Vyacheslav Prakh
Muzhchina, kotoromu zakhotelos' ...
Unabridged
3 hours 31 minutes
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«Ya razveden, no ya do sih por veryu v lyubov'...» — s etih strok nachinaetsya kniga‑otkrovenie Vyacheslava Praha o tom, o chem zachastuyu ne prinyato govorit' vsluh. «Mne holodno, ya hochu sogret'sya, pochemu my ne mozhem sogret' drug druga? Pochemu my ne mozhem lyubit' drug druga ili hotya by otvyazat'sya, proshchat' i zhit' v mire? Ya ne umeyu i ne zhelayu lyubit' tebya tak, kak etogo hochesh' ty, i u nas eto vzaimno. Otpusti menya! Net? No pochemu? My — razbitye pticy, padayushchie vverh; razvod — eto gore zamerzshih tel i dush. Ya uhozhu, chtoby spasti sebya, tebya i detey». Avtor sozdal pryamolineynuyu, mestami zhestkuyu knigu o tom, kak dvoe vzroslyh lyudey zamerzli, buduchi vmeste. No pomnite: teplo est' i ono zhdet, chtoby otogret' holodnye dushi.
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