Читать книгу Were not were - - Страница 32

The following story happened to the poet Fedyashkin. He stopped hearing voices. More precisely, one voice that whispered poems to him, and he unsuccessfully tried to write them down. But the life of a poet is not the work of a stenographer, from 9 to 17 every day. No, it’s not that simple. Climb, for example, Fedyashkin in the shower, and then the voice begins to dictate. He is from the shower to record, and he immediately falls silent. Back to the shower – dictates. In general, not life, but flour. This voice always sounded in the most inappropriate places and at the most inopportune times. And he, Fedyashkin, was torn between the desire to write down poetry and live normally for his own pleasure, like everyone else. Rest. Fedyashkin suffered terribly, but kept to the general line of being a poet. It’s a pity for him, you know, it was to miss everything that came to mind. Yes, and it came, to be honest, all some kind of nonsense. So, zilch, verbal commotion, and nothing more. No one published his poems, and he was embarrassed to read them publicly. He was terribly poor, but he was proud that he was a poetic genius. And here again – and silence. Inside. Dark and quiet. And the darkness is, you know, quite comfortable, and not such that the devil knows what hides: the horrors of the night in all their diversity. In general, the soul is dark and boring. Like an empty wardrobe. No poetry. Realizing his poetic sterility, Fedyashkin decided to return to his former profession. I started working as a proctologist again. In the clinic. He will come to work, look at the patient in one place and wait, maybe someone from there will begin to dictate: “I remember a wonderful moment, you appeared before me, like a fleeting vision, like a genius of pure beauty.” And in response, silence. She spends the whole day looking at patients with no result. No revelation. Out of grief, she will go to the urologist Parnokopytov. Together they will drink tea with gooseberries, they will discuss the nurse Zoya, and go home. Now he lives like everyone else, on one salary. And he can’t understand everything, is he happy or not? As it happens.