Michael Smelyanskiy. Letter to a friend on the theme of rain.

This letter I whispered autumn. I just wrote down her words had to understand, listening to sad prayer rain. It's throwing the Spirit, driven into the trap of life, from which there is no escape, and there is only the end of Exodus ...
This letter to himself, to insist on Bittersweet memories - thanks to all who remember loved and love ...
And yet - the message of those who will read to the end of these lines, breaking through thickets of autumn glamor and will be able to experience, as I - spiritual joy and delight, recalling already something of their own - friends, relatives and irrevocable ...

Author.


And really - it was very clear: the actors faithfully played their role and the audience appreciated the game with dignity. So, hello, Cheshi as trams, which means that - until we meet again, that is - to the new scenes, which were prepared immediately, without any change of scenery and rehearsals and shows often without any intermission. Fresh actors to get used to the course proposed role, showing miracles of transformation and improvisation.
- Nura, honey, your Borka again with brazen muzzle me in the shower looked. Tell him that the next time I will show him such that he would be wrong. More pisyulka not grown, but there too. So even if stood quietly, and then, like a pig near the trough - and sniffs champs like I do not hear. Just look how much he has already nakovyryat holes, lost quite a shame.
The response replica, of course, was in the same spirit:
- What are you can, show bedraggled whore? There's already nothing to show - all and sundry have seen and still spit. And you, Boris, in fact, a fool, found on whom to watch! Especially before dinner. You and so poor appetite. You want to be sick?
And away we go ... I do not know, do you remember or not, but one thing is the idea I still can not recall without laughter.

Michael Smelyanskiy. Letter to a friend on the theme of rain.