З0 December. About New year remains... Yes remains nothing. The further you live, the more tightly the friend for the friend New year. Proceeding from this logic of sensations, in some days they will merge in something one. On Sunday New year, on Tuesday following. Though do not assort a fur-tree...

What for it is recollected УАЗ. Our film crew of a documentary film hastening on December, 31st from a deep province on base. Deserted road. Drifts. A blizzard. Grows dark. And inside, a little bit feverish presensation of a forthcoming holiday. All дремлят. From time to time, I lose I fall asleep and I wake up from blow by a chin about a skobu-handle впередиторчащего seats. And so it is a lot of times...

We removed the grandmother. It in war carried похоронки. The grandmother told, how it is hated by all grandmothers of a small village where she lives. Has passed fifty (I do not remember now how many) after war, and it on the former hate. Because it brought похоронки. And here our director was come to mind by""brilliant"idea, to reconcile grandmothers. We have set our old woman in УАЗ and have brought to its girl-friends, on any deserted boondocks. The sun in the sky. Clear frosty Prenew Year's day. We have put the camera. Our old woman has quitted the computer. In a kitchen garden a certain granny dug. Our old woman:
- Mashenka! The darling! - and having opened embraces, it was routed to the granny.
That, увидав our old woman, has lifted a decent cudgel and напрямки, rolling in snow, has rushed towards to our old woman. And that she shouted, what terrible abusive black words that we skilled cinema-men have moved back...
On this shout neigbours-grandmas from nowhere began to come up and arming on the move than it is necessary, have rushed off to us. Similar to white sparkling snow, on a raven...
- They here do not love me... - our grandmother has whispered. It was not gathered to recede. On the contrary, went to them, somehow heeling, whether permanently delete about bowing, whether for it feet gave away.

Can be to it has come to mind once and for all to finish such hatred. Let will beat... But such outcome, photogenic and dramatic and very much for cinema advantageous did not approach us. Then film documentation officers worked is more thin.

Without waiting мордобоя, we have somewhat quicker pushed the heroine of our plot in УАЗ and have got away. And then long sat at her place, among dusty plastic розочек and ragged walls and listened, listened, listened, as it carried похоронки to these aunts and as it hated and hid and ran up from it, as if from the plague...

I went in the computer. Towards to New year. There, where I went many fires and for me waited. For all of us waited. But nobody rejoiced. Even nobody has suggested to drink that in general for cinema-men was uncharacteristic, for the expiring year... All was thought of the lonely not forgiven old woman, in the ragged small house. New Year, somewhat the most ruthless holiday in a year. Then I have written the story: «the Three-minute plot». G ive «Evening Sverdlovsk». There was a story on March, 28th, 1987

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