All the misfortune of Gladysheva заключалосьв that the thoughts in his head began to appear before he could do any of this. How to become a member of the Union of writers for him, indeed, it was a complete mystery, especially on this issue, he would not defeat the stock of their character and one minute. One only mention this organization brings him such a strange horror of what he had experienced only at the word "army", where скооро had to go to serve.
He thought, too old geezers with gray beards, who dwelt there for ккафедрами, as in the trenches, and defended employed once tremendous efforts bastions from the attacks of young insolent fellows, some of them have already claimed. This mechanism gave a good зуботычину anyone посягавшему without the right to inherit on paternal rights, and it memorized for a long time, maybe for life, but in any case, the second attempt was not earlier than заимев same gray hair.
Those who had the right to inherit his father's path, confidently stood up to her and стремителтьно has been on the podium to dad, nothing only before making and putting the achievement of literary exploits at sometime later. How many really talented people off of desire to engage in literature this mechanism is known to God alone. That's Gladyshev received today зуботычину.
Somewhere in his chest and sore , and he couldn't find a place. If he had now at least a little money, he would take down a drink more — 'd go to a restaurant. But without the money to go nowhere.
On the street quite colder. Red burning stars of the Kremlin hasn't warmed his soul, and he understood that he must return to the hotel.
Озябнув so that he began to tremble, he suddenly почувствовл themselves homeless dog, and the poor, whose fate it is to sleep on the bench or in the receiver police station, he became scared that it may happen to him, that it is not so far from that. As if recollecting himself from sleep, which was wandering with a fright in the heart Gladyshev began looking around, as if wondering where he was, and then almost ran to the metro station.
It was still relatively late, but in his soul was born a doubt struck already hour of the night: "the Transition ends in 1 hour of the night".
Doubt it vanished when he saw that out of the underpass of the metro сворачиввают pedestrians. Gladyshev went quieter, his thoughts were again abstract:
"Well, not exactly. If I wrote something, something about me is not to say that I am not a writer. I am a writer, but not the writer who works in literature, who creates like a craftsman for bread, but he who acts freely, unfettered by the certainty that the material dependency burden of his work, because is created, they will bring him the benefits even for a penny, and maybe nobody will ever even going to be read, and will not be awarded attention even a dozen people. It is freedom from money gives a great advantage to the Creator. He can put on paper what he thinks, what filled his soul, and not what obliges to write obtained as a job social order. It is so freely and independently worked many Russian writers of the past centuries. And count Tolstoy wrote a huge "War and peace" for anything, only not for the money. And if not for the money, which should be for the sake of love. Here is love what is another, Yes Inge essence important question. The main thing — not for the money.
Of course, I must admit that I hoped at the expense of the novel improve their financial situation and, without doubt, become a wealthy man. Although I was in a few believe it, and I even tried to cheat myself that I write simply because I интересрно, and just because I want to write something, now I can already see quite clearly that the so — once and for all — to earn money on literature impossible. At the feeders pigs are dense ring, and a young pig is worth a lot of effort прогбиться there, push apart in their hand and обеспмечить a place in this dense row ass parade: nothing comes without a fight. Loaf of literature — this is one of those fatty and tidbits, near which is so pleasant to have your buffet, and because there ten times harder to get through than anywhere else. And although before gets big and heavy Kush, allowing to live not that easy, but with a certain degree of luxury, tremendous, exhausting work on the mind, hand-eye, few stands, frightened by this."
Such reasoning, успокоившими his and led the nerves in normal, relaxed state of mind, Gladyshev and reached the door. Here, ежась from the cool autumn evening he was happy now, five minutes later, he comes into your comfortable room, took off for him Hippo, strip down, take a warm shower — it's so nice when we can do it with pleasure dive in your bed, under a warm blanket. Then he turns on the nightlight and will read some ерундовую газетенку, rejoicing like a boy, simple charms of life. Perhaps he will even call the restaurant and order a Cup of coffee in the room, maybe if наскребет in his pocket, enough to tip: think somewhere in his clothes, that remained in the hotel, also money. If not наскребет, tomorrow, be sure to ask Behemoth three to four hundred, and maybe if there is enough spirit to overcome shyness and embarrassment, and all the thousand. In the end, he just promised to give him money and nothing to reject and to allocate it as much as was necessary.
Pride Gladysheva the first time suffered from this dependency, but soon accepted. Besides, there was such a dependency, it may not be obliged: he was free to dispose of their time as you like and do whatever he wanted. It was only necessary to perform only one condition: to accompany him, Hippo, in all his travels, where he not thought of and do not need to travel. The first time this condition made to feel Gladysheva , that he is a part of Luggage, suitcase to carry everywhere for хозяеввами with clarity and without confusing, but then it passed and with it his soul surrendered even faster than he expected. But this Board allowed him to pay more attention to their creative work, his personality, his own mind and his soul.
Together with the Hippopotamus and Veronica Gladyshev went to the Black sea, Gelendzhik, then with them went to Moscow after a short arrival home.
In Gelendzhik, however, the young couple was accompanied by someone else from their previous company, but in Moscow they already Nghe went. Behemoth everywhere carried with him only his person, giving him quite generously money on all kinds of expenses, only occasionally forgetting to do this and, thus leaving it for a while without means of livelihood, as it is now.
Sometimes Hippo communicated with Гладышевым eye to eye. It was brought to them from the earliest times, as soon as they met, and Hippo opened it extraordinary interlocutor, flight of his thoughts able to ascend to the inaccessible, the sky-high given and show a way anybody. Apparently, this was a valuable and necessary quality was some need, and потму Hippo so attached to Гладышеву. They certainly were not friends. They were too different people who might rather hate each other than love. But what was lacking Behemoth, he drew the Gladysheva, and тотвосполнял its resources from space culture and sources of what способнва eat only creative nature.
Here Мосвке eyes Гладышеву came across two interesting for his books, and he put лоточникуза them all the money that were then with him.
First, Gabriel Garcia Marquez's "one Hundred years of solitude" he excitedly read for a couple of sleepless nights, after which slept sweetly and quietly the whole day in the cosy and expensive room.
Second, Knut Hamsun, reading is less enthusiastic, conceding novel "Hunger", as the flavor of bread выклевав an interesting novel "Mystery", but for "pan" and not holding.
Especially not like I had to Гладышеву that the main character in the "Mysteries", and, therefore, to all appearances, the author himself, who отзывалсиь about Tolstoy, calling him almost бездарностью, but, despite this, it was in the novel something charming.
Then he sought out everywhere prohibited Montaigne, but couldn't find not that works, but at least the "Experiments". What has gotten to this good-natured Frenchman Collegium of the Supreme present it was impossible. Good old edition of the Bible, which Gladyshev dreamed, too never met him NIV one букинистическом store. After the announcement of the "Provisions on the limitation of disordered information for the population" it among many others ranked in the lists of unwanted was withdrawn from all forms of trafficking.
Gladyshev sorry that a few months ago, when had the unexpected opportunity to acquire древнецерковной Bible written back at sunset middle ages in the old Slavonic language, failed to persuade the Hippo to give it to him as a gift. In addition, that this book represents doubtless interest, as a monument of history, it was the bearer of authentication, rose from the depth of centuries. A few days of thick volumes of heavy, manuscript, like a real book lay the Gladysheva house, and he saw how they emit in the dark let the weak, but still glow, and it was a real miracle. He didn't want to go with this book.
In such thinking being, Gladyshev took the room key at the reception, walked into the Elevator and went up to the ninth floor of the hotel.
Meet he came across a well-dressed couple foreseen in the restaurant — all sorts of assumptions that people make, largely depend on the person thinks: what hurts the, as they say, that says. Gladyshev thought again that you need to ask Behemoth money. This was very uncomfortable, but had no choice: he had no other means of livelihood, and even yourself Gladyshev was afraid to confess that addicted to the handouts from from a Hippopotamus, let generous, but not less humiliating as a drug. Admit it meant to strike their own self-esteem, which now had been infringed.
They say that the beggar in advance hates the one who gives alms: anyone who throws a coin to his feet, and causes thus invisible prick his sense of dignity. Handouts so meager that they have to migrate in large numbers, and these многочисленне injections form in his soul piercing, blood trickling wound, in the depths of which is born of hatred to any of the following, who without any intent comes and puts his hat handful of coppers.
Something similar happened in the soul Gladysheva. He was a poor, living in a luxury hotel, but every minute рискующим lose this place. He had one, but very solid bearer, who is not stingy. However Gladyshev still have been in that situation of humiliation and fear, as though hatred still not held his heart.
The key softly entered the semi-circular hole expensive castle. Gladyshev clicked on it, feeling the pleasant, elastic resistance springs. Came a soft click, the door opened and he entered into the hallway single suites, threw dirty боттинки, padded barefoot to the bathroom, stripped, hung up on a hook my clothes, a little twisted in front of a large, full-length mirrors, вмурованным in the wall: touched by the hand of his вялло hanging member, as if wanting to pull it out and make a long, turned his back and meticulously and at the same time, if to himself, with a languid longing in his eyes examined its small round buttocks with a cute little mole smaller than a dime on any of them translated the eyes above the thighs and then turned sideways to the mirror, critically evaluating its a slim figure, which would not hurt to have more muscles at its core group, and sighed with regret that do not have the will to weightlifting, climbed into the tub, drew the curtain, and опрустившись cold pale pink enamel, lay down and watched as his body disappears under the warm water.
Shortly above the surface of the water remained only the shoulders, hairy crotch, where perched like a baby mouse, flaccid penis and toes with hooked, incorrect, as it seemed to him, forms fingers, expanding, hammered to the top. His body was suspended. He made a little effort, and down it went. Hairy island went under the water, buttocks touched the enamelled surface of the metal. He relaxed again. The islet with her little inhabitant again surfaced. Spray of warm water pleased to have washed his thighs, with particular strength slipping between his legs.
Gladyshev could not спокойносмотреть on my naked body. A very common ailment that boys usually have the temerity to get sick of fourteen or fifteen years old, went along with him to this day. He was tempted by itself, and most frightening was the fact that he, a young, healthy, handsome guy совсемне needed in women. His suit is: don't superfluous troubles and doubts, extra растрант, gifts, shopping, meals, but satisfied until some time, until техсамых when this was bothering him more and more.
Last year he had a particularly painful struggle between the temptation and conscience, successive waves. It was his horror of loneliness, the end of which was not visible. Ashamed to say, but he was not destined to be with a woman never though about it, he knowed all things. But better, as they say, to see once than hear a hundred times, and it "live"...er, how are meeting to discuss the people, and never once saw.
He again bathe his body in water, and it reappears as he рассладил muscles. Little fossil on кучерявом island again beckoned him.
"Damn! — swore Gladyshev and began to climb out of the tub, feeling that his further stay in such обстановек undesirable. — All people — beasts!"
He got out of the bath, tiled floors wide bathroom of the room, took off his coat hangers large Terry towel and long вытирался them, looking at himself in the mirror. When it came to an intimate place, he again had to make an effort to wiping not passed in arousing fondling. He succeeded, and, still wiping the course of his head, he went into the room.
Gladyshev was not very observant, but he caught my eye that the toilet articles left in the bath, when he came back, lay seems to be not so, as he left them. However, not assuming anything criminal, not even allowing the thought that someone in his absence could enter this холостяцкое home, where and ьрать there was once nothing, he attributed this discrepancy in the atmosphere in the bathroom at the expense of their carelessness and scattered memory, which, moreover, no one forced into hard memorization of things: to whom he was afraid of? He was not a spy or приступником.
Feeling in the dark floor lamp and pulling for вревочку switch, he turned on the light, but to my surprise the room found too obvious traces of someone's presence of outsiders. Everything was upside down bottom up, and even the беспморядок that this room was since Gladyshev live here, was nothing compared with what was happening here now.
"Who was here? Who here rummaging?!" — bewildered, he thought, and turned to the corner where there was a bed, noticed that someone lies to her.
