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Сторінка автора - Anastasia

Проза     →     Anastasia
Decision of living
Decision of living
Walking in the streets Mr. Jones was spending his time. And by the end of the day he has come to the river bank…
Then he decided to drop in the laboratory, where he worked. He liked his business, it was his life. Having stayed at that place he was going to come back home after a time, but for some reason stopped at the window, looking through it: a girl sitting on the bench was really sad, she was apathetic indeed. Man went out but didn’t go to stop, but to that bench, he had recollected the words said by one doctor
- I’m so sorry but your test … is affirmative. I can just write out a prescription for making your life easier.

- Is it not a fine journey, our life … You fall and rise again and if you think you can’t rise having fallen too deep just let me try to help you, take a hand I will give you.

Next day he was working especially hard till it was long past midnight, next day and next – it was a month of working without fine result. For him it was especially hard - not the manual working, but the unceasing voice of his heart, crying of his soul. And she lived just because he insisted: he tried to bring her to rainbow, but she preferred staying in eternal rain. One day when he left his laboratory she was sitting on the bench waiting for him.

- What’s up to you? Is something wrong? Why are you here at so late time?
- I’m waiting for you to ask about the only one thing. Leave me, just let me go and don’t suffer about the stupid useless person left by everybody.
- What are you saying? Don’t, please, my dear, don’t think you are trouble for me. You are a beautiful flower, maybe on the stone, but blossoming really marvelously. I will leave you, just if I’m dead.
- Don’t say… You understand I am quite sick… We will not live. You will, but not me. So, please, leave me now. It will be better… I will go and not be back. No poison to you any longer…
- I will not leave you, will not let you go…

“ … Monic Cornwell died of the hemorrhage, she was AIDS patient. Dreadful thing: she prepared a holiday pie for beloved man, doctor, who used to make everything he could for her, but something’s hurt her…” – told the newspaper.
And it was another article on the first leave:
“ … Yesterday was a birthday of Dr. Jones and he has made a great present not just for himself, but for the millions of people. Dr. Jones is a greatest man of our century. The AIDS medicine has been created by him…”

Such a like destiny people can have. Dr. Jones has cured his patient one day later than his colleague has lost own one.

- My dear Andrew, Now I want to answer to your first question. Our great journey is more than simply fine, it’s brilliant. My stop is not going on any longer, because you’ve let me continue my way. Thank you, my dear angel!

Thus Andrew and Mary walked along a river bank. Then it already couldn’t be a great horror about somebody’s affirmative AIDS test. And there couldn’t be a doctor, who could tell as terrible words as Mary once heard.

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Дата надходження 17-05-2008
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