Nikolai Sladkov. Inhuman steps (№ 386667)

Early spring, night, dark forest, the swamp. In light cheese pine forest, the snow still in some places, and in the warm forests of fir trees on the hill are already dry. I walk in the dense spruce forest, in the dark barn. I stand silent, listening.
Around the black trunks of fir trees, followed the cold yellow sunset. And amazing silence, when you hear the heartbeats and their own breathing. Thrush on a spruce top visittibet lazily and loudly. Whistle, listen, and in response to his silence...