Fairytales for adults in the fourth dimension. Slava Sarazhin
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СКАЧАТЬ but why would I need to do that?" The boy asked with surprise.

      "You have to count each victory, each new piece of knowledge, each new piece of wisdom gained. The length of the rope will indicate how successful you are. As the lasso gets longer, your knowledge and experience will continue to grow, and when you weave a new piece into the rope, think about what the new piece of knowledge that you have found means, what you have achieved, and how much wiser you have become. Do not let fear stop you."

      "I will do as you have you have instructed me," the boy said, and turned and went to the women to get his first lesson. To learn how to make a strong rope from a simple ball of wool.

      P.S. As time passed, the boy became a young man. He caught his mustang with a strong lasso, made by his own hands, using the wisdom and knowledge he had learned in life. Believe me, the Dakota tribe would never starve, and the women would no longer look longingly at the worn hides of their wigwams while his mustang's hooves shook the dusty soil on the endless prairie. The white feathers of the noble eagle flying over his head were witness to his prowess.

      Wrongfully Accused!

      "Yet again that filthy bird landed right on my hat, and now I can't see a thing."

      "Go away, you worthless thing. How am I supposed to know what to say to a bird?"

      "They don't pay any attention to me. Why do these stupid people think that crows are scared of me?"

      "They are not only not afraid of me, but they use my head as an airfield!" "Go away, I tell you!"

      "How dare those stupid people treat me this way? They stuffed me with straw, dressed me in rags, and even made my eyes from different buttons! How am I supposed to look at the world through different sized buttons? If this crow doesn't' get off my hat I still won't be able to see anything! It's still squawking…"

      "If that was not enough of an insult, these people planted me on a pole, and guess what? It goes right through my ass! What a life!"

      A huge flock of crows, black as pitch, was flying above the corn field. The hoarse croaking of the crows carried far over the green expanse.

      The scarecrow stood in the field, impaled on a pole, in a battered old jacket. Eyes made of buttons of different sizes and colors were sewn onto the kindly round face, and an old straw hat sat on its head. Right on the edge of its hat sat a huge old crow cleaning its feathers.

      "How dare they do this to me: day and night in any weather I hang in this field, suffering from pouring rain and grueling heat? If there was just some reason behind it, but there isn't!"

      "Surely they could find newer clothes for me, and a more comfortable pole!"

      "How dare these impudent crows sit down on my head? I am here to scare them away! How dare they peck away at the corn on the cob right in front of me?"

      "Just shut up… I am sick of listening to you." The scarecrow heard next to his ear. "Who's there?" The scarecrow screamed in fright.

      "Well, you really are a nasty piece of work. I have spent the last half an hour sitting on your head and listening to your accusing monologue!" "Wow! A talking crow!" Whispered the amazed and surprised scarecrow.

      "You really are a nasty piece of work," said the crow with a sigh.

      "So, are you are saying that it's alright to have a talking scarecrow – this is normal, but instead the most intelligent of birds is supposed to be incapable of speech? Is that what you are saying? Also, please identify what gender you are. I may be a speaking crow, but I'm already tired of referring to you as «it». It's quite annoying!"

      "Those disgusting, bad people have stuck me in this field to scare away mutant crows!" The scarecrow yelled in a scared voice.

      "Shut up!" There was a deafening croak just above his ear.

      "I am a man," he responded, immediately frightened.

      "What? Who? Is there a man here?" The crow looked around pretending to be frightened.

      "Well, you asked how to address me… So, I'm a man!"

      "So from now on I'm supposed to refer to you as "Sir"?" The crow fell into raucous laughter.

      "So, why all these sarcastic taunts? Judging by the way you speak, you're an intelligent bird," the scarecrow replied politely. "You can call me the Scarecrow."

      "Very nice to meet you. My name is Crow," replied the Crow, flattered.

      "So," the crow continued, "instead of blaming everything and everybody, tear yourself off that pole and do something with your life! Stop blaming others – don't waste your time!"

      "Easy for you to say. I… I can't even move my fingers, and I have a pole stuck in the… well, you know where!" Said the Scarecrow indignantly.

      "Well, if a miracle could happen and your tongue can move around inside your straw head, then you'll be able to lift a finger, and do even more," said the crow, and she took off powerfully from the Scarecrow's straw hat, and soared into the blue sky.

      "Well, well!" Muttered the Scarecrow to himself, thoughtfully adjusting the straw hat on his head. "Well, well," he said a moment later in astonishment, as he realized what he had just done.

      You all know how the tale continues…

      A girl called Dorothy and her dog Toto passed by, on their way to the Emerald City. One day in the future, as we all know, the Scarecrow would become the wise ruler of the Emerald City. That's just how it happened!

      A rose fell on Azor's paw

      In one most ordinary garden, two roses were growing next to each other on the most ordinary pink rose bush. Just like in a fairy tale, they were most unusual roses. When they were still buds, they wondered about the meaning of life and their own purpose, in honor of which they were preparing to bloom in this world. However… only one of them was thinking about its purpose and the second one was simply prepared to come into the world. So, when the tender buds appeared on the rose bush, the rose bud that was seeking its destiny, asked the second bud:

      "Why are we born? What is the sense in all of this? What is our purpose? What am I to do for this world?"

      The second bud answered:

      "What purpose? What are you talking about? You're just a flower! Relax, drink from the nourishing juices of the soil, open up your petals to the sun, and don't think about anything else! Look around… Look how many buds there are around here and none of them ask themselves such silly questions."

      (I have to explain that these unique pink buds, communicated through extrasensory perception, or telepathy, if you wish, as a rose, of course, has no way of speaking, not even in a fairy tale).

      However, the first rose bud didn't want to drop the subject. It was searching for its destiny. The idea to simply be born, and then for the rose petals to dry up and fall to the ground, filled it with despair.

      The second bud just shook its head in disbelief:

      "Don't fill your head with such matters. Accept life for what it is! You have no purpose! What purpose can a flower have?" The second bud laughed telepathically.

      But the first bud would not let go. It was looking for an answer. It asked anything that flew by: birds, insects, and even СКАЧАТЬ