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The second chapter of village stories



... After the absurd death of the tractor driver Vanya in the village, no significant events occurred. The village was bored and on the sly continued to collapse itself.

The morning's silence was blown up by the roar of a rooster, who for some reason was still alive! Or because of his old age, he was not good for chicken soup, or the human hand had not yet reached him. In any case, this proud country bird fulfilled its duty as a morning alarm for the remaining population in this wilderness. Masha, a village girl who was not quite old yet, but not young with difficulty opening her eyes, was lonely in her bed and tried deliberately to go on a new day-it was necessary to milk the only wet nurse Manka. In bed lay untouched by time and men Mashkin's body, warmed down duvet and night dreams, in which she once again gave herself to the tractor driver Vanya. "Not destined," thought Masha, remembering that Vanya had died at last from the burning vodka.

"Hope dies last" - came to mind Masha unfamiliar phrase.

Vanya the tractor driver was the last of the peasants in this village, who could not tear himself away from the addiction and did not reach for the rest of the peasants to the city for work. Throwing aside the bitter erotic memories, Masha jumped up, jumped in galoshes and famously, throwing a quilted jacket on her shoulders, rushed to the courtyard where Manka, filled with milk, was mumbling.

"Someone pulls her by her tits," thought Masha, going out into the yard, "Though the cattle are lucky in this."

The sun was just rising from the horizon, making its way to the people with its first rays. Masha stopped and set her face first, and it seemed to her, tender rays. Every morning Masha did this, and at that time it seemed to her that somewhere beyond the horizon was the very best, the most important thing in life. There is happiness and love, there are men who love women and do not drink salted vodka. She was warming her face in these rays and was glad that she could at least touch a little the brilliance and warmth of the happiness that was there beyond the horizon. How little a man needs, how little a simple village woman needs - a little warm ray of sun, connecting the thread between dream and reality! The cow Manka gave a voice, she was already accustomed to the fact that the mistress, screwing up her eyes and stretching her mouth in a smile, again warms herself in the rays of the rising sun.

"Dreams" - grinning, the cow thought, and with her mumbling returned Masha to the ground.

Sighing, but a little happier, Masha went to the cow, habitually picking up a pail and a bucket of water. The cow Manka habitually stood and waited for the mistress. The udder was full of milk! Still, so much grass in the district was not from ancient times. Since the village began to die, the fields were overgrown with herbs-the choice for Manka was huge, the menu for the cow was full of motley grass! Masha habitually sat down near the cow on a small bench. She washed her udder and, wiping it dry, began to do the massage, realizing that today there will be a lot of milk again. The cow froze in Mashka's familiar hands, waiting for relief from such a heavy burden ... Masha massaged the udders, the nipples, from which the white fragrant morning milk was just splashing. Manka cow calmed down, giving himself up to the strong and affectionate hands of Masha ...

"Something for a long time today the massage lasts" - the cow thought and turned to Masha.

And she, reflecting, did massage and her hands stayed longer and longer on the nipples of the cow. Massaging and holding on her nipples, Masha suddenly remembered the tractor driver Vanya and his ridiculous death, remembered how her heart froze when Vanya started his tractor and flew lavishly through the village in search of another portion of salted vodka.

"That's how he worked on the field" - with warmth in his heart, Masha thought, squeezing the nipple of her cow's udder in her palm, "Mastery, you will not spend it on him!"

And from these memories, Mashkin's hands began to be very kindly, somehow tenderly and tenderly massaging cow's nipples, and in the eyes of a strange furious light appeared! Cow Manka, feeling that the massage somehow changed the meaning together with Mashkin's thoughts, looked back at her ...

"Oh, she would have a good man!" The cow thought, "again she remembered Vanka ...". Manka's cow looked sad and understanding with Masha. Slightly kicking the podnik and bringing Masha to consciousness, Manka started milking!

"How short is life," thought Masha, "like this trickle of cow's milk! While pulling at the nipple, it strikes with a trickle in a sonorous podoynik! And you will stop and silence ... only the smell of fresh milk, as a memory of what happened ... or it could be ... ".

"Poor Masha ..." thought the cow, "I lost Vanya without knowing him with love ..." And the cow Manka thought: "She will someday rip off her nipples with her memories ...", and began milking herself, trying to give more quickly all milk.

Finished milking the cow, Masha thought- "Strange thing-fate ..." - and why are these two names so consonant-Masha and Manya ??? ... but this is another story.


Early in the morning, the old village alarm clock roared with his nasty scream. "I can not sleep in the old way," thought Manka, "and he aspires to please the soup!"

"Now she will wake Mashka, she will jump up, as usual, not slept because of her erotic fantasies about the late Vanka-tractor driver, as always, do not stand your feet ..." The doors of the hut opened and, in the first sunshine of the sunrise, Mashka appeared, as usual in his galoshes on his bare feet and a jacket on his shoulders.

"Mistress" - grinned cow Manka. "With a quilted jacket and never parted! Memory ... "- already with respect flashed in the head of horned cattle.

The telegrake was left from Vanya's tractor driver. Once Masha somehow managed to lure him to visit him, trying to lure everyone with the same notorious burning vodka that Vanya loved more than himself. But, for the only time, Vanya could only reach Mashka's gate and fall down in a dead-drunk dream. He drank too much vodka for bravery, he did not calculate it. And only the quilted jacket somehow miraculously got behind the gate to the Mashin yard, and so it stayed, keeping the smell of Vankin-a mixture of tractor diesel fuel, the fumes of burning vodka and something else romantic, reminiscent of the smell of not plowed fields long ago! The cow Manka saw her mistress framing her face with the first rays of the sun, a thought flashed across her sleepy face and she picked up a pail and a bucket of water and rushed to the heavy udder full of morning milk. Something in the face of Masha did not like the cow, alerted. Some incomprehensible slightly playful expression was when she reached for the udder and began to massage him.

"Is not it about Vanka?" Thought the cow. "Precisely!" - flashed in the horned head, when Masha reached the nipples.

"From a bitch, in the morning it hovers from the thoughts of vulgar" - thought the cow Manka. "Vanka died, and no one was Masha for her tits to tug, the fire is burning in the morning itself !!!", the cow rushed with sadness and sympathy in her heart.

And the cow of Manka understood that the mistress was not thinking about the nipple now, massaging them with her strong but very delicate hands that she did not have milk in her head ... Manka realized that the landlady had finally woken up and decided- "It's time!" The pod came flashing and returned Masha to the ground. Mashka a little started up, looked at the cow and remembered what was sitting next to her ... Milk ringing with a stream poured into the pail and the smelling smell of fresh milk began to fill the surrounding air!

"How short and quick life" - the cow thought- "How these trickles of milk, which break out of the nipples! And all this is in the hands of my mistress, Masha. As the sound of a pod from the beating streams of milk! But after all, it will end soon ... "- the cow thought sadly, looking as Mashka massaging extorts her udder ...

"Once it all ends," thought the cow Manka, feeling the udders begin to emptying ...
"A strange thing, fate," thought the cow, when Masha finished the milking and went into the house. Looking after her, the cow thought about the strange echoes of the two names-Masha and Manya ...


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