* ЧАСТЬ II *
Блокнот из Акапулько.
В В В В В В В В В В В В В В В В В В В В В В В
Последний международный конфликт завершился. Начался поиск вдохновения. Дышать стало легче. Непринужденность сопутствовала прогулкам на улице, общению в общественных местах. Труд повышался в цене. Прекратились репрессии. Дети начинали играть друг с другом без военных игрушек, им странными казались иногда еще попадавшиеся в магазинах антиквариата ружья и пистолеты, никто из них не понимал слов "застрелить, взорвать". На уроках истории дети часто отвлекались и занимались чем-то другим, многие рисовали или что-то записывали в свои маленькие блокнотики, а потом читали друг другу на переменах. В одном из них, потерянном в Акапулько и найденном сыном Климентины по прошествию многих лет после рождения, было написано следующее:
Art was invisible, the planets got unseen. After the smashes of two universes nothing resembled pure idea of a definite dignity. They had been eating their gypsy food and drinking their gypsy wine.
The girls around started to feel excited as they could dance on the tables and show to visitors their almost naked bodies, legs and asses, almost naked breasts. Some guys did cry in the hall and evoked barmen and got drunker more and more. The stories told in the nights reflected their most hidden and unknown desires where they had been taught to leave everything behind and they did. The place looked so as if it was burnt and destroyed completely by a child who wished to stay pure. There everyone who remembered the name of Clementine decided to meet in the alley of grey cactuses. Poor relative also planned to be there. Though he just had such a joke. He used to wear glasses and be acquainted with all those who pretended to be elite artists. However he had never been bisexual. He only laughed at everybody who had lovers of different sex. He had no real sex in life as he had a wrong wife or had no wife. It is amazing how lifeless they are!!!!!!! EVERYBODY
EVERYONE
ALL OF THEM
WHERE SHOULD WE KILL THEM?
WHEN?
Clementine's son got astonished reading all that. He started stuttering. Clementine got upset. But what could she do? Her son had to become a brilliant painter. Reading that old note-book Painter got freaked off in the class-rooms and his comrades' companies. He wanted to reanimate that incredible language he sank in. He continued reading:
Мой ангел, как невыносимо печальными становятся мои дни без тебя. Неузнаваем на улицах твоими глазами, ищущими мои следы.
