Читать A violinist died in a god

My name is Alexander Kamnev. I gratuared from university and I don't know where to go next. My mother got lucky with her son. After that, she got me.

One spring night Innokentii Kamnev entered this world. Before he even had the idea of how the world works, he got engaged to a beautiful lady. The lady had her four strings for a long time now and was ready to sit on anyone's shoulder but not everyone could handle her. I was told so my whole life and even after Kesha disappeared. We asked for help where we needed to, and we didn't get any. To this day he's considered missing and neither me nor my mother know what happened to him.

My mother makes a good living despite the event. Every evening I see a bottle of semi-sweet or two among our food but I can't blame her. To lose a child is a heavy weight. I understand that drinking your sorrow away is a natural process.

All I knew about Kesha is that he once went through an appendicitis surgery and he obtained a scar on this stomach. My mom loved telling me about this while in a good mood caused by alcohol.

One morning I woke up again just like I did before. My mother's voice woke me up; she found something.

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This summer morning that came to our small town, the sun hurried to appear in the sky, sharing its free warmth for another time, just like a caring mother would. A round-faced beautiful lady who got married to the soil without any regrets – some sentimental poet could say so about the star if they walked upon this dusty path without any shadows.

– Sasha, get up! It's two in the afternoon! – A voice resonated in a tight apartment.

There were a few empty bottles under Czech names next to my bed. Upon the bottles there lied my dark-brown hair, looking like willow leaves; I took my time disobeying the voice that could be heard from the hallway.

I opened my eyes and got up.

– What's up mom?

– Sasha, come and see, I found this thing in the closet! – She yelled, laughing. – It seems your brother left it.

I came to the closet shelf and took a mysterious case into my hands, got to the living room, put the case onto the table, unzipped it and lifted the cap.

It's not a guitar I used to have fun with. The instrument looked majestic and it seemed to me it looked below itself where I was. Its shiny body glowed in the light.

– And what shall I do with it? – I looked at my mom.

– What-what. – My mother scratched her teeth. – Sell this useless thing.

Suddenly I got a spark in my soul.

– Mom, I can become a virtuoso just like Kesha was! We have this music school down the road, I can go there.

– What things can come to your mind… You could sell it, and buy your mother a crate of wine. – My mother sighed and waved her arm. – Alright, you can go there, – she almost sang and disappeared in the hallway.

It's been a while since I got thrilled like this. I hurried to dress up, zipped the case, combed my hair and ran off to the street.

Going through the streets, I was being eaten by doubts. What is this mysterious good future chance going to give me? Would I be able to get steady in life like my beloved brother? What is hiding in the music school? I had yet to find it all out.

Shortly after my thoughts I reached my destination. I opened a heavy door, came inside and got surprised by high pre-revolutionary ceilings. Then I paid my attention to the walls and it wasn't in vain – the walls had portraits of the great ones on them, looking down at anyone who had courage to walk under them, just like they were supposed to. I completely forgot about the door and let it go so it slammed itself, hitting the case. Right after that I heard a gentle high-pitched voice: