Пишу, в основном, для детей: киносценарии, романы, сказки, пьесы. По специальности - сценарист. Победитель и лауреат многих литературных конкурсов (Коронация слова, Межнациональный конкурс им.О.Гончара, Корнейчуковская премия и др.) Увлекаюсь поэзией, вышивкой, игрой на ф-но, садоводничеством и прочими дамскими искусствами.
I write mostly for children: screenplays, novels, fairy tales, theatre plays. My basic specialty is a screenwriter. I'm a winner and a participant of many literary contests (Coronation of the word, Oles Honchar International contest, Korney Chukovsky award etc.) I'm fond of poetry, embroidery, gardening, playing the piano and other feminine arts.
“Are you a suicider?”
Kitty raised the revolver and aimed at her shadow. It was writhing in hysterics trying to tear itself away from the wall, miaowing silently and pitifully.
That spring was really odd. That was felt in everything!
“What are you doing? What for?! She is afraid!” The stranger cried watching the condemned shadow.
Kitty chuckled in her shoulder.
“Really? But I’m not.”
The crimson lantern illuminated the wide wall with a bright steady light.
The involuntary witness closed his ears with his hands.
“She’s screaming! Put down the revolver!”
“Do you hear her? I don’t.”
The revolver gave a click.
“Don’t shoot!!!” The compassionate fellow yelled suddenly and rushed toward the wall to shield the frightened shadow with his body. And met a conceited bullet which was suddenly made beautiful by the crimson lantern…
Sleep… Slap… – those were two sounds audible that night. The rest of the world bore the name of silence – a dozy-life hidden in the darkness… Everything was asleep. The windows of the buildings were dead. Only the lanterns shimmered as usual, colouring the mist with yellow strokes.
The town in the night had a green mood of spring.
Kitty cheerfully walked along the path giving herself up to sensations. Enchained, they had been wandering in her till the sunset and then broke gradually and began to come out on the surface. Like a bouquet of artistically selected fragrances, Kitty inhaled one sensation after another, listened to the drowsy “sleep-slap” and occasionally closed her eyes because she knew her way blindfold… She walked there every night.
The wanderer reached the pavement and the drowsy “sleep-slap” was enriched with the clip-clopping of her heels.
A heady sensation of the last spring.
A heavy, bungled pocket of the terra-cotta overcoat.
Kitty’s shadow hurried along, its head beaten by the road kerbs, its body pricked by the building corners, broken by the flowerbeds. The restless shadow must have been suffering from pain.
“What an odd spring we are having this year!” its careless Kitty was brooding, “When looking at the sky, you can’t help thinking – someone has scattered the stars for good reason, absolutely for good reason…”
She was feeding the urban night on the scents of her perfume and outrunning cars with a naughty cattish glance.
Kitty inhaled just another sensation, gently stepping on the pavement as though falling into soapsuds. That night was breathing only for her. Only the pussy cat was catching that hardly audible, careful, incomprehensible “sleep-slap”. Nobody disturbed her. No cars, lanterns, by-passers. They just didn’t exist in the sugary thoughts of the dreamer.
“Going far?” asked Someone in a Hat, as if having fallen out of a dead window and now tracing Kitty.
Keeping the pace, she answered:
The spring wind blew wildly, causing the lantern light to part with the floating mist. Flaps of the terra-cotta overcoat flopped behind Kitty’s back. Her thin black tail stirred anxiously.
Someone was following her steadily. He seemed to be determined to carry on. And that changed everything…
The hurrying Kitty, almost on edge of escaping, hastily tucked her hand into the right pocket, touching a revolver with her clingy fingers.
“Today I dreamed a leaden town all highlighted in crimson…Crimson on lead – it’s so beautiful,” Someone murmured behind.
The cat’s tail stirred more anxiously. The sensation of languor and solitude was abandoning her...
“Where on earth do all these strangers come from?” the wanderer thought irritatingly and dashed reluctantly over the shoulder:
“I also dreamed lead and crimson light. But dreams don’t make us closer. Leave me alone!”
She walked faster, her heels clip-clapping, trying to catch up with her own shadow. But Someone in a Hat was following her steadily.
“And what if I say that I’ve found you by smell”, he proceeded, trying to catch the cat’s tail.
“And what if I say that I don’t care!”
Kitty turned into a pass.
There she hurriedly shrugged off her overcoat, leaving the revolver in her hands and trying to dissolve in the night.
Sleep… Slap… – it was how that night was breathing.
The early spring was commonly fresh, too tender, a little sad and somewhat unsure of itself.
The pussy cat’s whiskers began to stir in apprehension of an expected disaster. Black and naked, Kitty was making her way along the dark pass... The revolver was cold and too heavy. The adventuress was shifting the weapon from one hand to the other. At last she was left alone!
“I told you I’ve found you by the scent,” the voice came out behind her.
Kitty’s bare shoulders shivered.
“Why are you following me?”
“Because I’m sensing death… Are you going to kill? Are you a killer? I’ll come with you! I love to read last questions in people’s eyes. You can’t even imagine what people think before they die!”
“Ha-ha-ha!” Kitty burst out laughing and her laugh echoed reverberating.
The bewildered stranger stopped for a moment, then resumed his pace catching up with her.
“Well, what do they think about?” Kitty asked as though reluctantly, still laughing.
The stranger’s gaze was sweeping over her naked back, buttocks, long legs… The springtime night was very carefully streamlining her skin.
“About inanity. About their life wasted to no purpose, with no actual loving. ”
The meager beauty stopped abruptly, looked over her left shoulder, glared cattishly.
“I know what people think about before they die”, she said somewhat cheerfully. “I die every day. Yet the only question worrying me most is what’s the name of a fool who once imagined that cats have nine lives! What do you think I need this knowledge for?!”
Kitty stopped and the crimson light of the lantern cast her shadow onto a wide wall. The shadow immediately started trembling, closed its eyes with its hands and vailed its tail. The yellow and green feline eyes grew seemingly confident and decisive.
The stranger stopped in mute amazement.
“Are you a suicider?”