the joints and ran through the plot with ringed Forged fences drawing a hand for the iron rod in the running. Lilac, wonderfully scented and gentle, bent over the boy, touching the sweet fragrant buds to his ridiculous face. At lilac, arms outstretched, one of which was holding a bottle, lay and snored a dirty man. The boy didn’t hear or see him and continued to run. But the man smelled tasteless, so the boy giggled, why lilac had such a strange smell?
May beetles unceremoniously flew the boy’s hair when he carelessly passed through to warm daytime sun street. Hands and feet were tingled sometimes – it was early mosquitoes biting him. The boy clapped his hands and feet on the go and don’t even think – was midge swatted or not.
There was peal in the distance, though the boy shut his ears to it. In the house, which he ran before turned the corner, sat an adult boy, he was older than our, and cried because parents wouldn’t let him into the church with them, and locked him in a closet. A boy running lopping didn’t even know of his existence and didn’t think about it and didn’t commiserate him. There were a lot of different houses on the boy’s street. Someone had chain-link fence, someone had palisade. Bushy thorny plants braided one person’s fence, the other had continuous fence, while another had a stone fence. There were people on the other side of the fence, but the boy had never seen one of them. He even didn’t know about their existence. He didn’t know that there was a neighbor who was afraid about going out and this man had sat in the house and hadn’t turned on the light for years. Next door there is a man who beats up his children and they don’t say anybody what is happening in their house. And nobody including the boy pays attention to their bruises, because they are poor and in rags and nobody likes them. The police sometimes come to their house, neighbors complain about the late noise, but the boy has never heard neither noise nor police sirens at night.
In another house lives family, there is a mother, father (like boy’s father), and also two children: brother and sister. And brother very often cries, and sister calms him, because the parents don’t like the one who fell in love with their son. But the boy had never heard his crying so always ran past, even when screams was heard in the house.
Boy running along the street, the sun bakes his face, and the wind kissing his cheek. When there is no sun, nothing warms the skin of the boy. Then face the wind blows strong and cool, or rain refreshes his hot face.
Sometimes, when the boy jumps on his street, someone can strike on him and, perhaps, apologize, or, maybe, is rude to the boy. The boy never listens. Once a smelling tablets tall girl strikes on him. It was a big scratchy sweater with long sleeves. The boy heard nothing that the girl had said, but, in general, no one has ever heard her, even when she screamed or cried. Therefore, she is now doing it in silence.
The car almost crashed into the boy one day. He hadn’t seen it when he ran across the road, it was very adult man and a very young wife in the car drove their son to the hospital because he was lying all the time and didn’t want to stop. The boy jumping on the street had never heard their son’s lie, however the boy didn’t even knew that he was been driven to the hospital.