(прим.автора. "Объектив" был напечатан ранее : 01.09.11. Вы можете найти русскую версию в архиве блога. См. "2011 - Сентябрь - "Объектив")
The lense
Push. One more time. A plane Frankfurt-am-Mein - Kiev finaly landed.
She has been coming back from Germany, not because her holidays ended a long time ago and holiday's love affairs collapsed and it was getting colder on the streets. She has been just coming back. Not forever.
There are queue at the airport. Crazy people. Homelesses people. Lost things. Too many sounds, voices, and endless shouts "taxi!".
She hasn't missed him, no, for sure she hasn't. She just wanted to jump into the car and go away. Far away from here. Far away from stink in air.
She pressed gas in her car, sitting in her black leather cabin. Streets. Same old streets. Endless hills of rubbish and people, who don't value their lifes. From radio you can hesr just " a car accident, which happened on.." or " awful accident, which happened on " , " as a result, four people died...". They are in a hurry for somewhere.
She turned on her, hardly alived, disk with ukrainian music. It didn't help her. Who is talking ukrainian now? Even for her - it is easier to think in deutch.
In her flat everything is in dust, even her cactus was going to die. How long she hasn't been here? Three monthes?
White sheets, black lingerie, the smell of parfume. Everything, as she left.
She turned on her camera. Click. One more click...
She is photographing him. He is telling something to her, he i very funny, she is laughing and making photos. He talks very funny in deutch and he has a small stomach, he didn't like beer and it looks like he is frenchman, because of that, she talked at first in french to him.
No, now it doesn't matter, it is just on photos now, and she is continue making photos. That time he was telling her about the weather and about indifference of german to the top ecology azon sphere of the Earth. But it doesn't matter, there was wine with thme, nice music and camera.Here they have been dancing near the building of an Old Opera. It seems like then Abel played. Was it november? One more click...
Barefoot on the cold floor. On the floor there is a mattress with bed linen. A bookcase where honorary place take Mann,
Remarque, Freud. A black torchere and a mirror. On the windowsill - cactus. Outside the window an alcoholic in the garbage can. On the floor a bottle with whiskey.
Everything, she has to do was to give a keys to new owners and to buy back ticket. While she closed her eyes she imagined, that the day after her plane will land in Frankfurt-am-Mein, in few miles from him.
When she put her hand on her stomach she felt that Sonya pushed her, by her leg.
Click...
The lense
Push. One more time. A plane Frankfurt-am-Mein - Kiev finaly landed.
She has been coming back from Germany, not because her holidays ended a long time ago and holiday's love affairs collapsed and it was getting colder on the streets. She has been just coming back. Not forever.
There are queue at the airport. Crazy people. Homelesses people. Lost things. Too many sounds, voices, and endless shouts "taxi!".
She hasn't missed him, no, for sure she hasn't. She just wanted to jump into the car and go away. Far away from here. Far away from stink in air.
She pressed gas in her car, sitting in her black leather cabin. Streets. Same old streets. Endless hills of rubbish and people, who don't value their lifes. From radio you can hesr just " a car accident, which happened on.." or " awful accident, which happened on " , " as a result, four people died...". They are in a hurry for somewhere.
She turned on her, hardly alived, disk with ukrainian music. It didn't help her. Who is talking ukrainian now? Even for her - it is easier to think in deutch.
In her flat everything is in dust, even her cactus was going to die. How long she hasn't been here? Three monthes?
White sheets, black lingerie, the smell of parfume. Everything, as she left.
She turned on her camera. Click. One more click...
She is photographing him. He is telling something to her, he i very funny, she is laughing and making photos. He talks very funny in deutch and he has a small stomach, he didn't like beer and it looks like he is frenchman, because of that, she talked at first in french to him.
No, now it doesn't matter, it is just on photos now, and she is continue making photos. That time he was telling her about the weather and about indifference of german to the top ecology azon sphere of the Earth. But it doesn't matter, there was wine with thme, nice music and camera.Here they have been dancing near the building of an Old Opera. It seems like then Abel played. Was it november? One more click...
Barefoot on the cold floor. On the floor there is a mattress with bed linen. A bookcase where honorary place take Mann,
Remarque, Freud. A black torchere and a mirror. On the windowsill - cactus. Outside the window an alcoholic in the garbage can. On the floor a bottle with whiskey.
Everything, she has to do was to give a keys to new owners and to buy back ticket. While she closed her eyes she imagined, that the day after her plane will land in Frankfurt-am-Mein, in few miles from him.
When she put her hand on her stomach she felt that Sonya pushed her, by her leg.
Click...
Комментариев нет:
Отправить комментарий