Читать книгу Quarantine. A book of stories and poems - Райса Каримбаева - Страница 10

We were six or seven years old when Sashka invited us to climb into the garden. The garden was large and surrounded by a large fence. All overgrown with wormwood and nettles. The trees were very tall. Especially birch trees. They propped up the sky itself and it seemed that they were floating in the clouds! The pears and peaches planted earlier by someone did not start, and remained dry, thin, bare twigs without leaves. Here, in the north, in the wilderness, where the winds blow with might and main and there are frequent showers, peaches do not grow. Our village was far from civilization and was surrounded by steppe. Wherever you look, the steppe is everywhere!. People with their families were gradually leaving the village, and their houses were emptied. So this garden is empty and overgrown. We got over the fence easily. First, the boys jumped, and then Gulka and I. The fence was high and at first it was a little scary, but I didn’t want to admit it and we climbed over it all the same, overcoming the fear. All the way Sashka kept repeating that he wanted to show us something. And now, intrigued, we found ourselves there in the garden. Large bushes and trees grew along the alley.. Suddenly, one bird sat down on the alley and slightly bent on its side, limping slightly, went, trying to take off, but did not take off. The broken wing prevented her from doing it. The boys shouted, hooted, trying to catch up with her, but she didn’t work. As soon as they got closer, she flew up, and then returned to the ground again and, as it were, limping ridiculously moved, leading somewhere to the side.…