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Christmas tale...
Dec. 25th, 2012 07:17 amI decided one day to write a story right on LiveJournal.
This lively story turned himself even happy. But the music did not play. Crashed my story at startup. Moral: write "offline." Online always covered.
So I have to re-write. Addition of heat is no longer, as in the Living ...
But I would venture to repeat.
... It was as recently as twenty years ago in Strasbourg. I invited my friends "strasburguasee" on Christmas Eve, but was warned that I'd have to tell a Christmas tale. From different European countries were guests small kids with parents from Iceland to the Urals. And the last word I got. And I remember, when I was a ten years old.
Every year on New Year's my father brought out of the woods smelling wonderful new year tree, and our close-knit family of seven "I am" - an older brother, older sister, younger brother and younger sister, father and mother, and, of course, me, dance around the tree.
And then, unfortunately, my father suddenly left for a business trip. I came home from school, and a three-year sister whines - "Where's New Year tree?". I am appeal to friend, neighbor, - "Let's go to the forest for the tree." Somehow he readily agreed. We are on the ski, and into the mountains. Ten kilometers met beauty - Spruce that is necessary for the two our families right enough. A friend quickly chose an inch, I agreed to the spine: we have more toys at home, I thought. For a long time we were working with him with a small hatchet, which I prudently seized from the house. Finally, it lay on the fluffy snow, showering us easy snowstorm. Long we have to pick it up and learn to walk on skis, and a few hundred meters we both, without saying a word, have fallen. So long seemed to us the way. Dark, and instead of houses, appeared on the horizon of any two creatures. Dogs, screaming my friend, but I somehow knew that the dogs at this time and in this weather just stayed home. But not to scare each other, said nothing about wolves, and became an ax to knock on a tree trunk. Generated noise, apparently alerted by wolves. Maybe they thought we painfully thin and inedible. And they went to the "dog-wolves" away from us further into the forest on its way.
Easily picked spruce, and we almost ran out of breath, flew home. Elder brother met with a rebuke, saying where we shlyaemsya but drank spruce half and brought us back home. Sister screamed with delight. Older brothers and sister decorate the Christmas tree toys, sweets and
tangerines, which battered us only for the New Year, and I quietly snuck under his massive spruce, and fell asleep.
And in the dream I dreamed that I celebrate New 1961...
Once I had finished the story, one of my small French listener asked - "And you did not see the bear?". "No, - I say, it can be seen from a distance I saw the ax in his hand, and, terrified, ran away."
Leonard d'Ural
Urals, Russia
Translated by Google
This lively story turned himself even happy. But the music did not play. Crashed my story at startup. Moral: write "offline." Online always covered.
So I have to re-write. Addition of heat is no longer, as in the Living ...
But I would venture to repeat.
... It was as recently as twenty years ago in Strasbourg. I invited my friends "strasburguasee" on Christmas Eve, but was warned that I'd have to tell a Christmas tale. From different European countries were guests small kids with parents from Iceland to the Urals. And the last word I got. And I remember, when I was a ten years old.
Every year on New Year's my father brought out of the woods smelling wonderful new year tree, and our close-knit family of seven "I am" - an older brother, older sister, younger brother and younger sister, father and mother, and, of course, me, dance around the tree.
And then, unfortunately, my father suddenly left for a business trip. I came home from school, and a three-year sister whines - "Where's New Year tree?". I am appeal to friend, neighbor, - "Let's go to the forest for the tree." Somehow he readily agreed. We are on the ski, and into the mountains. Ten kilometers met beauty - Spruce that is necessary for the two our families right enough. A friend quickly chose an inch, I agreed to the spine: we have more toys at home, I thought. For a long time we were working with him with a small hatchet, which I prudently seized from the house. Finally, it lay on the fluffy snow, showering us easy snowstorm. Long we have to pick it up and learn to walk on skis, and a few hundred meters we both, without saying a word, have fallen. So long seemed to us the way. Dark, and instead of houses, appeared on the horizon of any two creatures. Dogs, screaming my friend, but I somehow knew that the dogs at this time and in this weather just stayed home. But not to scare each other, said nothing about wolves, and became an ax to knock on a tree trunk. Generated noise, apparently alerted by wolves. Maybe they thought we painfully thin and inedible. And they went to the "dog-wolves" away from us further into the forest on its way.
Easily picked spruce, and we almost ran out of breath, flew home. Elder brother met with a rebuke, saying where we shlyaemsya but drank spruce half and brought us back home. Sister screamed with delight. Older brothers and sister decorate the Christmas tree toys, sweets and
tangerines, which battered us only for the New Year, and I quietly snuck under his massive spruce, and fell asleep.
And in the dream I dreamed that I celebrate New 1961...
Once I had finished the story, one of my small French listener asked - "And you did not see the bear?". "No, - I say, it can be seen from a distance I saw the ax in his hand, and, terrified, ran away."
Leonard d'Ural
Urals, Russia
Translated by Google
