Читать книгу Oh my love, my death. Selected short stories - - Страница 9

– You, Zhyke, understand us correctly, – said my colleague named Boru. «For you in other world heaven is garantied. You don’t drink, you don’t cheat. But for us, there is nothing to look forward except Hell, so we want to at least have a little fun in this life. It’s clear that we will go straight to the frying pan. Come on, Zhuke, say a toast. I’m getting ready to hit the road tomorrow. I need to hold a deserving ash, wake for my late mother, who lived to be a hundred years old. Last year, during the funeral, I slaughtered three horses and one cow. And this year on ash I’ll slaughter one horse. I’ll bring you the remains.

– You didn’t bring us anything from three horses and one cow. Now, you certainly won’t bring us anything from one horse. So, you’d better shut up, – Zhuke objected.

– What a bastard you are! – Boru howled.

– Don’t speak bad words, you and I are already aksakals. Everyone is looking at us. If we continue to behave decently, we might end up in the place on the frying pan where it is not very hot.

– There is no such place on the frying pan.

– You speak as if you have already been there.

– Judging by the known descriptions of hell and my presentiment that is true, – Boru sighed heavily.