Vouchers For The Tourist Camp
Николай Зубец
Форма: Рассказ
Жанр: Проза на иностранных языках Объём: 3078 знаков с пробелами Раздел: "" Понравилось произведение? Расскажите друзьям! |
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I took three vouchers for the tourist camp - for myself, for my mother and my son. Took them for two terms, as usual. Always before we were lucky with the weather, but now the rains and rains. My eyes already ache from reading books; all stories, which I knew, I have retold to my son many-many times. And mother is already grumbling - in our summer house she suffered from rheumatism. But the rains do not spare us. We could not use even one term and decided to return the remaining vouchers. Already in the city I interceded in my trade union committee, shuffled my feet in accountancy and got the money back. But some mistake befell. Money, I see, was written out for both the terms. However I took them, said nothing, though felt myself rather uncomfortable. I am standing and suffering near the cash office. Little money it is, but it’s a pity to give it back. And it’s a shame not to give it back. Nevertheless I am walking away. Slowly, heavily, but I leave. I think up excuses, one uglier than another. I am already going down the street, but still have no appropriate justification. Dense clouds are hovering, and something rattles either overhead, or right inside it. Suddenly it started raining, even the downpour started. I run into the nearest porch - oh! - It is a court. If you believe in something, then everything turns out very logically. There are many people in the hallway, all of them are gloomy and anxious. A break just finished and gloomy people flocked into the courtroom. It could be seen from a window that the shower did not subside. I, too, entered the hall and sat at the entrance. A woman is being judged for distortions at her work. All is accurately proved. It is clear that not once she was engaged in such affairs, but so far only single episode was proved. It struck me that all the serious talk was connected with the ridiculous sum - even smaller then mine, but similar. It became very uncomfortable. And the guard at the door somehow looked at me more closely. The defendant continues to get out of a scrape and yet she is very confused. And so I feel sorry for her! And I felt sorry for myself. And my miserable sum of money in my pocket I feel like heaviness. It seems that the security guard as if with X-ray eyes sees it. I got up to leave, but he does not let me out – I have to wait for a break. I could hardly persuade him - I can not wait - and I rushed back to work just under the heavy rain. The accountants are looking at me suspiciously. Of course, they take the money, but I still beg to rewrite the payment paper. They pose: we shall rewrite, do not worry and go, please... Oh no, really! I do not want to squirm then like that poor woman, especially because money has been paid. I endured all the discontented looks, waited till all the ceremonies of special pauses were over, but still I returned the receipt, and tore it with pleasure. And there is already no rain. And the blue puddles are gently shining. And summer has not gone yet. Maybe we have left the tourist camp in vain? © Николай Зубец, 2011 Дата публикации: 21.07.2011 21:30:39 Просмотров: 1982 Если Вы зарегистрированы на нашем сайте, пожалуйста, авторизируйтесь. Сейчас Вы можете оставить свой отзыв, как незарегистрированный читатель. |