LITMIR.BIZ

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they came to him only on business, buy potatoes or borrow honey and sugar. The neighbors were good, although some were often noisy. Then, slowly, televisions appeared in every family, but the man did not have the money to buy it, because when he bought a couple of books on sale, he again became infected with the idea of swimming.

      He won’t be able to be a sailor or a pirate anymore, but he still wants to feel this breeze and salt on his lips. The Volga River was just passing through the city. And it’s not so difficult to buy a ticket for a liner, it’s left to save exactly a thousand rubles and you can go on the road.

      Despite such successes in life, but there were also hardships. The death of his father never left Vadim’s soul. The father, like a ghost, came after his son and haunts him in dreams. In nightmares, he sees his mother and sister, he woke up in a cold sweat on his couch in the middle of the night. Then he started smoking. He read that it helps to relieve stress, but the effect was small, the maximum removed the tremor of the hands during work.

      I had to forget about the idea with the liner. Vadim could not live with this mental pain. The ghosts of his father, mother and sister, whom he barely remembers, followed him everywhere, it seemed to him that they were whispering in his ear in a particularly strong current of wind, in every rustle of leaves and the creak of snow under his shoe. Vadim became withdrawn at this point in his life, dressed even warmer, because during work he shuddered in chills. From such stress, he seemed to have aged another ten days, but he was well immune. His brown eyes had darkened and seemed just black.

      As a result, when he was sitting on the couch, hunched over and thinking about a jar of change and banknotes that were on the table next to a smoking cigarette butt, Vadim decided to spend the accumulated money on a psychologist to whom he could tell about his problem. Personally, the man assumed that he was developing schizophrenia and so far he did not know how to get rid of it. He noticed the cigarette butt and angrily threw it out the window. Then I took a whole pack out of my coat and threw it in the same place so that he definitely couldn’t smoke again.

      After that, he went to a psychologist and made an appointment on Friday evening, when Vadim would return after work. Of course, he will come with a loaded briefcase, but the documents and notebooks of the children will wait until night.

      The psychologist had a spacious office, his own chair, coffee table and sofa. On the nightstand there was a phone and an aquarium in which a fish was splashing, there was food in an orange package next to it. The walls were covered with gray wallpaper.

      The psychologist was extremely flexible in communicating with Vadim. The man was lying on the sofa, having previously taken off his shoes. The psychologist, Nikolai Mikhailovich, listened attentively to his client. Vadim spoke in a crumpled and torn manner and sometimes got up from his seat or took a sitting position, before grabbing his hair and as if tearing it out. Nevertheless, Nikolai Mikhailovich showed full tolerance for Vadim and at the end of the session expressed all his suspicions, which he sorted out by points while writing in a notebook.

      – You are troubled by nightmares, you are seeing relatives, and you also have a tremor, – Nikolai Mikhailovich began. – You do have symptoms of schizophrenia, but you should not worry, only to improve your condition you need to be in public and on the street more often. You also have depression from a mental trauma, you have lost your father, nightmares are caused because of it and, perhaps, you feel guilty about what happened, try to get a pet or friends to somehow forget yourself, but I will prescribe antidepressants if folk methods do not help. – all this time, Vadim listened to the speech of the psychologist, he felt the emptiness of this conversation, as if he had expressed everything that had boiled over, but he still did not tell something in more detail.

      – Thank you, Doctor, – Vadim thanked hoarsely, he managed to raise his tone while he was talking.

      He got up and took a torn piece of paper from the psychologist’s notebook. Vadim said thank you again and left.

      To be honest, Vadim really followed the instructions of a psychologist, as he listened to his father as a child. He didn’t get a pet, but he started going out more often and talking to people. For the sake of interest, he even went to a local bar, but apart from a black eye and a spoiled mood, he got nothing.

      To some extent, Vadim began to like living like this, the tremor passed, but the nightmares still did not go away, but the man swallowed like food for lunch or dinner, they were a tasteless mass that he hid somewhere inside and it seemed that they festered and turned black. Vadim again returned to the diary, which he abandoned when he had been working at school for three years.

      He took the diary outside and, sitting on a bench, wrote down thoughts, fauna around. That’s when he started writing short stories. And to be honest, I smiled at this case. He took the work for granted, did it right and did not show his anxiety, but Vadim was already used to it while he worked for six years in these walls. People here began to merge with the walls, the same white and faded. Every day he met gray and gloomy. He did not shave his beard at all, it reached the end of his neck and already fell a little on his chest.

      Vadim took care of her, tied her with a blue silk ribbon, combed her with a wooden comb that he carried in his jacket pocket. The first wrinkles and barely noticeable gray hair appeared on the face. At home he continued to read, but the lines of the books turned into ordinary black, ink spots, without meaning, color and taste. Vadim could imagine anything with the help of lines from the book, the great battle, the azure and transparent seas of the Caribbean islands that are inhabited by pirates with and without honor, but gradually he could only see clumps of blots in his head.

      He was saving up for a dream, gradually moving towards the goal, but without that enthusiasm in his youth. He is already thirty-four, the USSR has collapsed and a new era has begun in the Russian state, but Vadim continued to live in the past. He remembered his family, but these ghosts stopped hurting him, rather because of them he lost the meaning of his existence. He had no friends, had no family of his own, and hoped with all his heart that the descendants of his dear sister Anya were already walking on this sinful earth. He did not cry when he said goodbye to his mother and sister, it seemed that all the tears had been dried for a long time in that pillow with a blue pillowcase, in that bed of the orphanage where little Vadim slept and quietly choked with tears, but at the age of thirty-four, when he thought that nothing could surprise or impress him except for the ships on the water, as he abruptly began to cry.

      It happened unexpectedly at another dry lunch, dry, because Vadim did not feel the taste of food, or rather did not revel in it as before, and now tears flowed from his cheeks. The food immediately acquired a taste, a salty taste, like the sea on which pirate ships rafted in search of merchants who had whole pockets with doubloons. He rejoiced and wept, laughed with his mouth full and wiped his tears with a handkerchief made of a cotton rag sewn with a linen piece of shirt.

      It wasn’t very cultured for him, he didn’t act according to manners, but there was nothing holding him back anymore, or he rotted inside, like any other person. Only here he did not vomit clean rust or rotten giblets, no, he just kept everything, as if his stomach was burning from heartburn, perhaps it bubbled inside him like lava, because he began to add different spices to food more often, because there was no taste on his tongue.

      Nevertheless, despite such mental problems, he was able to escape from this barbed wire, from which he cut and scratched harder, not without scars, of course, but alive and much stronger.

      Vadim Alexandrovich worked hard every day and continued his service as a teacher, and it was already 1999. The school year will end soon, and very soon this amazing XX century. On one of these days, Vadim Alexandrovich was heading to school. Today he has 5 lessons in the morning and 6 more lessons in the afternoon and only one «window», as the teacher’s free time was called. Monday was a pretty busy day for the teacher.

      After spending the first three lessons, Vadim Alexandrovich sighed, as the big break began and the children ran to the lower floor at full speed. And Vadim Alexandrovich himself was

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