Yuri Markeev. Spider Zhigulev (№ 354342)

Close your eyes right after the rubber bottom of the piston abut to tidy the tip of the syringe, slide the wave of a Paradise of warmth, to catch not difficult, but not caught... one-two-three-four-five, I'm going to find. Look at the world through narrowed eyes, and no dark clouds. Hiding, funny heavenly mischief. Turned white bellies and turned into sheep. Run-run like in the cartoon, plush jump from one cloud to another, flying in zero gravity, look up, see the sun, stare down the gilt domes of the churches. Domes. All the sweet heart. And how to live well in the world. How happy is the soul, when all around the domes.

Love the holiday of the Maccabees. Anyway, that old Testament martyrs. Main – calendar. The feast of mid-August, when Mac gets. Maccabee – Mak Wei! Villages with onion-domed cupolas of the Church, in homes in the icons of the dry heads with grains, bursting like musical instruments, rattles for trying. We are all infants in God. In the villages sochivo made from crushed grains, saying the Holy prayers. Oh, what grace!