Many years ago, there was a king who passionately loved outfits and new clothes and spent all his money on them. And he went out to his soldiers, and went to the theater or into the forest for a walk, only to show off in a new outfit. For every hour of the day he had a special camisole, and as they say about kings: “The king is in council”, so they always said about him: “The king is in the dressing room”

The city in which the king lived was large and lively, so that foreign guests came every day, and one day two deceivers stopped by. They said they were weavers and declared that they could weave a wonderful fabric, better than which one could not even imagine. And the coloring is unusually good, and the pattern, and besides, the dress sewn from this fabric has the wonderful property of becoming invisible to any person who is sitting in the wrong place or impassibly stupid.

“That would be a wonderful dress! thought the king. - Put on such a dress - and you can immediately see who is sitting in the wrong place in your kingdom. And I can tell the smart from the stupid! Yes, let me quickly weave such a fabric!”

And he gave the deceivers a lot of money to get to work immediately.

The deceivers set up two looms and, well, to show that they are working, but they themselves have absolutely nothing on the looms. Without ceremony, they demanded the finest silk and the purest gold, pocketed everything and continued to work on empty machines until late at night.

“It would be nice to see how things are progressing!” - thought the king, but such was the vagueness in his soul when he remembered that a fool or one who is not fit for his place will not see the fabric. And although he believed that he had nothing to fear for himself, he nevertheless decided that it was better to send someone else to reconnoiter.

After all, the whole city already knew what a wonderful property the fabric has, and everyone was eager to see how useless or stupid his neighbor was.

“I will send my honest old minister to the weavers! the king decided. “Someone, if not him, should consider the fabric, because he is smart and, like no one else, fits his place better! ..”

And so the gallant old minister went to the hall where two deceivers were working on empty machines.

"Lord have mercy! thought the old minister, wide-eyed. “I don’t see anything!”

But he didn't say it out loud.

And the deceivers invite him to come closer, ask if the colors are cheerful, if the patterns are good, and at the same time everyone points to empty machines, and the poor minister, no matter how goggled, still saw nothing, because there was nothing to see.

“Oh my God! he thought. - Am I stupid? That's what I never thought! Just so no one knows! Am I not fit for my position? No, I can’t admit that I don’t see the fabric!”

- Why don't you say anything? one of the weavers asked.

- Oh, that's very cute! Absolutely charming! said the old minister, looking through his spectacles. - What a pattern, what colors! .. Yes, yes, I will report to the king that I like it very much!

- Well, we are glad! - said the deceivers and well, to name the colors, to explain the rare patterns. The old minister listened and memorized in order to report everything to the king exactly.

And so he did.

And the deceivers demanded more money, silk and gold: they say they need all this for weaving. But they pocketed all this again, not a single thread went into the fabric, and they themselves continued to weave on empty looms as before.

Soon the king sent another honest official to see how things were going, whether the fabric would soon be ready. And with this, the same thing happened as with the minister, he kept looking, looking, but he didn’t see anything, because there was nothing but empty machines.

- Well, how? Is the fabric really good? - the deceivers ask and, well, explain, show a magnificent pattern, which did not even exist.

“I'm not stupid! thought the official. “So, then, I don’t go to the good place where I sit?” Weird! In any case, you can’t even show it!”

And he began to praise the fabric, which he had not seen, and expressed his admiration for the beautiful colors and wonderful patterns.

"Oh yes, it's absolutely adorable!" he reported to the king.

And now the whole city started talking about what a magnificent fabric the weavers wove. And then the king himself decided to look at her, while she had not yet been removed from the loom.

With a whole crowd of chosen courtiers, among them both honest old officials who had already been there, he entered the two cunning deceivers. They weaved with all their might, although there was not a thread on the looms.

- Fabulous! Is not it? said both gallant officials. - Deign to see, your Majesty, what a pattern, what colors!

And they pointed to an empty machine, because they thought that others would certainly see the fabric.

"What's happened? thought the king. - I do not see anything! It's horrible. Am I stupid? Am I not fit to be king? You can't imagine worse!"

- Oh, it's very beautiful! said the king. I give you my highest approval!

He nodded contentedly and examined the empty machines, not wanting to admit that he did not see anything. And all his retinue looked, looked, and also saw no more than all the others, but they said after the king: “Oh, it is very beautiful!” - and advised him to sew an outfit from a new magnificent fabric for the upcoming solemn procession. "It's great! Wonderful! Excellent!" - just heard from all sides. Everyone was absolutely delighted. The king granted each of the deceivers a knight's cross in his buttonhole and honored them with the title of court weavers.

All night on the eve of the celebration, the deceivers sat sewing and burned more than sixteen candles. It was obvious to everyone that they were in a great hurry to get the king's new outfit done on time. They pretended to take the fabric off the looms, they cut the air with large scissors, they sewed with a needle without thread, and finally said:

- Well, here's the outfit and ready!

The king entered them with his most distinguished courtiers, and the deceivers, raising their hands high, as if holding something in them, said:

- Here are the pants! Here is the jacket! Here is the mantle! - Etc. - Everything is light as a cobweb! It's time to think that there is nothing on the body, but this is the whole trick!

- Yes Yes! - said the courtiers, although they saw absolutely nothing, because there was nothing to see.

“And now, your royal majesty, deign to take off your dress!” the deceivers said. “We will dress you in new clothes, right here, in front of a large mirror!”

The king undressed, and the deceivers pretended to put on him one piece of new clothes after another. They grabbed him around the waist and pretended to be attaching something - it was a train, and the king twirled and spun in front of the mirror.

- Oh, how it goes! Oh, how wonderfully sits! the courtiers spoke out loud. What a pattern, what colors! No words, gorgeous dress!

“The canopy is waiting, your majesty!” - reported the chief of ceremonies. “He will be carried over you in a procession.

“I am ready,” said the king. - Does the dress fit well?

And he turned once more in front of the mirror - after all, it was necessary to show that he was carefully examining the outfit.

The chamberlains, who were supposed to carry the train, rummaged around with their hands on the floor and pretended to lift the train, and then went with their arms outstretched - they did not dare to show that there was nothing to carry.

So the king went at the head of the procession under a luxurious canopy, and all the people in the street and in the windows said:

“Ah, the new attire of the king is incomparable! And what a beautiful train. And the camisole looks wonderful!

Not a single person wanted to admit that he did not see anything, because this would mean that he was either stupid or sitting in the wrong place. None of the king's dress has ever aroused such delight.

“But the king is naked!” said a child suddenly.

“Oh my God, listen to what an innocent baby says! his father said.

And everyone began to whisper to each other the words of the child.

- He's naked! Here the child says that he is naked!

- He's naked! shouted all the people at last. And the king felt uneasy: it seemed to him that the people were right, but he thought to himself: “We must endure the procession to the end.”

And he spoke even more majestic, and the chamberlains followed him, carrying a train that was not there.

Many years ago there was a king in the world: he loved to dress up so much that he spent all his money on new dresses, and parades, theaters, country walks occupied him only because he could appear there in a new outfit. For every hour of the day he had a special dress, and as they say about other kings: "The king is in council", so they said about him: "The king is in the dressing room."

In the capital of this king, life was very cheerful: almost every day foreign guests came, and once two deceivers appeared. They pretended to be weavers and said that they could weave such a wonderful fabric, better than which nothing could be imagined: in addition to an unusually beautiful pattern and color, it also has an amazing property - it becomes invisible to any person who sits in the wrong place or is impassable. stupid.

“Yes, this will be a dress! thought the king. - Then after all, I can find out which of my dignitaries is out of place and who is smart and who is stupid. Let them quickly weave such a fabric for me.

And he gave the deceivers a big deposit, so that they immediately set to work.

They set up two looms and pretended to work hard, while they themselves had absolutely nothing on the looms. Not at all embarrassed, they demanded the finest silk and the purest gold for work, they put all this in their pocket and sat at empty machines from morning until late at night. “I would like to see how things are going!” thought the king. But then he remembered the wonderful property of the fabric, and he felt somehow uneasy. Of course, he has nothing to fear for himself, but ... still, it would be better for someone else to go first! In the meantime, the rumor about the outlandish fabric spread throughout the city, and everyone was burning with the desire to quickly convince himself of the stupidity or unsuitability of his neighbor.

“I’ll send my honest old minister to them,” thought the king. - He will examine the fabric: he is smart and how

no one else fits his position."

And so the old minister entered the hall, where deceivers were sitting at empty benches.

"Lord have mercy! thought the minister, wide-eyed. “But I don’t see anything!” Only he didn't say it out loud. The deceivers respectfully asked him to come closer and tell him how much he liked the pattern and colors. At the same time, they pointed to the empty machines, and no matter how the poor minister stared, he still did not see anything. And there was nothing to see. “Oh you, Lord! he thought. - Am I stupid? That's something I never thought! God forbid, someone will find out! .. Or maybe I'm not fit for my position? .. No, no, you can’t admit that I don’t see the fabric!

Why don't you tell us anything? one of the weavers asked.

Oh, this is sweet! answered the old minister, looking through his spectacles. - What a pattern, what colors! Yes, yes, I will report to the king that I am extremely pleased with your work!

Happy to try! - said the deceivers and began to paint, what an extraordinary pattern and combination of colors. The Minister listened very attentively, so that later he could repeat all this to the King. And so he did.

Now the deceivers began to demand even more money, silk and gold; but they only stuffed their pockets, and not a single thread went to work. As before, they sat at empty looms and pretended to weave.

Then the king sent another worthy dignitary to the weavers. He had to see how things were going and see if the work would be finished soon. It was the same with him as with the first. He was already looking, looking with all his eyes, but still he saw nothing but empty machines.

Well, how do you like it? - the deceivers asked him, showing the fabric and praising the patterns, which did not even exist.

"I'm not stupid," thought the dignitary. "So I'm in the wrong place?" Here's one for you! However, you can’t even show it!”

And he began to praise the fabric, which he had not seen, admiring the beautiful pattern and combination of colors.

Premium, premium! he reported to the king. Soon the whole town was talking about the delightful fabric. Finally, the king himself wished to admire the curiosity while it was not yet removed from the machine.

With a whole retinue of selected courtiers and dignitaries, among whom were the first two, who had already seen the fabric, the king appeared to the cunning deceivers, weaving tirelessly on empty looms.

Magnifique! Is it true? - exclaimed the dignitaries who had already been here. - Wouldn't you like to admire? What a drawing ... and paints!

And they poked their fingers into space, imagining that everyone else was seeing the fabric.

“What nonsense! thought the king. - I do not see anything! After all, it's terrible! I'm stupid, right? Or am I not fit to be king? That would be the worst!”

Oh yes, very, very nice! said the king at last. - Deserves my approval!

And he nodded his head with a satisfied look, examining the empty machines - he did not want to admit that he did not see anything. The retinue of the king looked with all eyes, but saw no more than he himself; and yet they all said with one voice: “Very, very nice!” - and advised the king to make himself an outfit from this fabric for the upcoming solemn ceremony.

Magnifique! Excellent! - only heard from all sides; everyone was so excited! The king awarded the deceivers with a knight's cross in his buttonhole and granted them the title of court weavers.

All night on the eve of the celebration, the deceivers sat at work and burned more than sixteen candles - it was clear to everyone that they were trying to finish the new dress of the king by the deadline.

They pretended to take the fabric off the looms, cut it with large scissors, and then sew it with needles without thread.

Finally they announced:

The king himself, accompanied by his retinue, came to them to dress. The deceivers raised their hands, as if they were holding something, saying: - Here are the pantaloons, here is the camisole, here is the caftan! Great outfit! Light as a cobweb, and you won't feel it on your body! But that's the beauty of it!

Yes Yes! - said the courtiers, although they did not see anything - but after all, there was nothing to see.

And now, your royal majesty, deign to undress and stand right here in front of a large mirror! the deceivers said to the king. - We will dress you!

The king stripped naked, and the deceivers began to dress him up: they pretended to put on him one piece of clothing after another and finally attach something to his shoulders and waist - it was they who put the royal mantle on him! And the king turned in front of the mirror in all directions.

God, how it goes! What a wonderful sitting! - whispered in the retinue. What a pattern, what colors! Luxurious dress!

The canopy is waiting! - reported the chief of ceremonies. - I'm ready! - said the king. - Does the dress fit well?

And he turned once more in front of the mirror: after all, it was necessary to show that he was carefully examining his outfit.

The chamberlains, who were supposed to carry the train of the royal mantle, pretended to lift something from the floor, and followed the king, stretching out their hands in front of them - they did not dare to pretend that they did not see anything.

And so the king walked through the streets under a luxurious canopy, and the people who crowded to look at him said:

Oh, how beautiful is this new dress of the king! What a wonderful sitting! What a luxurious robe!

Not a single person said that he did not see anything, no one wanted to admit that he was stupid or sitting in the wrong place. None of the king's dress has ever aroused such enthusiasm.

Why, the king is naked! shouted a little boy suddenly.

Listen to what an innocent baby says! - said his father, and everyone began to whisper to each other the words of the child.

Why, he's completely naked! Here the boy says that he is naked! shouted all the people at last.

And the king was terrified: it seemed to him that they were right, but it was necessary to bring the ceremony to the end!

And he acted even more majestic under his canopy, and the chamberlains followed him, supporting the mantle, which was not there.

Many years ago there was a king in the world; he loved to dress up so much that he spent all his money on new dresses, and parades, theaters, country walks occupied him only because he could then show himself in a new outfit. He had a special outfit for every hour of the day, and as other kings are often said: "The king is in council", so they said about him: "The king is in the dressing room."

In the capital of this king life was very cheerful; foreign guests came almost every day, and one day two deceivers appeared. They pretended to be weavers and said that they could make such a wonderful fabric, better than which nothing could be imagined: in addition to an unusually beautiful pattern and color, it also has an amazing property - to become invisible to any person who is out of place or impassibly stupid .

“Yes, this will be a dress! thought the king. “Then I can find out which of my dignitaries is out of place and who is smart and who is stupid. Let them make such a fabric for me as soon as possible.

And he gave the deceivers a big deposit, so that they immediately set to work.

They set up two looms and pretended to work hard, while they themselves had absolutely nothing on the looms. Not at all embarrassed, they demanded the finest silk and the purest gold for work, they hid all this in their pockets and sat at empty machines from morning until late at night.

“I would like to see how things are going!” thought the king. But then he remembered the wonderful property of the fabric, and he felt somehow uneasy. Of course, he has nothing to fear for himself, but… still, it would be better for someone else to go first! In the meantime, the rumor about the outlandish fabric spread throughout the city, and everyone was burning with the desire to quickly convince himself of the stupidity or unsuitability of his neighbor.

“I’ll send my honest old minister to them,” thought the king. “He’ll look at the fabric: he’s smart and takes his place with honor.”

Hans Christian Andersen

The king's new dress

Long, long time ago there lived a king in the world; he loved dressing up so much that he spent all his money on clothes, and reviews of the troops, theaters, country walks occupied him only because he could then show himself in a new outfit. He had a special outfit for every hour of the day, and as they often say about other kings: "The king is in council" - so they said about him: "The king is in the dressing room."

Life in the king's capital was very merry, foreign guests came almost every day, and now two deceivers appeared. They pretended to be weavers who know how to make such a wonderful fabric, better than which nothing can be imagined: in addition to an unusually beautiful pattern and colors, it was also distinguished by the wonderful property of becoming invisible to any person who was “out of place” or impenetrably stupid.

“Yes, this is how the dress will be! thought the king. - Then after all, I can find out which of my dignitaries is out of place and who is smart, who is stupid. Let them make such a fabric for me as soon as possible.

And he gave the deceivers a big deposit, so that they immediately set to work.

They set up two looms and began to pretend that they were working hard, while they themselves had absolutely nothing on the looms. Not at all embarrassed, they demanded the finest silk and the best gold for work, they hid all this in their pockets and continued to sit at empty machines from morning until late at night.

“I would like to see how things are going!” thought the king. But then he remembered the wonderful property of the fabric, and he felt somehow uneasy. Of course, he has nothing to fear for himself, but… still, let someone else go first! And the rumor about the outlandish fabric meanwhile spread throughout the city, and everyone was burning with the desire to quickly convince themselves of the stupidity and worthlessness of their neighbor.

“I’ll send my honest old minister to them,” thought the king, “he’ll look at the fabric: he’s smart and takes his place with honor.”

And so the old minister entered the room, where the deceivers were sitting at empty machines.

"Lord have mercy! thought the minister, wide-eyed. “I don’t see anything!”

Only he didn't say it out loud.

The deceivers respectfully asked him to come closer and tell him how much he liked the drawing and the colors. At the same time, they pointed to empty machines, and the poor minister, no matter how goggled his eyes, still did not see anything. And there was nothing to see.

“Oh my God! he thought. - Am I stupid? That's something I never thought of! Save God, if anyone finds out! .. Or maybe I’m not fit for my position? .. No, no, you can’t admit that I don’t see the fabric!

Why don't you tell us anything? one of the weavers asked.

Oh, this is sweet! answered the old minister, looking through his spectacles. What a drawing, what colors! Yes, yes, I will report to the king that I am extremely pleased with your work!

Happy to try! - said the deceivers and began to paint, what kind of pattern and combination of colors is there. The Minister listened very carefully, so that later he could repeat all this to the King. And so he did.

Now the deceivers began to demand even more silk and gold, but they only lined their pockets, and not a single thread went to work.

Then the king sent another dignitary to the weavers. It was the same with him as with the first. He looked and looked, but still nothing but empty machines, he did not spot.

Well, how do you like it? - the deceivers asked him, showing the fabric and explaining patterns that were not there.

“I’m not stupid,” thought the dignitary, “so I’m out of place? Here's one for you! However, you can’t even give a look! ”

And he began to praise the fabric, which he had not seen, admiring the wonderful pattern and combination of colors.

Premium, premium! he reported to the king. Soon the whole town was talking about the delightful fabric.

Finally, the king himself wished to admire the curiosity, while it had not yet been removed from the machine. With a whole retinue of selected courtiers and dignitaries, among whom were the first two, who had already seen the fabric, the king appeared to the deceivers, who were weaving with all their might on empty looms.

Magnifique! 1 Isn't it? said the first two dignitaries. - Wouldn't you like to admire? What a drawing... paints!

And they poked their fingers into space, imagining that everyone else was seeing the fabric.

“What, what is it?! thought the king. - I do not see anything! After all, it's terrible! Stupid, am I? Or am I not fit to be king? That would be the worst!”

Oh yes, very, very nice! said the king at last. - Deserves my approval!

And he nodded his head with a satisfied look, examining the empty machines: he did not want to admit that he did not see anything. The retinue of the king looked with all eyes, but saw no more than himself; nevertheless, everyone repeated with one voice: “Very, very nice!” - and advised the king to make himself an outfit from this fabric for the upcoming solemn procession.

Magnifique! Wonderful! Excellent! 2 - only heard from all sides; everyone was so excited!

The king awarded each deceiver with an order and granted them to the court weavers.

All night on the eve of the celebration, the deceivers sat at work and burned more than sixteen candles - so they tried to finish the new outfit for the king by the deadline. They pretended to take the fabric off the looms, cut it with large scissors, and then sew it with needles without thread.

Finally they announced:

The king, accompanied by his retinue, came to dress them himself. The deceivers raised their hands as if they were holding something, saying:

Here are the pantaloons, here is the camisole, here is the caftan! Great outfit! Light as a web, and you won't feel it on your body! But that's the beauty of it!

Yes Yes! - said the courtiers, but they did not see anything: there was nothing to see.

Deign now to undress and stand here, in front of a large mirror! the deceivers said to the king. - We'll dress you up!

The king undressed, and the deceivers began to "dress up" him: they pretended to put on him one piece of clothing after another and, finally, attach something at the shoulders and waist: it was they who "put on" the royal mantle on him! And the king at this time turned in front of the mirror in all directions.

God, how's it going! What a wonderful sitting! - whispered in the retinue. What a drawing, what colors! Luxurious outfit!

The canopy is waiting! - reported the chief of ceremonies.

I'm ready! - said the king. - Does the dress fit well?

And he turned once more in front of the mirror: after all, it was necessary to show that he was carefully examining his outfit.

The chamberlains, who were supposed to carry the train of the royal robe, pretended to lift something from the floor, and followed the king, stretching out their hands in front of them - they did not dare to pretend that they did not see anything.

And so the king marched through the streets under a luxurious canopy, and the people said:

Ah, what an outfit! What a luxurious robe! What a wonderful sitting! Not a single person confessed that he did not see anything: no one wanted to pass himself off as a fool or a worthless person. Yes, none of the king's outfit has ever caused such enthusiasm.

Why, he's completely naked! one little boy suddenly shouted.

Ah, listen to what the innocent child says! - said his father, and everyone began to whisper to each other the words of the child.

Why, he's completely naked! - shouted at last, all the people.

WALL

The house was huge, brick, multi-storey, with many entrances, a bastion house, a fortress house, with dirty gray walls, windows that were not too big, and quite tiny balconies, on which it was not so much to drink tea on a summer evening - it was difficult to turn around. It was erected in the late forties on the site of an old cemetery, erected directly on the bones, on the ownerless remains of unknown citizens and citizens, long forgotten by careless relatives. However, now only the old-timers of the house knew about the cemetery, and there were fewer and fewer of them, they scattered to new districts of the capital, dispersed, gathered, or even quietly departed into another world, where no one cares: there is a wooden cross above you, a block of granite with a gold inscription or a house designated by the author.

By the way, the author spent a not entirely cloudless childhood in that house and now easily recalls: none of the tenants have ever been disturbed by all sorts of dead souls, all sorts of shadows, otherworldly voices. All this is empty, absurd mysticism, evening fairy tales for children of primary preschool age. And even then it is said: to live alive ...

With its fortified façade, the house overlooked a free avenue, a lord's avenue, along which they rushed about like spacious state-owned cars, in whose shiny black hoods the drilled Moscow sun trembled. Nobles is oblizh, say the French, the free-experienced French, the position, therefore, obliges ... But in the courtyard of the house the sun was not at all shy, walked with might and main, painfully burned the backs of the boys, ”, in a lapta and a dozen more good games that have disappeared, to put it beautifully, in the abyss of time. The boys sunbathed in the yard in the middle of Moscow no worse than in the village, in the country or even in the sultry south, the boys bathed up to chicken skin in the cold Moskva River, where, at the risk of arms and legs, they descended along a steep cliff overgrown with burdock and swan; and on summer nights, this cliff was used for their innocent amusements by young lovers who wandered here from distant Presnya and nearby Dorogomilovka. In short, prim and gloomy front from the facade, from the rear, the house was a troubled raskhristanny varmint, and it was not big bosses who lived in it, but people of different ranks, who lived richer, who were poorer, someone, as the proverb says, liquid cabbage soup upset , and someone - small pearls, there were different worries, different chores, and if there was anything in common, it was only the yard.

Here the author wants to paraphrase a well-known sports expression and exclaim loudly: oh, yard, you are the world! The author runs the risk of being misunderstood, because the current, yesterday's and even the day before yesterday's generations of boys and girls grew up in neatly planned architecturally elegant quarters accessible to all winds, where the very concept of "courtyard" hurts the ear, and an indoor skating rink for figure exercises has become the world, or a warm swimming pool, or a secular tennis court, or, at worst, a cramped hockey box, sandwiched between the English and mathematical special schools. Maybe it's better, more useful, more productive. Still, sorry, sorry...

And actually, what is a pity? A contemporary poet is right when he categorically stated: “Cut down the cherry orchard, cut down! He is historically doomed!”

Later, in the fifties, a typical school building was built in the historically doomed yard, lawns were laid out, flowers and trees were planted, sandboxes and swings were installed, and the burdock embankment of the Moscow River was filled with asphalt and a parking lot for private cars was arranged there. Civilization!

At the time described - the end of the eighties of the scientific and technological revolution, May, a weekday, ten in the morning - a young man of about twenty entered the courtyard, blond, short-haired, tanned in the spring, naturally - in jeans, naturally - in sneakers, naturally - in a loose jacket, in a kind of white jacket with many pockets, rivets and zippers. Thousands of these guys roam the Moscow daytime streets and the Moscow evening streets, and we don't notice them, we don't pay our busy attention to them: We're used to it.

The young man entered the courtyard from the avenue through a long and cold arch-tunnel, quietly entered the quiet courtyard from the noisy avenue and stopped, looking around, perhaps struck by the silence that was unusual for the capital. But who was to make noise during these working hours? Nobody, nobody. There is a young mother pushing a stroller with a baby, hurries to the embankment - to intercept the river ozone. There, the grandmother drove to the bakery, to the dairy, to the grocery, a plastic bag in her hand, and on the bag the words were foreign, incomprehensible to the grandmother. A good boy came out of the school gate with a music folder under his arm, Brahms is in a hurry to torment or Ludwig van Beethoven himself, a good boy was released from unnecessary physical education. Now, now they will disperse, leave the yard, and it will again become empty and as if not real, uninhabited - for the time being ...

That's good, - the young man said mysteriously and smiled to himself.

This is where we will leave it - for a while.

In such a mighty house and tenants, you know, - a legion, no one really knows anyone. In the best case: "Hello, hello!", - and dispersed to the minks. This was earlier, when the house had just been built, then the new settlers tried to get to know each other better: the good spirit of communal apartments persistently tried to take root in separate ones. But every spirit is a fragile, ephemeral substance, and this communal one is no exception; it weathered, evaporated, floated away in a light fog along the industrial Moscow River. It is not excluded - to the Oka, it is not excluded - to the Volga, where in the coastal small towns, as they say in the newspapers, housing problems are still acute. And in our house today, only a few sociable citizens were decently familiar, and, of course, the notorious old-timers, the Mohicans, a dying tribe.

The old man from the seventh entrance has lived in the house since the forty-ninth year, he moved in here a strong and strong peasant - with his wife, of course, and with his schoolboy son, before that - he blew the war, then - the driver, rose to the rank of head of the motorcade, from this important position and went to retirement. The son grew up, became a builder, an engineer, at this particular moment he was in hot Africa, in a friendly country, with might and main he helped underdeveloped comrades to build something there - reinforced concrete. The old man's wife died about five years ago, they were buried on the Donskoy, in the old crematorium, the old women of the neighbor did not go to the funeral: it was scary, today - she, and tomorrow which one of them? ..

In short, the old man lived alone, lived in a one-room apartment - which they moved into forty years ago - an apartment, he went to the shops himself, cooked for himself, washed himself, wielded a vacuum cleaner himself. Star was.