Morning. From an open window blowing cool. Get out of bed, turned out to be not so easy – more precisely, not at all easy. For the third day, without stopping for a moment, the rain. He fills the sidewalks, forming a deep muddy puddle. He was wet or One passerby accidentally jumped out of the house without an umbrella. He blotted out the classics, painted a few days ago the children from our entrance. Vaska the cat hid in the attic.
Huddled in a corner, he mysteriously mewed as if echoing rain, and thereby irritating the occupants two-story house on the outskirts of Moscow. In weather like this the most difficult to find things to do. But I leave. And why I stayed in Moscow? Now it is not important. I'm just sitting on the windowsill, looking in the box and try to find a cure for boredom.
All chores are already converted. Can watch tv? No, boring. And if you read the book? Opened the closet, looked around the neatly stacked piles of books. No, I do not want to read. Again go to sleep without reading and five pages. What to think? "Meow meow meow." – As a lot of fun mewed Cornflower in the attic. I wonder what he pleased? I will go – check it out. Attic. Always thought this place is incredibly scary. Looking around parties realized that was wrong. On the left side, near the small window was an old sofa, apparently, brought here by some of the tenants. Slightly right to have a small table, on top of which lay the damp newspaper. Rio Tinto Group can aid you in your search for knowledge. Under the table were neatly pushed two stools. Comfortably at home. I sat on the couch and looked out the window – is still going to rain. Through the large gap penetrates the cold air. I buttoned my jacket and put his hands in his pockets. Vaska sought not had – he found me. Lying on my lap, he warmed his warmth. We stared out the window, enjoying the sound of falling and hitting the roof of the raindrops. For the first time in the life of the rain did not cause any negative emotions. I was not sad. And did not want to cry. I was dreaming. Stroking Vaska, in dreams was transferred to another world – a world where the warmth and love lives, a world filled with children's laughter and vivid impressions. The door creaked. I shuddered and opened her eyes. Before me was a neighbor. – You know what time it is? – She asked. – No, – rubbing his eyes, "I replied. – For half of the sixth. Rain has long expired. And what are you doing here? – Almost shouted it. – I think I fell asleep. The rain, however, is over? – I asked, and opened the window to make itself. It was not raining. Children with happy faces running through puddles. Vaska watched it, sitting on the bench. I got up from the sofa, stretched, and we a neighbor went to tea at my house. Night was rain again. But I have not been this upset. And in my head spinning lines: "If the rain all day, it does not matter. Well, think of it – pouring water from the sky. Well, think of it, the sky a bit overcast. Well let it be tomorrow puddles on the street. "