Mariya Metlitskaya
Tsena i plata
Unabridged
26 minutes
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«Etot son davno perestal byt navyazchivym koshmarom. Esche odno podtverzhdenie tomu, chto chelovek ko vsemu privykaet. Prosnuvshis, ona opyat zastonala: nu zachem? Skolko mozhno, gospodi! Stolko let! No, vidimo, na eto srok davnosti ne rasprostranyalsya. Vse bylo kak vsegda: dlinnaya i uzkaya, sovsem bez mebeli komnata s doschatym nekrashenym polom. Tusklyy svet, golaya lampochka na potolke i serye tsementnye steny. Oni stoyat guskom, drug za drugom, nizko opustiv golovy. Na nih – serye, holschovye, do pola rubashki, iz-pod kotoryh vyglyadyvayut hudye i bosye nogi s ploskimi i blednymi stupnyami. Ruki zakryty rukavami rubashki. Lits ne vidno. Oni molchat – ne tyanut k ney ruki, nichego ne prosyat. A chto prosit, kogda ih lishili glavnogo – zhizni. Prosto ne pozvolili zhit. Strannye, slovno inoplanetnye, suschestva. Eti troe – absolyutno bezliki…»
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