Ravine (story)



According to the little window kochkovogo swamp slid wolves. Brown leader sniffed and cracked teeth. Prymolkshaya band pochuyala Dobycha.

Faint howl and quiet requiem woke prikurnuvshego echoing in the hollow of pine woodpecker.

From chapygi snort emerged with two hares and, blowing snow, We ran to the boundary strips.

According calico road gritting train; wood pigeons fluttered under the bridle, and horses, threw chewing gum, napryanuli ears.

Of net bushes eerily flashed lights and, doggo, extinguished.

- Wolves, - swung high in the shadow of the sublunary.

- Yes, - the noise is perched coughed voice. In a quiet noise was heard needles Morochno ushuk ice barrier…

Vanchok to lodge sang songs. He woos Philip and sister Limpiadu, tipsy, He boasted of his purse.

Sawing on the table in the cut-glass decanters hissed Sivukha. Philip, oporazhnivaya glass, prislonâl to the nose and bread, sniffing, drank for porosshie, how mshaninoy, cheekbone. On the porch a dog barked, and the slippery katniku runners creaked.

- the mare is not so much stealing wood, - I grabbed the gun hanging on the wall of Philip and, slamming the door, He pulled his hat elk.

The wind blew his cheeks misted.

Zabryakavshaya heck slid down the door with a squeal Iniesta knocked on the breakdown.

- Who goes? - gritted his hoarse voice.

- Ovsyannikov, - The short answer for carts.

- To-to!

By kruzheveyuschemu running up the stairs of a bearded old man,, waving his whip, He pointed to the road.

- In chapyzhnike, - muffled grunt he, catching gelding Sivogo.

Philip went on the road and fell on the ear Restless poroshni. In ear, how wool, I stick puhovity raid.

- Go, - he rattled his gun on the potholes and, do not shut the porch, I ran into the house.

Vanchok dozing over an empty glass. On the floor was dripping cucumber juice and blended with the vein of mahotki spilled milk.

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Sergey Yesenin
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