He looked as fire gains in strength. Fire was beautiful. He has given a hand and has put it on red-orange, moire, decaying,
sparkling... In this pain was also any strange pleasure. In it there was a justice, in this pain. But here the smoke - disturbed. It
was too much.
Fire was here in the right and on the place, and the smoke - is not present. The smoke was now inappropriate.
It has risen, left on kitchen, took a cold teapot from a plate and, without hurrying up, with pleasure (for the first time for a day
it did something), has poured out it on running sparks. It was in accuracy the same as late at night, in wood when before
laying down to sleep, slowly and diligently fill in kostrishche. Hissing. A white smoke. A smell of burning. It had to type and
pour out one more full teapot. And one more. And still. Already and the kitchen was full of a smoke, and it was quite possible
to expect that now the neigbour will run, and it will be necessary to it to explain something, but the neigbour has disappeared
at itself and sat there, having hidden, so it easy typed a teapot behind a teapot and watered a blanket while from beautiful
fire does not remain anything, except damp ashes and a stench, and a smoke has extended in two opened window leaves.
The hand was ill. This pain still to strangeness was not unpleasant and obviously found out something the general with
justice and with true. Strictly speaking, they, in effect, near relations - true, a pain and justice... He has not wanted to think of
it. Yes he also would not manage. It was capable now only of the most simple actions. It has put a teapot on a plate. This
teapot of Lariska has bought in the autumn when old once all has boiled away and has come unsoldered. There is
something deeply dishonest that things of people live much longer people. Before it did not suppose. Earlier together with the
person burnt all it kindly, - ostensibly that it served it on that coast, but on the business - for the sake of natural justice...
He too did not begin to think of it.
It has gone to a bathroom and has washed. It wiped the person a towel and looked at itself in a mirror. The person was
ordinary. It was in accuracy same, as always. It was meanly. But anything with this meanness it was impossible to make.
Meanness here again won. He after all and has not managed to begin to cry.
It left a bathroom when have suddenly called at a door. The call was the stranger, the stranger devils bore someone, it has
entered into platform has removed a hook and has opened a door. The stranger has quickly squeezed and became to it
closely as if wished it to embrace. Or to bite.
- It you - Krasnogorsky? - It is quiet, but he has very energetically asked directly to Stanislav in the person. From a mouth at it
badly smelt.
- I am Krasnogorov.
- Yes... Excuse... Krasnogorov... I call all the day long to you today.