Terrible biographies

In principle, it can be called deaf, only 30 houses, surrounded by a forest, through which to the nearest villages about a day of the journey, about 30 km. Dachnikov, who came only for the summer, was the whole family, the rest lived all year round a real village isolated life. Once a month, a car fellow came, and otherwise the inhabitants provided themselves. The most warm memories remained about that time, I still remember the taste of fresh milk, baked in coals of potatoes, drying of mushrooms and apples, watering and weeding vegetables, as you rewind you in the basin of the ass, shot down by salt, well, and many other similar things, well, something was carried to the wrong steppe, and a few unusual cases from this village: I was 7 years old and I was unusual at night and at night.

I wanted to cast. The toilet at the far end of the site and, according to the petty need, to drag on, laziness went out to the porch, cast from the steps to the thickets, admire the starry sky and the stunning silence of the sleeping village. The night was cloudless and the moon shone brightly, so I saw the outlines of the courtyard quite clearly. Having outlined a wide arc on the last, I turned to the left and froze.

A hefty snow-white dog peeked around the corner of the house, a breed such as hound or greyhound, and motionlessly watched me. This went on for about a minute, I could not move, I was struck by anthractions from heels to the crown. We stood so for a minute, after which he backed away and disappeared around the corner. It was a mess to walk and check where this strange dog was dumped and I quickly dumped back home.

And only the next morning I remembered that at home in the city there was a large figurine on the wall with absolutely the same greyhound and grandmother, wiping her when cleaning, said that she was guarding our house. From the nearest residential building, we were separated by a large field with cartoons and a dilapidated old house, I don’t remember whose. They hung it away from the houses because, most likely someone brought from the city of firecrackers and we conducted tests to launch toads into space.

Expenifiers dragged on and we did not notice how to get dark. Suddenly, one of us saw something inside the forest and froze with his mouth open and outstretched. A cigar -shaped something, gray, slowly and silently swam over the forest, on the surface of which the sunset and clouds dimly reflected. We stood silently for about 5 minutes, until this thing disappeared from sight.

Next, an exchange of views went, but it looked like a more or less familiar one. I was an active peanut and often invented classes for myself without distracting others. At that time, we lived together with my grandmother, and parents came only for the weekend. One of the Fridays, in the late afternoon, I could not wait for their arrival and decided to meet the turn with the highway to our village, and this was about 3 kilometers.

It was in the fall, so I pushed the warm Kurtz and rubber boots, preparing to storm the wet mud, which our road represented. I managed to freely put up to the end of the village and go beyond the outskirts, as the rain and the lowland, along which the road went, began to tighten the fog. It was then that the adventures began. At first I stumbled upon a flock of geese, I was very afraid of them, so, as soon as they started hissing and clapping their wings, I flew off the road and pulled over the bushes to go around them along the arc.

And the fog began to get out of the thicker and the rain began to whip seriously. I got lost in the campaign, went in the wrong direction and imperceptibly found myself in a deep champing mud on his knee. I went out of 30 meters from my last strength, my boots sucked, I somehow pulled out my leg in one sock, but one horseradish was exhausted and finally got bogged down. Terrible sounds were heard from the veil of the rain, cows and goats bleached, around thick fogs, I was all wet and demoralized.

I just lay down and began to roar with all my might. After 15 minutes, someone came, by the scruff of the scruff of the mud and hand and brought me to the porch of the nearest house. They left me there. I was wet and hungry, continued to roar in full throat and they heard me in the house. They dragged inside, changed into dry ones, gave tea with honey and tincture, and I escaped on a warm stove.

By that time, my loss was discovered, my grandmother with the parents arrived raised the alarm, the whole village was in active search mode and quite soon they found me a living and good house in an extreme house. Grandfather with a grandmother lived in this house, they led a large farm with a bunch of living creatures and they had a spacious backyard, which naturally soaked during the rain, where I was bogged down, as in a swamp.

The most cymet of this story is that the next morning my grandfather went to expel the stomach and saw my tracks, from the road to the middle of the courtyard, where the lost boot was discovered, and from there to the house. But my traces were the only ones, there was a smooth crust of the dried earth nearby.

Who won me and brought me to their home, and whether this "someone" was unknown. Thank you all for reading. Chukchi you yourself know, combine minusetics. In my defense, I’ll say that there is no fiction here, all the events are exactly those that I remember. Without artistic fiction. Show completely.