Thistle. Rodion Rakhimov

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you’re a philosopher, – I smiled.

      – It is. I Diogenes of Sinope.

      I stuck out my thumb.

      “Thank you,” said the beetle-Diogenes.

      – Daniil Borodulin of Cordon-Tibia, – I introduced myself.

      – But this is not the Diogenes who lived in a barrel, and laughed over traditional forms of life, and declared himself “citizen of the world”? Lived like a dog and wanted to help humanity to return to mother nature? And tactfully sent the Alexander the great? – I gave a few meagre encyclopedic knowledge of it.

      That’s why flying now over W-brazier…

      – For how long?

      – Until the next reincarnation – the transmigration of the soul.

      – And this is hell? in disbelief I asked.

      No, he’s probably the dressing room. Or receiver-dispenser, call it what you like – rocked by the bass General.

      – Where is Heaven?

      – There’s Paradise on Earth, – said the beetle-Diogenes, laughing along with everyone.

      “Sorry,” I said in disbelief. I can’t agree with what you call Heaven, after what I saw there. The earth is more like a testing ground for mankind, nothing more, where each should go his distance, at the end of which may be issued card – a card with a note about fitness for further reincarnation.

      But then something clicked. And I went somewhere…

      … – Well, Borodulin, who is also Haduken, aka Bilkis, aka Abdul-Saeed, he’s… been a long list of names of those whom I once imagined. – We are to confess or to play the fool? In the eyes, my eyes!

      Now I guessed that was stuck and was in real trouble. And the office here was serious. And then ran it all the same with the wings – man serious whose name is taken in vain no one remembered and pronounced aloud, so as not to court trouble.

      I’m all stiffened up from fear.

      – What!? Let’s start from the beginning, with the creation of the Earth… your mother!?

      – Implying that I was Adam? – timidly I asked.

      – Ish, which is enough! No! Were you creeping bastard… damn it! – screaming Wings, gesticulating. Fingers, twisted by time, ill obeyed, and was obtained by the thieves – fan. I was sick. The stink and stench of nausea swelled up in her throat. Yes, the questions! My mate always cut ear. Well, when hammer toes, this is understandable. But it is specially selected three-storey wings mate, so that means I was worse. But I couldn’t argue with. He’s in charge! Nothing to be done?

      From his words I realized at once that he hated the Creator, of all mothers, and especially those who created anything: writers, artists, sculptors and composers.

      – I do not understand – I asked – why am I here in this company? What I have done, which was awarded this “honor”?

      – You fucking had to bite eve’s thigh, he continued, reading my thoughts. Or at least the apples in the garden. No… instead, you chase her… eyes built to get you… bitch creeping…

      – She’s from Adam’s rib? I for it is not the answer…

      – That’s it! Not the edge – not the ones I went to the descendants. As a result, I troublesome and Creator of the extra headache! And we have a Contract with him to all equally: light and darkness, good and evil, laughter and tears. Where some misalignment, then somewhere responds to a disaster of epic proportions…

      – I want a lawyer! I said.

      – What, have I seen golivudskih movies?

      Then he snapped his fingers. Whack!

      …And I’m already on the Birthday of the Earth. Can you imagine? First day! All brand-new: the sky is blue, the blue, the water is clear as a tear baby, mountain, washed by the rain, Shine like a cat’s eggs… wow! Who lead the, from, and rack up! I already picked up from the “Winged”. So all brand new! The grass is green – prezeleny, no, pardon me, bastard… have not had time to foul. Where not to crawl, all purity. Around berries and fruit, and there are no chemicals you. No mosquitoes, no black flies, some bees somewhere above buzz. And eve running around naked on the green grass, and Adam flirts, laughter poured some water from a stream Flirty leg on him splatters. Such a beautiful, an infection!

      Bite, you say? Than to bite? Me and poison do not. Because I got some fruits and berries are swallowed. Will go better on the stones under the Apple tree the cold.

      And only got the sun up, as something clicked… And I was brought before the “Winged”.

      …“Winged” looked at me, his feline eyes with a look like he knows everything about me.

      – Tell me… your mother! Why are you with her boyfriend by Fedka Karavaevym fence Semenov broke? Remember. But after a heavenly life do not go to his head.

      – Enough bleeding to creak brains. There’s no point – he snapped his fingers, the smell of ozone… and the frosty freshness.

      …And I’m already rolling with Mill mountain. When I was five or six years. And the boys skated career. Who and what: sled, skis, skates – all were in Vogue. And I stole my mom’s underwear galvanized trough with rounded bottom and is the envy of the guys flew with a whistle on loose snow to the pond!

      – Look, look! Someone’s cow ran away, ' cried one of the boys, showing wet from snow gloves to the side of the Icy roads. Where it is still dark, leaving our parents to put the Stakhanovite records, cutting down the forest. Were still far away the day when our village will be noisy young planting pine and spruce in human growth. And only the old lime trees, as silent witnesses of the incident, will be a long time to stand in those places where was the seven-year school, club, garage and shop.

      Will not become a forest – and will not work. And disperse the people who where in search of work and bread. Then sometimes go during summer vacation. And dip into a shallow river Timelike to cry in the green grass, reminiscing about the old days, a difficult but happy life.

      It turned out. The front of the car, loaded with wood, the whistles and hoots of the two porters in sheepskin coats, sitting on logs, wearily ran a deer. Apparently, drove him from the “Satan Barack”, where harvested forest for the alloy. In the summer the road was getting soft. And so Les tried to take it rafting on the Icy road that was cleared of snow and doused with water, turning the road and the curb in a solid roller and ice mountain. Through them not that beast, but man can’t get out. And animals caught in the ice chute, ran to the village.

      – And it is not a cow, and elk, – said one of the older guys

      – Come on, look!

      Us as the wind blew. When we, out of breath, ran to the store on the square already crowded with people. And even the farmers from the neighboring farm, constantly

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