Неделько Григорий Андреевич : другие произведения.

The Wish

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Школа кожевенного мастерства: сумки, ремни своими руками
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  • Аннотация:
    [Англ. версия "Желания".]


Gregory Week

(Grigory Nedelko)

The Wish

   My regular workday. Need to deliver a message. But why "message"? Hah just a piece of paper with a couple of words.
   And here I am, hovering.
   Meanwhile weather is strongly not for flights. "Wind velocity - one meter per second". What's wrong?!
   Agree with those who use some power to persuade nature. Speed up. Have to hurry! My kind is controlled by the timetable!
   People I meet don't disturb me. Rush by them and other living creatures: cats, dogs, birds... Skirt trees. Houses... Forward, forward! Outrunning roaring autos. Become a highway copy in the air. To fly!
   What if am I too late?
   To fly!..
   I'm so close to the direction. And then I see him. The addressee. With his feet dangling sits on the very edge - of a life, a razor, a house. And only five seconds - to dare. To be on time!
   These five seconds are for me too:
   Five...
   Faster! Faster!
   Four...
   Three...
   To be on time! Just to be on time! Yes, the timetable but am ought to forget about it! The thing is not the timetable and is something much more valuable!
   Two...
   One...
   Soar up... Dash like hell!.. To be in time!!!
   Slip quickly to the addressee sight and turning around shoot away.
   The message is where it's meant to be: a list stuck to a face. Quivering hands take it down. The addressee reads the written. Only two short words:
   "DO NOT"
   The world has some kind of a stop. And after this man's eyes reflect very different, deep and unexpected feelings. Those ones which are much stronger than a tiredness, a pain and a hate. The addressee put down the "letter" in a breast pocket gently and goes to a ladder that follows downwards...
   Yes, I've succeeded with it! And can take a short rest...
   What will be next?.. Well the destiny will answer this question: it's her responsibility. My duty however - is to hover... to fly skirting houses... to flow with airplanes and to outrun them... run, run, run straight forward, under the sky and on it, to arrive within the time-limit... to find myself in a place where somebody's waiting for me...
   But I don't even have a small piece of time because there are too many persons awaiting. Right now. Pity, I've got to say "Sorry about it" and need to go...
   I fly up. Set course like a wind ship and hurry to meet the others...
   And, you know, I have the wish:
   "BE HAPPY"
  

(2010, November)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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