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Fairy tales of the Viennese wood

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suggests that a bench erected mad widow, determined to perpetuate this way the memory of his dead wife. Tom believed that his wife was right under the bench and buried.Adrian was also convinced that it is a proper name prostonaprosto bench, and by their faith not to retreat. Gladys had seen everything: the upper, middle and lower playgrounds, theaters, old classroom, library, chapel, dining and art schools. Sitting on her person feels a general look around the battlefield.The day was cold, and while the three of them went up to the cemetery, mouths and nostrils pulled out their parkas. - Alas, forgetting the terrible rock, sports rascals, - said Adrian. - Living and young playing hide and seek among the gravestones Frigid and the dead. Tom Adrian sat down, waiting for the Spink departed Trotter.- The story of my mother's not very nice - Adrian started when Trotter plopped down next to them - but I'll tell it to you, if you promise to keep it a secret. She is known to only one dad Tickford. His father told him everything when I came here. Breathless Trotter nodded. - I did not tell a soul, Healy. Fair.Adrian looked at Tom, who also nodded gravely. - Well, well, - said Adrian. - One night about three years ago ... in fact, almost exactly three years ago ... I was sitting at home and watching TV. I remember, showed "a man named Iron Side."My father is a professor of biochemistry, is working at Bristol University and is often delayed until late. That night my mother was in the kitchen, deadened vodka straight from the tea cup. At ten, she slammed a cup on the floor and screamed so that I could hear her in the living room. Trotter shifted awkwardly. - Listen, - he said. - You're not obliged to tell us about it.- Netnet, I myself want. It is, as I said, drinking from the afternoon and suddenly howled: "Ten hours! Ten fucking hours! Why is not he home? Why, in the name of the Lord, he is not home?" That sort of thing. I looked into the kitchen and saw her swollen face drenched with tears and mascara ispyatnannye cheeks, trembling lips, and I remember thinking:"She looks like a Chilly Winters, but only mediocre." I do not know why I came up with was this idea, but come. I turned to the telly - could not see her like this - and said, "It works, Mom. You know it works." "Work? - She shrieked, splash my face with bad breath. - Works! That's great!Inserts Mande this lab, that's what he does. Suchara. I saw her ... stupid stupid white coat and white teeth. Little twigs slut \ "Tom and Trotter could not believe his ears, stared at Adrian shouted these words, but his eyes were closed, he seemed to have forgotten, and the presence of friends.

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- Shrieking she knew how my mom. I thought it was a cry of such force will break her voice, but in reality sounded cracked my own. "You'd better lay in bed, Mom," - I said. "In bed! That he is now lying in the bed Bitch".Mom giggled and reached for a bottle of vodka vyhlebala residues, so burning a trickle flowed, mingling with tears on the folds of her fleshy face.