Author Natalia Zagrebina-Wirth
translated by Igor Step
What is it here?
Coats, five ones.
A turquoise slim-waisted one with flared bottom.
A gray one, a raspberry-red one with ruffles. A dark blue one...
Skirts. With a broad waistband and a bow. The one with a flowy bottom when walking.
Rings. Five gold ones and five silver ones. With gemstones. False ones.
But they sparkle well. Especially now at sunset.
What’s in it?
Half-turned. The hair is streaming in the breeze. Young. With her arms sideways.
And down there the grass is waving. The arms... are so much more precious than the rings. Live young arms. And blood is running and running in the veins.
A buffet, a commode, various stuff. Perhaps a ton or about it.
The mirror. It remembers her young. The photographs are a different matter. They are as if frozen. As if from another dimension. But the mirror... There’s nothing in it, no reflections. But they used to be there not so long ago.
And it’s live, especially when it reflects the rays of the setting sun...
Eight. Not many.
Dreamed of buying a coat, a turquoise slim-waisted one. And a raspberry-red one with ruffles.
Going to the sea. And some other rubbish.
And some other rubbish...
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