Book: Pathology

Don't even know what I moved, pulled, jerked this time, what kind of limb - whether the tail, fins, wings, but could not I saw the sun, to leave it again.
And it came to me.

Sometimes I question the virtuosity of the driver. When we, two charming men, I'm a foster child, traveling around the city, I doubt everything. I doubt that the flowerpots do not fall from balconies, and mutts do not throw at people, I doubt that ragged in the past month, the wire of a Telegraph pole not numb, and manholes do not fall, opening the boiling darkness. We cherish the most. The boy trusts me, am I entitled to fail?
In particular, I doubt the virtuosity of the bus driver. But to say that I doubt a little. Horror, similar to predvichnyj sensations, driving my unshaven cheeks, and my hands pressed against a three year old with chicken bones body, and my fingers touch his hands, earlobes, forehead, I am convinced that he is a warm, dear, my, here, there, on his knees, the only, unique, funny, strict, and he takes my hand unhappy I prevent it to look like moss.
We're going over the bridge...

Sitting on the waterfront, we eat ice cream and look at the water. It flows.
- When it leaks? - asks the boy.
"When it leaks, we will die" - I think, and not being afraid to scare him, say his thought out loud. He takes my words for the answer.
- And this soon? apparently, he is interested in how fast the water will flow away.
- No, not so soon, I never determine what I'm talking about - about death or about the movement of the river.

What bliss - breathe, think, no one bothers. Not to be boring. Who ever this nonsense came up - that is boring? Nonsense. There is nothing more boring than to die. And to live so fun...

As there is faith?.. Believe those who are able to doubt whose doubts insoluble. Not able to resolve their doubts begin to believe. Animals do not know how to doubt, and therefore believe they do not need. And people built their doubts about the absolute.

When you terribly and at the same time, it is clear that you passed, feel the body, stepping first on his stomach, then the liver, then shoulder, then somewhere else, runs barefoot angel and stops his gentle but cold from fear.

Where indifference ends, begins pathology.

- I sometimes think that life is a swing, she said to me this morning.
Because then off, then...
- I don't know... - said thoughtfully Dasha and laughed. - Maybe it's because I'm sick and breathtaking at the same time?

Probably, no the sun doesn't seem so distant, as still not lost hope to come up wrong.

Simple questions, simple answers, simple feelings ad nauseam. People have been walking on the ground, they are unlikely to try something new. Even the end of the world will not give anything new...

- How's the book? - I asked Dasha.
Thoughts shorter than sentences. Thoughts dressed up, sleeves hanging rpm involved as Pierrot.

Any conversation should be to place and mood. How to wear.

If I knew I'd have you, I would never ever to no one touched.

My childhood was unbearable, the sound of his own heart. If the night, in my sleep I'm tossing and turning, lay down so that they begin to hear pulsation, heartbeat, for example, laid her head on his shoulder, the awakening was instantaneous. Heartbeat it always seemed to me disgusting, treacherous and fleeing. Why this ridiculous red piece of meat drags me in full void and dark? I laid my head on the pillow and calmed down - no silence... no heart... all right...