Читать книгу Wandering souls - Dmitry Nazarov - Страница 2

“I slowed down, unable to take my eyes off the red tandem – a girl and a motorcycle. It seems that all my life I dreamed of buying a similar two-wheeled monster, and here is such a chic copy.

It’s a pity, I earn just enough to maintain the only vehicle, there won’t be enough money for the second one. And there is nowhere to store it.

Unexpectedly, the girl abruptly raised her hand and screamed at me, but in the next second there was a rattle of metal and a roar. I turned around and saw how the trolley bus crashed into a pole with a huge advertising banner. And this concrete colossus inevitably and strangely, as if in slow motion, fell on me.

The people from the “zebra” rushed in all directions, me too. Yes, but not fate. The hairpin from the sharp turn was stuck in a crack in the asphalt softened by the heat. I jerked my leg convulsively, trying to escape from captivity, and watched in horror as the banner fell on me. Blow, crash, pain…

Before the white light faded, the sun briefly illuminated the red Kawasaki and the girl running towards me, ripping off her bright helmet and shaking her long black hair. Original! Someone before death sees his lived life, and I see a girl and a shining motorcycle …”