:. Издателство LiterNet  Електронни книги: Условия за публикуване
:. Електронно списание LiterNet  Електронно списание: Условия за публикуване
:. Електронно списание БЕЛ
:. Културни новини   Kултурни новини: условия за публикуване  Новини за култура: RSS абонамент!  Новини за култура във Facebook!  Новини за култура в Туитър
:. По дати : Март  Издателство & списание LiterNet - абонамент за нови публикации  Нови публикации на LiterNet във Facebook! Нови публикации на LiterNet в Twitter!
:. Електронни книги
:. Раздели / Рубрики
:. Автори
:. Критика за авторите
:. Книжен пазар  Книжарница за стари книги Книжен пазар: нови книги  Стари и антикварни книги от Книжен пазар във Facebook  Нови публикации на Книжен пазар в Twitter!
:. Книгосвят: сравни цени  Сравни цени с Книгосвят във Facebook! Книгосвят - сравни цени на книги
:. Каталог за култура
:. Артзона
:. Писмена реч
За нас
:. Всичко за LiterNet
Настройки: Разшири Стесни | Уголеми Умали | Потъмни | Стандартни


Irena Radeva


'Burn in hell, you pestilence! Never learned the right time to do a thing, damn you. Always up to me to watch after you, to clean up your mess. Don't even ask me if I have money, do you? Do you know whom to beg for help? People are not crazy enough to give money to an old woman, you know. Of course not - they know I'll die sooner than repay them. But you don't care, you are laying down here, where is warm and comfy, and just wait for me to take care of everything. Anybody, but you, to deal with it! Tell me, old fart, why me? Why me, since I was ugly, I was only a simpleton... I was stupid, right? You won't even trust me buy firewood. But now? Who else, but me! Still on my back and you think it is funny! Funny, eh? Waiting for this moment so long, eh? Waiting, I know... To take revenge on me, just watching how I suffer. That's what you want, right? Son of hell! That's why you fix your cold eyes on me! Not to miss anything! Not to miss even a crumb of my misery!

Watch me, demon, watch! But you are not going to watch me long! When I die, I'll watch you and laugh at you from the grave! I know you well, I know even your wisdom teeth! Think you will scare me? Think I'll be crushed down, will bend, because you left me? You pestilence, nobody will walk over me again! Nobody! You did it so far, but no more! I swear in my old bones! Your days are over! Over! That's it!



Eeeeh, Petko! Pete, darling! My strength! My sunshine! Get up, Petko, get up to see my suffering! To see my shame. What I said, I said it only because of anger. You know. Let it go and get up! Just stand up... And we will be back together again... like before... '

She stopped and got up to arrange the covers. Nothing to be sloppy, untidy, to shame her in front of the other people. They would start arriving from early morning on. Like ants they would run to her house. Would want to eat and drink. And all that - on her shoulders, to get ready, to serve them! But the pestilence just lays there, on the bed, stiff and cold, waiting for her to ready everything! Never learned the right time to do anything, damn you! Doesn't even care if there is anybody to help me! Just laughing...

Oooh, damn you, why doesn't she choke on her tears!



© Irena Radeva
© Vesselin Vesselinov, Craig Hasbrouck - translated from bulgarian
© E-magazine LiterNet, 01.09.2015, № 9 (190)