Самые короткие и трогательные рассказы в мире - Джейн Орвис, Лариса Керкленд

For sale: baby shoes, never worn

Ernest Miller Hemingway

Продаются детские ботиночки. Неношенные.

Эрнест Хемингуэй

Ever since Rita was brutally murdered, Carter is sitting at the window.

No TV, reading, correspondence. His life — what you see through the curtains.

He does not care who brings the food, pay the bills, he does not leave the room.

His life — running through the athletes, the change of seasons, the cars, the ghost of Rita.

Carter realizes that the padded cell has no windows.[1]

Starry Night. The right time. Candlelight dinner. Cozy Italian restaurant. Little black dress. Gorgeous hair, bright eyes, silvery laughter. Together for two years. Wonderful time! True love, best friend, no one else. Champagne! Offers his hand and heart. On one knee. People are watching? Well, let them! Beautiful diamond ring. Blush on the cheeks, a charming smile.

Like, no?! [2]

Once that happened, I rushed home to tell his wife the sad news. But it seems to me absolutely not listening. She did not notice me. She looked right through me, and poured himself a drink. Turn on the TV.

At this point, the phone rang. She came over and picked it up.

I saw her wrinkled face. She wept bitterly.[3]

Blankets that he recently gave to a charity, comfortably embraced his shoulders, and shoes, which he now found in a trash can, absolutely shook.

Street lights so nicely warmed soul after all this darkness a cooling…

bending bench in the park seemed so familiar to his overworked old back.

«Thank you, God, — he thought — life is just amazing!» [4]

Two boys stood and watched as Satan slowly goes away. Brilliance of his hypnotic eyes still nebula their heads.

— Look what he wanted from you?

— My soul. And from you?

— Coins for a pay phone. He urgently needed to call.

— Want go get something to eat?

— I want to, but now I have no money.

— Okay. I have a lot. [5]

I was awakened by severe pain in the body. I opened my eyes and saw a nurse standing by my bed.

— Mr. Fudzhima, — she said — you are lucky, you managed to survive the bombing of Hiroshima two days ago. But now you're in the hospital, you do not in danger.

Just live with weakness, I asked:

— Where am I?

— In Nagasaki, — she said. [6]

Was only one way, because our lives are intertwined in a very tangled knot of anger and pleasure, to solve all something else. Entrust lot eagle — and we will get married, tails — and we part forever.