There’s the cold November rain. In the middle area f Russia, the winter comes in not immediately. It torments by waiting and pours the gray rain on heads of round-shoulders passers.
The rain knocked in the window of a room where two persons talked.
He has poured a cup of tea and gave it her. She has smiled at him and tousles his hair tenderly.
She has broken a silence.
“I remember that old courtyard in the small town on my motherland clearly. I and my family lived then approximately twenty years ago. I remember old trees which grew in this courtyard and ropes for drying the clothes strained between trees. I remember when I was a child I was happy when played in that courtyard. My father was sent to that town for building the factory. He was the builder.”
She has sighed and continued “That town located on the north part of Russia. In that courtyard only one boy didn’t play with children. He didn’t be out his flat. He lived on the first floor. He was sick and seemed sad all time. Near his window the high tree was. Once I climbed that tree and looked him distinctly.
He painted the pictures. Then I often climbed the tree and have seen at his pictures for a long time. Once he noticed me and asked to visit him. When I have visited him he has showed me the picture which I have never seen before. There was a beach, an amazing, beautiful beach. The yellow sand, the powerful rocks and a sea – blur, green near the coast and dark blur nearly to the horizon. In the picture was the summer day and the nice southern plaints grew on the beach.
I couldn’t tear away glance and I sew and sew at the picture. “It’s a stunning thing. Where have you seen this beach?” – finally I asked. “I sew it in my dream. I have never been on the sea beach.”
Next summer a boy died. After that his mother has left the town. Then my family left the town too. Many years later I sew that picture in my dreams.
Last year I had a summer vacation. My friends offered me to Greece in place named Halkidiki to the peninsula Kassandra. The trip has taken many hours, finally we arrived to a hotel. I was tied very much so I have decided to go swimming. I have gone on the road conducting to sea. I have left on a beach and I recognize it! It was a beach from boy’s picture – the yellow sand, the powerful rocks and a sea – blur, green near the cost and dark blur nearly to the horizon, the nice southern plaints. I have begun to cry. I have recollected the sick boy and his sad smile. “Can I help you” I listened. I looked up and I sew you, my dear…”
The rain knocked in the window of a room where two persons were silent.
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