TURMOIL

who forced you against your will to go to the registry office?” Malika, stretching in her chair, sighed deeply and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning forward with her whole body. “Sur, this is a long and, moreover, nauseatingly boring conversation. It is not interesting to anyone, and first and foremost, to me. Sometimes I want to forget about my whole life. If I had such strength in my hands, I would throw everything that I have lived out of my head and live in anticipation of the next happy day. All this is such nonsense, my husband was a “composer”, weak-willed men like him are no better than that tyrant Sargel, who killed his wife with his animalistic jealousy, tormenting me like rain slowly chiselling down a stone! Try to look at all this a little deeper. Millions of years have passed since life arose on earth. Of the life that follows after us, we know nothing. We came into this life with consciousness, thought, speech, the ability to understand sounds and colours, grief, joy. We come for a short time. We are in a hurry; we have a very short existence. So why did we even show up? In order to, having married a “composer”, divorce him in three months? In order to distribute the deficit to men who, instead of masculine honour have a woman’s desire to fill up the refrigerator? Or in order to become the wife of that half-wit Sargel?” She said the last words with anguish. “What! for this I was given life?!” “Lika, but do you have any goal? Any dreams?” “—I don’t know, Sur… It’s hard to put everything into one word. Until the last minute, I was waiting for some wonderful changes, new twists and turns. And then I got tired of waiting, all my dreams dried up, like grass on stones. Everything is clear, everything is simple. No secrets, no mysteries. In the morning I go to work, an hour break, dinner, sleep… This is how everything will go from day to day, for the rest of my life…!” “Lika,” exclaimed Bagila, “you should have become a writer or a traveller. You shouldn’t have locked yourself in the store.” Malika suddenly laughed with a small chuckle and pressed Bagila’s beautiful nose with her fingers. “Your thoughts have become sharpened! What oth- er questions do you have?” “But you didn’t

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