With Bykovym it is safe, - she has told simply. - well, and how your affairs, Grigory? Somehow strange, you - and suddenly do
I will work at institute, - Dauge has told.
To work... - it has shaken a head. - to work... Look, on what you are similar.
Dauge has crookedly grinned.
But you have not changed at all. Married? - For what reason? - she has objected.
I here too so a bachelor also remained.
Why? - You do not suit in husbands.
Dauge has awkwardly laughed.
It is not necessary to attack me, - he has told. - I simply wished to talk.
Earlier you were able to speak interestingly.
And what, you it is already boring? We speak only five minutes.
No, why? - She has politely told. - I with pleasure listen to you.
They have become silent. Dauge disturbed a straw in a glass.
And I see off Volodju always, - she has told. - I have friends in management, and I always know, when you depart. And
whence. And I always see off him. - it has taken out a straw from the glass, has crumpled it and has thrown in an ashtray. - it
the unique person close to me. - it has given a toast and has drunk some drinks. - the mad world. Foolish time, - she has told
has got tired. - people have absolutely forgot to live. Work, work, work... All meaning of the life in work. For all time something
search. All time something build.
What for? I understand, it was necessary earlier when all did not suffice. When there was this economic struggle. When still
it was necessary to prove that we can is not worse, and it is better, than they. Have proved. And struggle remained. Any
deaf person, implicit. I do not understand it. Perhaps, you understand, Grigory? - I understand, - Dauge has told.
You always understood. You always understood the world in which you live. And you, both Volod'ka, and this boring Bulls.
Sometimes I think that all of you simply limited people. You are simply incapable to ask a question - "what for?" - She has
again drunk from a glass. - you know, recently I have got acquainted with one school teacher. It learns children to terrible
things. It learns them what to work much more interestingly, than to have a good time. And they trust it. You understand?
After all same it is terrible! I spoke with its pupils. It seemed to me that they despise me. For what? What I wish to live the
unique life how would be desirable me? Dauge has well imagined Maria Jurkovskoj's this conversation with fifteen-year
fellows and little girls from regional school. Where to you to understand, he has thought. Where to you to understand, how
weeks, months with despair you fight in a blank wall, you use up paper mountains, ishazhivaesh tens kilometres on an office
or on desert, and it seems that the decision is not present and that you a brainless blind worm, and you any more do not
believe that so were repeatedly, and then there comes this wonderful instant when you open, at last, a gate to a wall, and
one more blank wall behind, and you again god, and the Universe again at you on a palm. However, it does not need to be
understood. It needs to be felt. He has told: - They too wish to live a life how they would like. But you would like a