Programist book 1. day 2

And so it turned out. On the horizontal bars, I practiced with my renewed body for pleasure and in proud solitude, until I heard the whistling of the air. In the distance, on a fenced-off court, a modest silhouette with a racket could be seen. Well, of course, I got down and came closer. Suddenly he stopped himself:

"What should I say? I'll say something immodest, and she'll run away!"

"What's the difference! Just spend time with her! You're young and normal! Why should she refuse all of a sudden?"

"Hi! Can I play badminton with you?" I asked, slipping onto the court.

Lena blushed and nodded faintly. Yeah, she pointed to the second racket, she's carrying it with her!

"I've been warming up, I can play, so don't spare me and enjoy!" I winked at him. "Is it a plastic shuttlecock or a feather shuttlecock? Up to twenty-one?"

"P-plastic, yes..."

I fell silent, ostentatiously relaxed, and waited for the pitch. Lena, despite her embarrassment, moved prudently and gracefully, threw a shuttlecock, hit!.. The projectile soared in a beautiful arc to the other side of the field, and three jumps were barely enough to somehow repel it. Lena countered just as technically. I jumped to the other end of the field, didn't have time to wave my racket... and the plug with the monograms of feathers hit me in the bridge of my nose. The metal frame bit painfully into the skin, and the shuttlecock fell off at his feet.

Lena prettily put her hands to her face and started running towards me, terrified, but I cheerfully waved my glasses in my hand:

"Safe and sound! And we've been through more than that!"

"Take it off!" She shouted in alarm. "I can't calculate the power!"

Don't cross a lady! I dutifully ran to the edge of the playground to lay out my glasses, and came back in a hazy haze. Well, then I'll try to give you a pleasant victory and get out of breath properly. See that shuttlecock again!..

I didn't lose dryly, but with a huge gap in points. Both parties. On the other hand, the way Lena was focused and enthusiastic, her joyful smile — not too clearly, but still clearly proved that I was doing everything right. And somewhere in the grove nearby, an owl, deprived of flounces and unnoticed by us, hooted softly.

* * *

In an empty house, while there was still time for lights out, I sat down to finish writing the program. But something didn't work out.

"I'm a human being too, I'm wrong too," I said out loud and rechecked my writings.

Inaccuracies were quickly found, but there were countless of them. It seems that there is no such thing as an infallible memory, and the comfort here has completely unsettled me. An absent-minded Master of Programming!

"What will happen next?" I asked myself. "We've been original once, but will everything go on as usual? Of course, it's easier to make friends with everyone, but am I really no different from Semyon and don't deserve better? Maybe I'm not here out of a big desire, but out of an unhealthy imagination? I wouldn't really raise my head in the pioneer camps!"

Flustered, I lay down and tried to get the obsessive thoughts out of my head — since nothing bad happened from such a schedule, then there was no need for hypocrisy. Then Olga Dmitrievna returned from the meeting, and immediately lights out came. I didn't like useless thoughts: I still have the program. And the morning of the evening is more complicated. I need to sleep it off.