Mission 777 Possible. Marina Sprouz

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СКАЧАТЬ next day. Marianna in thought: he’s not writing today… what’s going on? Who is he? She looked at the stranger’s profile picture with his son: there was a waterfall like Qi-energy, and in front of the waterfall, the round-faced image of a person.

      Marianna decided to ask first and wrote in the messenger:

      – Sorry for asking, tell me: what is your name?

      A reply came to the messenger. Marianna read the line:

      – Fool.

      Marianna looked at the word again, not believing her eyes: yes, it said: “Fool.”

      Marked

      And why did she approach my son… Marianna muttered, stirring the fish soup, “Now we have to go to court.” Marianna replayed the entire incident with Nikolash. Nikolash was playing with a boy on the street, the boys had a spat, and Nikolash kicked the boy. Out of nowhere, the boy’s mother appeared and slapped Nikolash on the cheek, leaving a red mark. And I had to call the police, now we’re being summoned to court. At least let me finish cooking the soup, Marianna continued stirring the fish head in the large pot. Done. She quickly grabbed the hot pot and carried it from the kitchen to the dining room. Ouch, it’s hot… Marianna couldn’t hold the pot, and the boiling water spilled onto her legs, burning her dress. Oh God, quickly under the water. A massive burn formed on her left leg. Will there be a scar? And I had to get involved with this court case…

      From the War

      Marianna stayed up too long at the computer, it was already half past midnight, her eyes closing in a half-daze. In front of her was a wooden shed, someone was sitting inside: a soldier, looking out through the doorway, leaning against the wooden wall of the shed. Shots were heard. He was scared, peeking through the opening and hiding again, a weapon lay on his legs, whether it was a rifle or not, it was hard to tell. The person was dressed in gray clothing, like a quilted jacket. It felt like a scene from a past war. What happens next… Will he survive or not… the shots sounded closer. The images disappeared.

      Accident

      Her body was sprawled on the stretcher. The gurney, surrounded by nurses, was being wheeled into the operating room. Her face was a bloody mess, blood stains appearing on her dress.

      – Internal bleeding, spleen is gone, bones shattered, – the doctor whispered nearby.

      – Does she have insurance? – the doctor asked the nurse.

      – She had nothing on her, they brought her like this. People found her by the side of the road.

      The gurney was wheeled into the operating room.

      – Pulse?

      – Blood pressure?

      – Let’s begin. The nurse searched for a vein, administered the drugs. The patient on the gurney was Amina. She was simply crossing the road when a car sped by, driven by either drunk or high young men. Amina rolled to the roadside, and the car immediately sped away. Now there was hope in the doctors, hope that she would survive.

      ***

      Marianna sat on a chair opposite her great-grandmother’s icon of Jesus Christ. She crossed herself with her right hand and looked at the icon. Her soul felt uneasy and troubled.

      ***

      They set Amina’s bones, performed numerous surgeries, but she remained disabled.

      First, reconcile with your sister

      Road from Donetsk to Rostov. Little Nikolash and Albert were a bit tired on the bus. The road was long, a whole twelve hours. They made the journey more bearable with frequent snacks, leaving behind a mess of leftovers. Marianna packed food into bags, then pulled them out again for snacks. Her legs swelled; Marianna’s leg condition, varicose veins, was acting up. After the long journey, Marianna’s legs were swollen, filled with fluid, and there was nowhere to stretch them in the crowded bus.

      Towards morning, Rostov appeared before us.

      Early dawn. We were supposed to be met. Amina’s husband approached us. Sergey looked thin and tired, with dark circles under his eyes, constantly drinking coffee; Marianna knew he had ulcers. We boarded a local bus, exhausted and disheveled, tossing our bags into the crowded cabin and setting off.

      “It’s just around the corner,” Sergey pointed out.

      A multi-story gray house, a communal apartment. Climbing to the second floor, we entered the tiny room they rented. A figure appeared in the hallway. It was Amina.

      “Marianna!” Amina exclaimed.

      Amina’s face was different. Amina sat in an old armchair, trying to push herself away with one crooked leg; the other leg didn’t work. Marianna continued to stand and look at Amina: only her eyes remained from her former face; scars remained on her face after the car accident, her nose turned into a swollen mess, her hands twisted, one leg limp. A lump caught in Amina’s throat. Tears began to flow uncontrollably, impossible to stop, streaming until her eyes swelled and it was impossible to look. It was her, Amina… Marianna’s soul was torn apart, looking at Amina; everything that hadn’t been cried out poured out of her soul. Amina could only be recognized by her eyes; even her voice had changed. And she used to be so beautiful, as slender as a flower, and now her face resembled a flattened Pekingese muzzle because her facial bones were broken. But the worst part was that she couldn’t walk…

      “I can’t speak…” (Marianna’s thoughts), only tears flowing from her eyes. They continued to flow like a stream without end.

      “First, reconcile with your sister…” – these words echoed in my head. They weren’t my words; I had heard something like this, it seemed written in the Bible, before giving gifts – reconcile with your brother or sister.

      “What children you have…” Amina remarked, especially the younger one… so lively.

      “Let’s eat, I’ve prepared something,” and Amina reached out with one twisted hand for the plates that inexplicably stood on the floor.

      “It’s more convenient for me down here, with the pots; I can’t reach sitting,” Amina explained. Again, a silent stream of tears rolled down Marianna’s face. Then Marianna noticed that Amina was in the chair, she didn’t have a wheelchair: “How do you get around without a wheelchair?”

      “You know, I rarely go out,” those idiot neighbors… When Sergey carried me in his arms from the entrance, they laughed, bastards; they laughed at me; well, I told them… couldn’t stand it.

      Marianna watches as Amina warms tea and food.

      “Sit down, take tea, eat from the road!”

      Marianna sat down on a chair near the tea.

      “This leg doesn’t move at all,” Amina СКАЧАТЬ