It is old story


On the train with grandma by Ann Wood

I once ate a fight on the train. At the train station Burgas-Yambol-Elhovo. To be precise, I ate it between Burgas and Yambol, there is a change and you get on another train to Elhovo. And to be quite precise, it wasn't exactly a fight, because my grandmother popped me twice in the trunk to show her upbringing in the companionage of the compartment, but then she sat and grinded my head until we came, with such constancy that I regretted that it didn't take me one fight to get through. The occasion?
When I was ten or twelve, when the summer vacation came, my luggage was tight for the last school day and I was sent to my grandmother's. Kef and enjoyment, for three months I can't get my kids 'wanderings, they cook me whatever I want, they love me to have a seizure, they give me money for a summer movie, I eat belly ice cream and other such grandparents' extras. This time, however, my grandmother stayed in Burgas for two or three days before taking me to comfort her, since she had married her daughter at sea - to go to the beach.
At that time, like every kid in the age group 10-12, I desperately, furiously, ominously and desperately wanted a pet. At home, however, words did not allow me to think, so I was forced to improvise. And going to the beach gave me great opportunities. I adopted my jellyfish.
I dragged the jellyfish into a plastic bag, then transferred it to a jar of pickle, from which, after a day or two, an inhuman stench began, and when it came time to go with my grandmother to Elhovo, my mother gladly agreed to take the jellyfish with me.
And now imagine the badge in the compartment, a warm June, a noon bash, me and a grandmother with two hundred bags, three hundred hats and a jar. And in the jar of sadness, my fleshy drip is my jellyfish white. And the little one would end up with a safe arrival in Yambol and an eternal friendship between jellyfish and a child, if the compartment was not full, and some cheeky woman at the station Vladimir Pavlov started to scream that it was getting bad from that stench. Grandma said, "Well, your jellyfish is dead, you have to throw it." WHO?!? Absurd. And I was jealous. The woman who was getting bad started demanding something from her grandmother, and she, the sweetheart, is so embarrassing that it really doesn't stink, I'm my beloved and granddaughter, how to break my heart by tearing out a jar and throwing it away. .
I think that even today, these people imagine hell. The stench of dead jellyfish and sweaty laborers on a train in the midst of a hot summer, and the backdrop of a roaring baby roar, with all the extras - tears, snot, howls and noisy hiccups. Grandma pulled me into the hallway and urged me to throw away the jellyfish, but no, no. Finally, I got stabbed there and said - I'll go back to the compartment, if by the time you get to Yambol you have not thrown away the jellyfish, I will return you to Burgas.
Horror. Immediately I was silent, not that I still had to, but to lose a jellyfish all summer in Elhovo? Did she really die, I said, goodbye jellyfish, I love you very much, I will always remember you ... But throwing away my jellyfish sounded super brutal. I'll spread the dust over the field, too, I decided, and for that purpose, the open window in the wagon corridor is great. And I reached into the jar, whispered jellyfish, and reached out through a jam.
However, people, if you are throwing jellyfish out the window of a moving train, look at the neighboring windows for no people. How did I know that at that moment, however, at the age of 10+, I did not have enough life experience to know that every jellyfish flying through a train jumps 100 percent of every carnobat jam sent through the jam!
I do not remember being taken down to Karnobat, so for some reason we missed. The man was quite furious, at least because he initially refused to understand at all what jellyfish, what five leva, your train was alooo. And he was convinced he was a snot. His grandmother shouted - was it your wit, how such a small child would make such a huge nozzle that it was stinky! And he was looking at me with such suspicion, and he was writing directly on his face - those current little freaks who know what works still make a huge, smelly nozzle not stick to my forehead! Finally, he believed, grandmother showed him a jar for proof, then wrapped me in the compartment, puffed my ass, the man went down to Karnobat, and sadly I listened to Grandma's rant, but when we got to Elhovo and saw that the cat had rolled on the neighbors, the grief my quiet.
Eh, jellyfish, where are you now.




Short story by antoniya katelieva-wood The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 120 times
Written on 2019-08-03 at 18:22

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