What is the meaning of life?

What is the meaning of life?

Aunt Ada worked as a clerk in the grocery store, what is lurking in the middle of a big yard — square, outlined by Khrushchev-a five-story building. The window of her apartment right on the native store, and in the morning, going to work, aunt Ada surveyed their possession the master’s eye, noting the lazily pull-up movers and playfully running in high heels of girls from the Department of dried fruit.

From her tiny peephole, hidden in the plump cheeks, lined with purple veins, could not hide anything, even I felt that one of the movers tried to hide in the pocket of the dusty jackets. Aunt Ada knew everything.

Aunt Ada loved the bright colorful dresses and summer resembled a round flower bed, when rolled across the courtyard from the entrance to the store. In the fall she wore all grey: grey jacket, grey boots, a grey knitted woolly hat. Well, in the winter of aunt Ada was pleased surrounding the piercing cornflower blue coat from the moth-eaten silver Fox.

All her life she lived in this house, as did neighbors, have always worked in a small bosniaca. No one remembered her husband, a long time ago crashed on a motorcycle.

— I was very young, sometimes remembered aunt Ada. And even beautiful!

She coyly smiled thickly painted thin lips, and his eyes still went deeper in the cheeks. The neighbors nodded, but didn’t believe. Young and beautiful Ada? Unthinkable! Guy, what are you telling us here! Here you live recently, how would you know. When Ada was young… Tell me more — when running dinosaurs! The guy can, you in Santa Claus believe?

Aunt Ada lived alone. Sometimes in her apartment was going, “vegetable”, the company that loudly walked almost until morning. Neighbors unhappy frowned, but his opinion was kept to myself, aunt Ada, some became very sharp.

One square yard was startled by a wild cry. Young mother talking on the benches near the swings and slides, immediately snapped up the kids and huddled together. From the driveway of the basement popped up the plumbing already well warmed on the occasion of a Sunny day.

From the vegetable shop was rushing one of the movers, uttering the same shriek that frightened everyone. Over his head floated a hatchet in my pocket dusty jackets tragically sobbed chekushku. Before porter ran a huge rat. She saved his life.

Among all these cries were the only island of inviolability: aunt Ada. She just came back after lunch (boiled potatoes with herring and onion), and rat story caught her halfway to boshnjaku. Aunt Ada stood still with open mouth: a rat in the store was incredible!

While aunt Ada was thinking, the rat jumped into her arms and rushed to the trampled shoes with socks polyglyme and Flirty metal buckles. The buckle jingled. Aunt Ada came out of the thought and leaned over the rat, holding out his hand. The rat fell in the outstretched palm, pressed to her hand, hugging her legs. Aunt Ada sighed and straightened up. Rat, eyes closed, sat on her palm. Porter with the ax was already there.

— One hundred-Yat! sharply said aunt Ada, and the porter stood on one leg with the axe above his head. You miserable drunk, two legs become the axe down!

The loader obediently executed the command. His face was still red, and his eyes blazed with the thrill of the chase, but picked up the folds of the cheeks blossomed — it was clear that it was all over.

— Mine! said aunt Ada, pointing to a rat, fell to the spacious chest tightened colourful silks.

She turned around and stomped back to the entrance. From a bevy of young mothers heard the hysterical cries.

— She to her home she suffered? — noisy mothers. One, the decisive, turned to the plumbers: — Men do something! There are children here! Rats contagious! They spread the plague!

Plumbers have pretended to hear nothing. Was hunting to get involved! And anyway, there’s this rat as the ran you to be healthy, so don’t run plague!

The next day in Bosniak the car came sanitation. Aunt Ada with a rat on her hands and watched the bustle from the kitchen window. Both were smiling.

The rat lived for two years. Aunt Ada was solemnly buried her in the flower bed under her window, and longed. After the death of the rats were not consoling her no favorite Bosniak or friendly company. She began to feed stray cats. During the lunch break to boshnjaku moved up a whole pack and ceremoniously took their seats around the loading and unloading of the frame. Aunt Ada cooked them chicken legs and heads, which were mined in the nearby grocery store in exchange for vegetable deficiencies.

Every morning aunt Ada came out of the door with a bucket of cat stew. But one day not out by night she was taken away by ambulance. The cats were waiting for aunt Ada. But from the hospital she returned to their apartment only for one day and one night, and then solemnly floated in a bright red (she always loved bright) coffin with curved brass handles.

Cats accompanied aunt Ada. They were sitting along the path of the funeral procession, silently looking at heads floating above the coffin. After the bus with aunt Ada went to the cemetery, the cats silently dispersed.

More about the grocery store not seen one cat, though, and saleswomen, and movers tried to lure. You might get some striped portage pass by about their business, but did not turn his head to the side bosniaca. Talk that he has become unprofitable, it will be demolished, and to build a supermarket. Indeed, who needs a little bosnak if there is no aunt Ada?

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