Holder Volcano

Member of the Uzbek Union of Writers

Stop the fratricidal war in Ukraine!

I have always respected, respect and will respect the Russian people, who gave the world outstanding scientists, poets, writers, musicians, actors, such as Pushkin, Dostoevsky, Lermontov, Tolstoy, Turgenev, Chekhov, Khlebnikov, Yesenin, Mayakovsky, Mandelstam, Pasternak, Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninov, Tarkovsky, Danelia, Nikulin, Vitsin, Margunov, Mironov, Khazanov, Ryazanov, Frendlich, Myagkov, Akhedzhakova, Pugacheva and many others.
But I have also criticized, critisize and will  criticize any war where innocent people, helpless old people, women and children die. I have fought and will fight in my political articles, in my literary works against the instigators of war with imperial ambitions, who create confrontations in a world where people are dying, infrastructure is being destroyed and cities are turning into ruins.
Today in Ukraine there is not a special operation, but a real blood war, where tens of thousands of young soldiers have already died. Innocent children who have no relation to confrontations are dying. Ukrainians are proudly, heroically and courageously fighting for the freedom of their people, for democracy, for the sovereignty and territorial integrity of their country. It's hard for them today, but everything that begins in this world is bound to end someday. This is the unwritten law of Mother Nature.
I am one hundred percent sure that Ukraine will develop at an unheard-of pace immediately after the war and will join the EU and NATO without any obstacles, turning into one of the most powerful countries not only in Europe, but throughout the world.

10:23 p.m. Canada, Ontario.




Holder Volcano

Member of the Uzbek Union of Writers

Apricot grove


I believe you've never read a story like this. I recommend reading it. It's very interesting, an exciting story. It is also easy to read.

It is said that friends are proven as real friends in difficult times. So I decided to visit my former boss, who got sick.
When he saw me, he wanted to get up, but I stopped him in time:
- No, no, sit down, sit down, Sotkin Sattarovich.
I greeted him and asked about his health.
- Thank you for coming, Bazarkul Baltabayevich. I got sick," said the boss, Comrade Salafanov Sotkin Sattarovich, wheezing and moaning.
- Don't worry so much, Sotkin Sattarovich. Everything will be alright. Man is made of clay, not iron. That is, he can sometimes get sick. Illness is like a guest, it comes and goes, I said to him.
Thank you. Bazarkul Baltabayevich. I just wanted to tell you a secret before I left this world," Sotkin Sattarovich said.
Then he continued:
- The fact is that I live in two phases, waking and dreaming. One day I dreamed of beautiful valleys, large rivers that originate from emerald mountain peaks. The clear waters of these rivers shone in the sun like a mirror among the spruce forests and green meadows, where a sea of white daisies and blue-eyed cornflowers waved in the wind like a wave. Walking through a meadow waist-deep in tall grass, I waded through shallow rivers, centuries-old coniferous forests where woodpeckers crackle and stopped at the foot of mountain peaks. Powerful streams of water bubbled under the high granite rocks. A lone eagle soared in the sky, shouting majestically, its beak wide open. I crossed the suspension bridge. On the other side of the bridge, the apricot grove was rustling in the wind. Ripe yellow apricots with a red-pink tint sparkled in the sunlight. There I met an old man with a white beard, a white turban on his head and white clothes. We said hello. Then the old man said: - Taste, my son, a ripe apricot. If you like it, take it and bring it home to the children.
I thanked him, picked some ripe apricots, then rinsed them in the spring water and ate.
The apricot was as sweet as the honey of wild bees. I collected some dried apricots into his worn skull-cap and saying goodbye to the old man, came back through pine forests, through the fir woods, passing the shallow waters of rivers, rippling and sparkling like silver in the sun among the meadows, where wild flowers grew and bloomed, over which larks sang, bursting trills. Suddenly, from the direction of the spruce forest, red army horsemen appeared with military hats "budenovka" on their heads. They were armed with rifles and sabers. When the red Commissar saw me, he shouted:
-Here he is, one of the warriors of basmachi comanders Ibragimbek Lakai! I order it on behalf of the revkom! Kill, comrades of the red army, this worst enemy of the proletariat! Forward to the victory of communism under the red banner of the workers and peasants! Long live the world revolution, the hammer and sickle, and the leader of the proletariat, comrade Lenin! Down with the bourgeoisie and the minions of world imperialism! Uraaaaaa! With these words, he, sitting on the saddle of his horse, blew a bugle, as if inspiring the Komsomol members to the feat.
Waving their sabres left and right, firing rifles with long bayonets, inspired red army soldiers with battle cries of " Hurrah! " they sent their horses in my direction. I clutched my skullcap to my chest so as not to drop the apricots, and ran across the meadow as fast as I could. Firing their rifles, a squad of Komsomol members in a greatcoat and with military hat "budenovka" on their heads, all approached.
Bullets whizzed past me. One of the bullets pierced through the hem of my cotton chopan coat. I ran no matter what and I managed finally to escape in the midst of the forest.
The red army soldiers stopped at the cordon, as it was impossible to ride in the forest. They left their horses and began to run after me.
I kept running, gasping and stumbling. Suddenly the ground gave out from under my feet, and I rolled down the slope and went down like a broken wheel of an old creaking cart. I stopped by a girl who was rinsing her clothes in the river.
From fright, she first screamed in horror and jumped back. When I got up and started asking for forgiveness, she came to her senses and started hitting me with a wet sheet. I told her:
Stop! What are you doing, Mademoiselle? I didn't mean to! I am an alien from a world called "Reality". I'm being chased by a gang of communists!
At my words, she stopped and looked at me in surprise. I say to her,
- What are you standing for, Madame?" Hide me quickly. Otherwise, these red bandits will come, catch and shoot me without trial, and then cut off your head with a saber, accusing you of aiding a particularly dangerous kulak, harmful to the bourgeois, that is, me.
Just at this time, the voices of the Reds were beginning to be heard on the top and shots were being fired. They were shouting:
He couldn't have gone far, comrade Commissar! Basmach is here somewhere! - said one pot-bellied red army man with a hat on his head. - Maybe he went down! Did this bastard get away?!
After that, the girl grabbed me by the hand as if I were a small child and led me into a dense thicket.
We fled the scene. A mounted detachment of red army soldiers went in the other direction in search of me. Then I sincerely thanked my savior for helping me in a difficult moment. She was so beautiful that I fell head over heels in love with her, as they say at first sight. Her thick and delicate hair was like black silk, swaying in the wind. Her big eyes like a deer's, thick and long lashes, soft lips like rose petals, smooth as white marble chin, neck, arms and legs like ivory, just drove me crazy. We met.
It turns out that her name is Malika, and she was born here in the dream world.
I Salafanov Sotkin Sattarovich. I live in reality. I am the Director of a large factory that produces chemicals that are used in agriculture in our vast country - I said.
I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Sotkin Sattarovich. I'm sorry that I hit you on the head with a wet rag, " Malika apologized, smiling prettily, showing her teeth like white pearls.
No it's okay, it could have been worse. Where I'm from, wives sometimes hit their drunken husbands on the head with a rolling pin and a frying pan when they return home on all fours. But their husbands still drink, not drying out for weeks, or even months. They even drink kerosene if it gives them a high. Once I was hit on the head with a bag of flour. I still thank God that this bag didn't contain some heavy object, such as a stone boulder or, say, a dumbbell - I said.
Hearing my words, Malika laughed merrily:
-Are you also a humorist? That's great! - she said. Then asked:
Will you sleep over in our world tonight?
No, I must go home before my wife wakes up.You know, a rolling pin, a frying pan, and all that - I sighed sadly.
-Sorry - she said. Then she asked again,
Can I come with you?
No, Mrs. Malika, it is impossible, because our air is polluted with carbon dioxide from smoking chemical plants and factories, and the environment is contaminated with radiation. There you can suffocate and die like a fish in a broken aquarium. A gas mask won't even protect you, that's how bad the pollution has gotten, and I want you to live in this world for a long time, even forever, but don't worry, I will come again, I will definitely come, believe me! - I said, preparing to leave.
Take care of yourself! Be careful, Sotkin Sattarovich! There are ruthless red thugs out there -Malika warned me as she walked me home.
I was kicking, and I woke up next to my wife, who was lying like a crocodile on the banks of the raging Nile river in Egypt. When she woke up, she started scolding me:
What's wrong with you? Drunk again, or what? Hair like a stork's nest, clothes covered in mud! Oops! What about your old cotton coat?! What's the hole? Burned a cigarette what?! Oh, My God! What's in the skullcap? Apricots? What is it? - she asked.
Yes - I say - this is for you, my love, try it. You know, I was in a dream. I walk in short across the summer meadow, singing in the tall grass, like a lone mower with a scythe, whistling merrily. Larks sing over the meadow, filling with a ringing trill. White butterflies roam silently in a swarm, gently kissing each other in the air, not shy of me. They fly, quietly and weightlessly, as if in Paradise. From far away where swaying in the wind birch grove, I heard the sad voice of a lone hoopoe. The air was light and smelled of meadow flowers. You would want to lie down on the grass and die, looking at the endless blue sky, where white clouds float! I stopped on a path in the middle of the meadows to listen to the distant voice of the cuckoo, which came from the direction of the ravine. Suddenly there was a cavalry unit of the red army. The Reds in military hat "budenovka" and with sabres in their hands, firing rifles, chased me, and one of the bullets pierced the hem of my cotton chopan.
She didn't believe me. But still, after trying the apricot, she said:
Unbelievable! Is this really true? I can't believe it!. What an apricot, my God! I've never eaten anything like this. Just honey! Why did you take so little? You should have taken more. Now I'll give you a huge cardboard box and you will immediately go back to the world of dreams, and get a lot of dried apricots, you stupid director of a large factory that produces deadly, toxic chemicals! Try to bring as many apricots as possible, so that I can trade them smartly in the market. We'll use the leftovers to make sweet and thick jam for the winter - my wife said greedily. Then ask:
Can we go together?
I tell her:
No, don't. What are you, my white rose, covered with morning dew, full of red ones, armed to the teeth. Dangerous! How can I go on living without you in this world if they shoot you like a partridge?! No, I'd rather go alone.
After this conversation, my wife dressed me in a soldier's uniform, which I brought from the army, and before going to bed gave me a huge cardboard box in my hands. After a while I fell asleep again and again I began to dream of those gardens of Paradise. I walked through an uncut rye field, singing in the rye, and around me fluttered, as before, white, silent, harmless butterflies, some of them even touching me with their delicate wings. Then I was startled to see a man in a battered panama hat and an old patched jacket walking straight toward me, his arms wide open like a friend I hadn't seen in years. When I recognized him, I smiled. It turns out there was a scarecrow. Red cross-eyed dragonflies with transparent wings fluttered above the rye. A cuckoo was crying across the river, which was overgrown on both sides with tall reeds, which rustled in the wind like a green wave. Wading through shallow water with a huge cardboard box in my hands, I stopped at the foot of snow-capped mountain peaks, where a powerful stream of water bubbled under high granite rocks and foamed eddies, like the mustache of a man drinking Bovary, frothy, golden beer.
There was a steel-rope suspension bridge over a mountain river. I walked over the creaking, swaying bridge carefully, looking down in horror at the seething water. On the other side of the bridge, a grove of apricots rustled in the wind. A lone eagle soared high in the sky, circling majestically over the mountain gorge and shouting proudly. His cry, like a loud whistle, echoed. I see that old man with a white beard and white clothes, with a white turban on his head, sitting on the prayer carpet. Sitting on this carpet, he prayed. Without interrupting his prayer, I went cautiously towards the apricot grove.
At first, he ate the apricot himself, and then began to collect it in a cardboard box. After filling it with dried apricots and closing it securely, I went back across the suspension bridge, where the river was rushing in powerful streams under the high granite rocks of the mountain peaks, deafening the surrounding area with its noise. When I reached a meadow where a sea of daisies, melons, cornflowers and other meadow flowers were swaying in the wind, I suddenly saw a horse squadron of the national liberation army of kurbashi-commander of basmach Ibragimbek Lakai. Bearded warriors in striped robes were armed with machine guns, British-made Mausers, and bent Isfahan swords.
Warriors in striped clothing and hairy chests spurred their mounts and shot an arrow in my direction.
One of them shouted:
O warriors of Almighty Allah, strike this infidel, the red Satan! See his uniform, clothes, and shoulder straps?! Judging by the five-pointed red star on the cap, we can assume that he is a great chief of the communist army! This is the famous General, commander of the red army, for whose head Sheikh Abu Gibran Ibn Abdelrahman himself promised to pay thousands of gold coins! Having cut off the head of this godless communist with a sword, we will present it to the Sheikh!
Hearing this, my heart sank and I ran as fast as I could. How could it be otherwise? It's scary. I run recklessly with a huge cardboard box in my hands, filled to the brim with ripe sweet as honey apricots. A mounted squadron of bloodthirsty basmachs chased me in unison, waving razor-sharp Isfahan bent swords and firing randomly at me with British-made Mauser pistols. It was at this time that one stray bullet whistled and pierced through the cardboard box. I kept running, no matter what, and I think it's a good thing I didn't bring my wife. If they saw a woman without a burqa, they would be completely enraged. Besides, my wife is Russian. They would have cut me into small, small pieces with their bent sabers.
The bearded horsemen were still chasing me. But when I reached the forest, like the reds, they stopped their horses at the cordon, deciding to continue the chase on foot. Now I knew the road well and took advantage of the descent, similar to the slide of a playground for kids.
I went down, sitting like a little boy, who goes down a slide on a sled in winter. I started down the hill at a breakneck speed, holding a cardboard box filled with ripe apricots, sweet as honey. There, by the river, that girl was not there, and I, as before, hid in a dense thicket, so that I could come out carefully when the danger was over. But then, the basmach warriors caught me. Seeing a box of apricots one of the basmachs went crazy: -You bastard, did you steal the apricots from our sacred gardens? Well, that's it, you're finished, red pig! I'll skin you alive and stretch it over a tambourine. With these words, he wanted to smash my head with the butt of an British-made rifle, but he was stopped.
-No, Osman Ibn Nigman, wait! You'll ruin the face of that red godless Satan. I'm going to decapitate him carefully myself - said a thin and tall warrior, wearing a striped coat and a turban on his head. Then, drawing his sharp, tinkling steel dagger from its scabbard and licking its blade, he began to decapitate me, and then I woke up with a wild cry, covered in cold sweat. My wife also woke up from my scream and was happy to see a cardboard box with apricots. Still, she did not forget to reproach me for not protecting a cardboard box that had been pierced through by an enemy bullet during the firefight. After that, she rewarded me, that is, finally gave me a two-day break, so that I didn't have to sleep during these days. To be honest, I myself was afraid to fall asleep and find myself in a dream world where day and night fighting is going on, between warring parties, shots are fired and explosions are thundering. Fields and forests are burning, cities are Smoking, every day hundreds and sometimes thousands of young soldiers die on the battlefields, as well as innocent people, especially helpless children who are afraid to go to school to study.
Two days later, in the evening, when I came home from work, my wife again ordered me to go to the world of dreams for apricots. I say, my love, there's a full-scale civil war going on there. Seeing me in the national cotton chopan, the communists didn't hesitate and shot at close range, just riddled with machine guns, taking the Basmach. And the soldier's uniform that I brought from the army, on the contrary, will crush a gang of basmachs and they will catch me and kill me like a sheep! - I explained.
-Oh, you miserable coward! Also called the Director of a large factory that produces deadly toxic substances such as pesticides and herbicides! Such a big man, and afraid of bullets! Let the bullets be afraid of you! Come on, let's move faster and into the world of dreams, now! - she said. I had no choice but to obey and go to bed with a huge cardboard box in my hands, drinking a solid dose of sleeping pills with vodka, which my wife gave me. After a while, I fell asleep and found myself in a dream world with a huge cardboard box in my hands. I see the cities are Smoking, the rye fields are burning! Well I think about things. Then an armed fighter plane flew over me with such a roar that my ears were deafened by the noise. Bombers also flew, deafening the entire neighborhood. Blackened birch groves and pine forests burned to the ground. Residential buildings with low huts of villages turned into ashes and ruins. Only the stoves were left from the burned huts. A tired crowd of scowling people rode creaking carts to where the hills smoked. And the mobilized recruits went to the front on cargo half-trucks, saying goodbye to their beloved wives and other loved ones. Just at this time a young lieutenant came up to me and asked: - You also decided to go to war? I was confused by this unexpected question, and didn't know what to say.The young Lieutenant continued: - You're doing the right thing, comrade. After all, the Fatherland is in danger! The German-fascist invaders treacherously invaded the territory of our country! At such a time, every citizen of our country, whether they are Uzbek or Russian, Tatar or Tajic, Kazakh or Kyrgyz, Georgian or Jew, Armenian or Azerbaijan, Estonian or Latvian, Ukrainian or Belarusian, must voluntarily go to the defense of the Fatherland. The USSR is our common home. Let's hurry up, comrade. until the half-breed war caravan left. Get in the back of the truck now! - he said. After the fiery speech of the young Lieutenant, I had no choice but to obey, and I climbed into the back of the half-truck with a cardboard box in my hands. The half-truck started. I see a beautiful girl running down the lane, stumbling and crying in the direction of the semi-truck, in the back of which I was sitting. Good - Bye, Sotkin Sattarovich! I'll be waiting for you! Write me love triangle letters! O cursed war! You damned Hitler! She wept, wiping her burning tears on the edge of her Orenburg scarf. I recognized her and said good-bye to her. Goodbye, Malika! I love you! Wait for me and I will return, having defeated the fascist.
Horde! Don't mention it with a vengeance! - I shouted good-bye to her, waving my hand. After that, the military truck drove for a long time along a bumpy country road to the West, and only in the evening we arrived at the designated point, where we were given food, uniforms and weapons with ammunition.
The next day, early at dawn, we were sent by train to the front line, where there were fierce and bloody battles. We were ordered to go forward, with a chorus of cheers, and we rushed forward. The fascist command, watching our movements from afar with binoculars, was terribly frightened and lifted military planes into the air, which began to attack us from the air. Shells began to fall directly on us, air bombs with an ominous whistle and exploded. Despite this meat grinder, the brave and valiant soldiers of our Fatherland did not run away, on the contrary, they rose to the attack, inspiring each other- Forward, fellow soldiers for the Motherland! For comrade Stalin! - I shouted, too, with a huge cardboard box in my hands. After the airstrikes, artillery fire from cannons and howitzers began. There were sounds of cannonade, the clang of tracks, and the rumble of tanks. We had PPSh sub-machine guns, pistols, rifles, daggers and sapper shovels. Anti-tank grenades hung in clusters from their belts. But they were all made of wood. Even the bullets were made of wood. This is a unique military trick that was invented by our top military leadership, talented generals of the shock army. This was not only a unique military strategy, but also an unheard-of tactic, a military art. Well, what should we do if our state was not ready for such an unexpected large-scale war, experiencing an acute shortage of ammunition and small arms? As they say in war, all means are good. Then it turned out that we, that is, recruits from Central Asia, were sent to the front line like cannon fodder. It may sound bitter, but this is a historical fact. The horrors of war cannot be described with a simple pen. I see someone calling for help. I crawled up to him and when I saw his laceration, I involuntarily covered my mouth with my hand, making a sound of " Umk!". I was sick. It turns out that the exploding shell tore off his leg. I struggled to lift my wounded fellow soldier, and then another survivor started shouting: - leg! Take his leg, too! With these words, he ran in my direction, with a severed leg in his hands. - Are you crazy? Drop that leg! Bury it for God's sake! - I shouted back, walking with my wounded countryman on my shoulders. Then an air bomb exploded with a bang not far from me. When I woke up, I saw the fascists, who were shouting nervously in their own language, kicking the bodies of wounded soldiers with their boots: Get up, Schwein Soldat!
Sneila, sneila! So I was captured. I was betrayed in the concentration camp. The Gestapo SS found out that I was a member of the Communist party of the Soviet Union and sentenced me to death by hanging. I walked with my head held high to the scaffold where the gallows were set up. Angry service dogs barked all around, ready to tear me to pieces. The sound of drums rattled the air, smelling of burning meat and hair. After that, I climbed on a stool and the traitorous policeman put a noose around my neck, carefully soaping it with household soap. After these procedures, the officer of national Germany started to speak, but I didn't understand until the traitorous policeman translated his words into Russian.
Ger standartenfuhrer SS Otto Klaus says that we, the zuldats und officigin of Nazi Germany, will hang and shoot all Communists and Jews! Strangle them in gas chambers and burn them alive in crematoriums! You are given the last word and your final wish will be fulfilled by the loyal and kind executioners of the third Reich! Then we'll hang you! What do you want?! Bread? Vodka? Speak quickly, Schweine Communist, we don't have much time! - translated by the traitorous policeman.
-No, gerr SS standartenfuhrer, I don't care about bread and vodka right now! Finally, please give me a big empty cardboard box! - I said. Hearing my last words, SS standartenfuhrer Otto Klaus said "Fool!" and began to laugh uncontrollably , shaking all over, the guards, and the executioners too. They laughed. I see that the prisoners, that is, my countrymen, are also laughing at me. After a long laugh, they finally satisfied my request by holding an empty cardboard box and started to hang me. Hundreds of drums thundered again, giving the event a vile backdrop. The traitorous policeman was about to kick the stool out from under my feet, when suddenly someone ran up to the fascist officer and whispered something in his ear.
The officer ordered the execution to be stopped. Then he began to speak, and the traitorous policeman began to translate his words.
Achtung, zoldat und officigin Deutschland! Wehrmacht headquarters has just received more detailed information from our military intelligence officers that this commie whom we are going to execute worked as the Director of a large factory that produced deadly toxic drugs such as pesticides and herbicides, which are sprayed by tons of aircraft on the cotton fields of Sunny Uzbekistan, where local violence, University students, schoolchildren and even small children work, collecting white gold, that is, cotton, almost for free, disappearing in a fog of toxic chemicals, which paralyze the brain and liver of a person, turning healthy people into disabled people, destroying the gene pool of rape. We will need such chemical weapons of mass destruction very much in the future, and this prisoner of our comfortable concentration camp will help us in this, and his people, who worked heroically, not disappearing from the face of the earth on cotton plantations without chemical protection suits and gas masks, when with the help of aviation they sprayed tons of toxic pesticides over them! From such hardened people who were used as guinea pigs in secret medical research, we will create an army of Legionnaires! In this regard, this Communist and Director of a large chemical plant, we decided to award the highest order of Nazi Germany-the iron cross! Heil Hitler! - translated by a traitor with a white police armband on his sleeve.
I was startled and shouted in confusion: - no, no, Gerr SS standartenfuhrer, don't give me the iron cross! If I go home wearing this medal, I'm finished! My wife will immediately file for divorce, and enraged Uzbek people themselves will cast kill me with rocks and stones, making a "toshboron" and the local authorities, accusing me of treason, shoot in the center of Tashkent, in downtown, where the shot of the great Uzbek writer Abdulla Kadiriy!..
With these words I again woke up with an empty cardboard box in my hands.
I was afraid that my wife would make a terrible scene when she saw an empty cardboard box, and would rush at me with a rolling pin or a frying pan in her hand, shouting: - Where are the apricots?! I'm asking you! Did you eat them yourself, you bastard! I'm going to hit you in the head with this rolling pin, you stupid! Come on, go back to sleep and don't come back here without the apricots!.. But no, she was sleeping sweetly, like a baby in a cradle! If she was very tired, then she also went to the world of dreams, looking for me. - Oh, thank God my wicked wife didn't Wake up this time! - I whispered a sigh of relief. But I shouldn't have been happy. It turns out that my wife fell into an eternal sleep! -My poor girl, how will I live in this pitiless world without you, alone! I'm sorry, my dear, I'm sorry that I couldn't bring the honey-sweet apricots you asked for from the dream world! I cried, hugging her frozen body and putting my hand over her eyes, which remained open like the Windows of an abandoned old house. At my wife's funeral, it was raining heavily in the autumn, and I caught a cold. It was as if the sky was mourning her, too. - Forgive me, my love, and good-bye for ever and ever! Let the earth rest you in peace! - I cried, not being shy of those present and coughing. That night, after the funeral, while dressing warmly, I took an empty cardboard box and went to the world of dreams for sweet apricots to please the soul of my deceased wife. I walked carefully along the bumpy road, disappearing in and out of the smoke. But at the foot of the snow-capped mountain peaks, I was stopped by soldiers, informing me that there is a drone unfair war, where drones are used to launch pinpoint strikes from the air on military and civilian objects of the parties. Fields and forests are burning, cities, towns and villages are smoking, where thousands of people are dying, not the children of the instigators of war, but the sons of poor people, very young soldiers.
I had to go back home. Since then, I can't sleep and I don't go to the dream world for apricots. They say that now there are no longer flying drones, but Intercontinental ballistic missiles with nuclear warheads and hypersonic cruise missiles, that is, the third and last world war is underway.
finishing off his speech, Salafanov Sotkin Sattarovich, Director of chemical plant became silent.

2:07 of the day.
Canada, Ontario.



Holder Volcano

Member of the Uzbek Union of Writers

An article about the Ukrainian-Russian conflict, written in 2014.

Addresses of Holder Volkano to the presidents of all countries of the world.

Dear sirs!

The war in Ukraine is a black hole in the galaxy of the world community and it threatens the last big, thermonuclear war for all mankind. What is happening now in Ukraine is just a flower. This is just the beginning. The beginning of the end.

Yes, tens of thousands of people have died in Iraq, Libya, Syria and other countries of the world, and they are still dying. Especially innocent children who have no relation to confrontations. Millions and millions of people became refugees, forced to leave their native places where they were born, grew up, fell in love, married and lived happily until the war broke out there. Beautiful cities collapsed to the ground, the economy of the warring countries collapsed. The infrastructure built for centuries has failed, where universal famine and devastation are rampant.

But the war was going on there and is still going on in the middle east not for the territorial integrity of a particular state. That's where the difference is.
A war for territories has been unleashed between Russia and Ukraine, where the parties dictate their rightness in their own way and you don't know who is right here and who to believe.

Pro-Ukrainian experts say that Russia has cut off Crimea and continues to violate the territorial integrity of Ukraine, they say, what would Russia do if they annexed part of its territory?

And the pro-Russian ones say that the war in Ukraine is worse for Russia than to cut off part of its territory, and what would a particular country do when military bases are being built near its border?

And some people think that during the war Russia will finally get tired and its economy will collapse to the ground, the discontent of the people will increase inside Russia itself and a civil war will break out, breaking it apart.

There are other opinions that Russia will not get tired, on the contrary, the war in Ukraine unites the patriots of Russians as never before and, as a single organism, they will fight against world fascism, liberating the territory of Ukraine from them, as in the Second World War. Then the surrender, the new Nuremberg and all that. long story short, many people hope that everything will fall into place in the near future.

And what if NATO starts actively supporting Ukraine militarily? What then?
In this case, the pressures of Europe and the West will automatically contribute to the discussion to strengthen military-technical cooperation with China.

Yes, Western and European sanctions may partially weaken Russia's economic power, but sanctions cannot solve the political problems that have arisen in the world.

It is obvious that a political procedure of this kind does not heal the open bleeding wounds of the world community, on the contrary, it gives a side effect, severing trade and economic ties of states around the world.

To drive this or that state into a corner in such ways is very dangerous and fraught with consequences. That is, this method of punishment forces the cornered state to apply the last measure. I hope you all understand what I'm talking about.

So wake up, gentlemen presidents, and do not be naive, thinking that the war in Ukraine is controlled and, they say we have a reliable Anti-missile defense, a space shield and with what you can prevent the danger.

Here we must not forget about the guarantee that there is no guarantee in the world that the other side of the barricade has not developed new types of ultramodern nuclear missiles beyond the control of our or your space shields. That's where the danger that threatens all of humanity lies.

They say that only victory will stop the war. But this so-called victory will cost too much for the belligerents, since it is won at the cost of the lives of millions and millions of innocent people.

War is a spark that arises when the geopolitical and economic interests of the parties clash and turns into a terrible fire that covers all the territories of the planet.

In order to realize, feel or somehow experience the pain and suffering of those people who have become hostages of the warring parties, a person should try to mentally put themselves, their children, their family in their place for at least an hour, at least for a minute.

When a fire breaks out, we shout, call the fire fighters and run, clutching buckets in our hands to put out the fire. When forests are burning, we take helicopters and Emergency Situations planes into the air to localize a forest fire.

Why are we sitting idly by when the World is burning, where hundreds and thousands of people are dying?! Where many innocent children are dying!

We have one universal house, one planet!
Here everyone has to do something to stop the war.
Why are those people who are the first responsible persons for the preservation of human life, for the preservation of peace and tranquility on the planet, inactive?

Gentlemen presidents, the peoples voted for you, entrusting their destinies to you, and today you must feel responsible not only to your peoples, but also to humanity.
Find ways to prevent bloodshed in Ukraine before the whole planet explodes.

With great respect to all the Presidents of the states of the world, Uzbek writer Holder Volkano.

11:37 p.m.
Brampton, Canada.




Великий русский юморист Геннадий Хазанов, который мы уважаем от чистого сердца.



Holder Volcano

Member of the Uzbek Union of Writers

The Watchman

(The story)

This story is dedicated to the great Russian humorist Gennady Hazanov.

Duglat Dutarovich works as a watchman at a log warehouse. His replacement, Ivan Baltazarovich Spiridonov, recently died, and he was buried in the city cemetery with all honors. Despite the fact that Duglat Dutarovich is a Muslim, he still decided to go and attend the wake of his late replacement Spridonov Ivan Baltazarovich. The deceased was an Orthodox Christian and even wore a small wooden cross on his long neck. On Sundays, he went to church, lit candles for the repose of the souls of his departed parents. When black clouds were approaching and a thunderstorm began, rattling with thunderclaps, Ivan Baltazarovich Spiridonov, looking at the sky, crossed himself widely, asking his god Jesus Christ for salvation. But for some reason, God did not save him. Either he did not pray as he should, or God did not hear his prayers. It so happened that he tragically died. When unloading the wagons, the cable of the crane suddenly broke, and poor Ivan Baltazarovich Spridonov was left under the rubble of huge logs. Oh, life is an echoing tin can. The person was alive just yesterday, rejoiced, and now he is gone.
With such thoughts, Duglat Dutarovich went into the room where it was planned to celebrate the wake. Candles were burning on the table, and drinks, snacks and all sorts of delicious things were neatly laid out. Rudolf Makarovich Nikiforov, the head of the department, was the first to take the floor. Holding a glass of excellent vodka in his hand, he began to say:
- Dear last guests of our late compatriot Ivan Baltazarovich Spiridonov! Let us remember our dear faithful friend, the modest and honest caretaker of our log warehouse!
All the guests together, as a single organism, got up from their seats with glasses of moonshine in their hands. Everyone was standing without a headdress. Only Douglat Dutarovich was wearing a skullcap, since it is not customary for Muslims to attend funerals and other events without a headdress. The guests, of course, paid attention to his headdress, but no one began to make comments to him. Everyone reacted calmly, with understanding and tolerance.
- Ivan Baltazarovich was truly a great person!- Rudolf Makarovich Nikiforov continued, - As far as I know, he never wished harm to anyone. he always helped with everything he could. Unfortunately, a disaster happened, and our dear friend Baltazarich was left under the rubble of pine logs, which he loved, which he called his countrymen from distant Russia! Whenever birch logs were unloaded from the car, he secretly cried, wiping his tears with a cap and whispering "my poor white birches! You are lying here, instead of growing up under the low windows of Russian huts, swaying and ringing in the free wandering wind!" - he said with tears in his eyes. As if hearing his touching words, the pine logs also wept silently, dropping amber resinous tears. Oh, what a magnificent person with an open soul we have lost! This is a great loss for our friendly team! Dear Ivan Baltazarovich, sleep well, let your grave's ground be soft and your soul in paradise! - in conclusion, the head of the department Rudolf Makarovich said, crossing himself finely. He then drank the vodka in one gulp, emptying the faceted glass.
Everyone repeated the movements of zavsklad Rudolf Makarovich, except Duglat Dutarovich, who could not cross himself in any way. His hand did not obey him. But he drank a glass of moonshine to the bottom, and putting his lips to his sleeve, overcoming the burning of the strong drink. After that, everyone sat down together, ate, drank, talked, remembering the deceased with a kind word. Then they ate and drank and talked again. Meanwhile, Duglat Dutarovich got drunk and began to cry bitterly. It was as if all the moonshine he had drunk had seeped out of the cracks of his narrow eyes, turning into bitter tears. - Poor Baltazarich! My friend! Seni Khudo rahmat kilsin, dostim! (Allah bless you, my friend!) - he cried, continuing to speak:- You lived in Uzbekistan, but you always thought about your distant homeland, which is Russia. Do you remember when we used to roast Russian vodka from cups in the guardhouse of our warehouse? Outside, snow was falling, covering the roofs of houses, the road, trees and neatly stacked pine and birch logs. The guard dog in the kennel was barking lazily.Snowflakes swirled weightlessly under the hanging creaking lantern, like a swarm of mosquitoes. Divine silence reigned. It was as if the neighborhood had fallen silent to listen to the gentle rustle of snow. After drinking the next shot to the bottom, you said that not only money brought you to work, but also the smell, the resinous aroma of pine logs, which reminds you of the smell of Russian coniferous forests, where your carefree childhood passed! You often wore a skullcap and a chapan, you loved Uzbekistan. You spoke fluent Uzbek without an accent. You have always said that Uzbekistan is your second homeland and all the people who live in this sunny country, regardless of race, nationality, traditions and religious affiliation, should live in peace and harmony, respecting and piously observing the Constitution and laws of our sovereign state of Uzbekistan and speak the state language. That's why we all loved and respected you, Vanya! You were our red-haired Uzbek.We will never forget you... What a ridiculous death, oh, my God?!- he cried into his skullcap.
One of the people present began to calm him down.
- Easy, brother. Why are you crying? Well, what are we supposed to do? The time will come when we will die and we will be buried again. Edo paddock briroda, bonimaezh? Here, drink this homemade rye brew, which was made a year ago. It'll make it easier for you, " he said, handing him another portion of murky moonshine in a faceted glass.
Duglat Dutarovich drank the contents and passed out completely. He woke up under a wooden fence, where nettles were swaying in the wind. He stood up quickly. He found his skullcap, shook the dust off it, put it on his head and looked around. He felt ashamed. He then staggered down the sidewalk. Passer-byes avoided him, not wanting to run into a drunk person and get themselves into unnecessary problems. Everything inside Duglat Dutarovich was burning. He was terribly thirsty. It seemed to him that he could not quench his thirst, even if he drank the whole ocean to the bottom. He was delighted to see a water tap from which transparent water, the moisture of life, was noisily pouring out. Duglat Dutarovich rushed to the water tap and began to drink water directly from the tap, putting his mouth to the pipe. Grabbing the faucet with his hands, he greedily drank water. But he couldn't get drunk. Douglat Dutarovich was even scared, thinking that he had gotten diabetes mellitus. Wiping his mouth with his skullcap, he continued on his way, walking along the sidewalk like a zombie. He felt like a soldier on the battlefield who was crushed by an enemy tank. He really wanted to rest somewhere and get some more sleep. Douglat Dutarovich was also afraid of patrol and post policemen who could send him to a sobering-up center.
With such thoughts, he went to the bus stop and sat down on a bench. Then he lay down, covering his head with the edge of his jacket, and fell asleep. He was woken up by a man of about forty-five, tall, dressed in a tuxedo and with a bow tie around his neck.
- Hey, comrade, wake up! Why are you lying here? Are you feeling ill? "No, I'm fine," he said. I was just sitting here and fell asleep without noticing it myself, " Duglat Dutarovich replied, getting up and adjusting his skullcap. - Well, thank God. I thought... But you will forgive me if I interrupted your sweet dream, in the most interesting place-said the stranger, smiling politely. - No, no, sir. Everything is fine. My name is Douglat. Duglat Dutarovich. I work as a watchman in a warehouse - Duglat Dutarovich introduced himself.
- What a meeting! It turns out that we are colleagues, dear Douglat Dutarovich. I'm glad to meet you.My name is Abu Insan ibn Diyonat, - the man in the tuxedo said.
- Yes? I can't believe it. Judging by your clothes, I can assume that you work as a watchman in a large international bank. Or work as part of a special unit and protect the president of the country - said Duglat Dutarovich.
- This is a trade secret, dear colleague. Wherever we work, our work is very responsible and difficult. When everyone is sleeping a sweet sleep, we work with you, we go back and forth, guarding property, when the moon is shining quietly and the stars are burning like diamonds in the high sky... Why are we standing here? Let's go to a cafe and continue the conversation over a cup of tea or coffee, " suggested Abu Insan ibn Diyonat.
- Well, that's not a bad idea-agreed Douglat Dutarovich.
- And, talking, they went in the direction of an expensive restaurant.
Seeing this, Douglat Dutarovich stopped.
- Excuse me, colleague Abu Insan ibn Diyonat, where are we going? This is an expensive restaurant! There are such expensive dishes there that even my meager symbolic monthly salary will not be enough for half of a portion! - Duglat Dutarovich said, stepping back.
- Oh, come on, dear colleague. Don't be afraid. I'm treating you - Abu Insan ibn Diyonat reassured Douglat Dutarovich.
- Well, if you are treating me, then, perhaps, we can look in, - said Douglat Dutarovich.
They went into a luxurious restaurant and sat down at a table on which fresh roses smelled in porcelain vases, silver spoons and forks with knives lay, candles burned on gilded candelabra. Rich people in tuxedos and bow ties were sitting around. They drank cognac, ate caviar and smoked fragrant cigars. On the stage, one thin and shaggy musician selflessly, constantly closing his eyes, played Strauss' music on the violin. Some gentlemen danced with their ladies to the beat of the music. The waiter came with a white towel on his wrist and a notebook in his hands.
- What will you order, gentlemen? - the waiter asked politely with a pleasant Gagarin smile. The watchman Abu Insan ibn Diyonat, having studied the menu, ordered three dishes and French cognac with Scottish wine, plus dessert. Hearing what Abu Insan ibn Diyonatordered, the watchman Duglat Dutarovich almost got up from his seat and ran out of the restaurant.
- How can we afford such a thing, dear colleague?! - Duglat Dutarovich became worried - This is the food and drink of the rich! You and I are just pathetic watchmen. If you are counting on me, then stop this madness immediately, before it's too late! I don't even have enough money to ask how much one serving of food costs in this restaurant!
- Well, what are you so, eh, colleague? People are looking at us. I promised you that I would treat you. You sit quietly and don't worry. We will celebrate our meeting with you properly, " said the watchman Abu Insan ibn Diyonat.
- Well, all right, colleague, all right. But remember, I warned you in the presence of this waiter. I will not pay a penny if there is any problem with the payment. That is, all the responsibility falls on you - said Duglat Dutarovich, perplexed and not understanding the actions of his colleague. The waiter left. Douglat Dutarovich looked with fright and surprise at the rich visitors of the restaurant and at the huge crystal chandeliers, at the mirrors, at the shaggy musician who was playing Strauss in a trance, deftly moving his bow. The violin was crying, and people were laughing, laughing, glasses were clinking. Finally, the waiter brought everything they had ordered.
- Well, where do we start, colleague? With French cognac or with Scotch whiskey? - Abu Insan ibn Diyonat, the watchman, asked.
- I don't care. I am ready to drink even ink or kerosene.If only there was a buzz, - said Douglat Dutarovich, thrusting the tip of a napkin into the collar of his checkered winter shirt, wielding a jingling silver fork and knife, as if preparing to eat in an aristocratic way.
- Well, then we will drink French cognac, - said the watchman Abu Insan ibn Diyonat, pouring cognac from a crystal decanter into thin glasses that tinkled.
- Come on, colleague, let's drink to our meeting! Abu Insan ibn Diyonatsaid, raising his glass.
And, clinking their glasses, they drank the first shots. The cognac was pleasant. Colleagues first had a snack, then they began to eat super-expensive delicacies with an appetite. The watchman Abu Insan ibn Diyonatwas eating the first course. Looking at him, Douglat Dutarovich put down his fork and knife and also took a spoon. He began to slurp the delicious soup, dipping bread into it. Then they drank again and continued to eat.
At this moment, a group of rich people came into the restaurant. Among them were women in expensive dresses, with gold rings on their fingers and with gold chains on their delicate necks. Suddenly one of the men of this company stopped abruptly and, looking at the watchman Abu Insan ibn Diyonat, was terribly happy.
-Oh-oh-oh, that's da-a-aa! Our dear host, Mr. Abu Insan ibn Diyonat, is also here, it turns out! Hello, boss! - he said and, going to the table where his colleagues were sitting, greeted the watchman Abu Insan ibn Diyonatin an embrace. He also greeted Douglat Dutarovich, firmly shaking his hand. The other members of the company also ran to Abu Insan ibn Diyonatand began to greet him, hugging him tightly. The women kissed Abu Insan ibn Diyonat. But when they saw Duglat Dutarovich, their mood changed dramatically,and their ringing laughter stopped. They looked at Duglat Dutarovich as if he were an unwashed savage, as if he were a steppe gopher. Abu Insan ibn Diyonatintroduced them to Duglat Dutarovich.
- This, Duglat Dutarovich, is my colleague! - he introduced him.
- Oo-oo, your colleague?! Wow! The director of a large corporation, then! It was very nice to meet your friend, a successful and modest businessman! - the guy said, shaking hands with Duglat Dutarovich again.
Hearing this, the women smiled again and began to laugh, stretching out their tender hands to Duglat Dutarovich.
- Very nice! My name is Matlyuba! And my name is Malika! - they smiled.
- What a grand meeting, my God! Hey waiters! Let's connect our table with the table of our esteemed boss! - the guy shouted.
The waiters quickly connected the tables, and the company sat down at them, as if at a banquet, as at a magnificent wedding. A real feast of aristocrats began. Horse, whiskey, wine, fun, laughter, laughter. The man raised a glass to the health of the watchman Abu Insan ibn Diyonat, said the following:
- Dear host, Mr. Abu Insan ibn Diyonat! Today, reading the stock exchange news in the American magazine "Forbes", I learned that your fortune today is one trillion dollars! Please accept my congratulations, dear Abu Insan ibn Diyonat!
-Thank you, my friend, - Abu Insan ibn Diyonat said. Hearing this, Duglat Dutarovich's jaw dropped in surprise. -No, it can't be like that! It's either a mirage or a dream. Or some kind of practical joke. These rich aristocrats are probably mocking me, he thought. Meanwhile, the fun continued. More toasts, clinking glasses, laughter, dancing and all that.
After these words, Duglat Dutarovich got drunk again. He got up from his seat with a glass in his hand and began to speak: - Dear colleagues! I want to tell you a funny story! - In short, my wife and I, in order to boost the economy of our family, sometimes work in two shifts. One day I told my wife, who works as a cleaner at school, that I would wake her up at midnight, when our children were asleep and we were doing important things. She said that this is impossible, since we have the same room and our children sleep next to me. Also my mother. A little bit that they can wake up. I'm saying, don't worry, honey. I made it up. In short, we will carefully tie your big toe with a thin rope with a sea knot, then, when our children fall asleep with my beloved mother-in-law, I will pull the rope and you will wake up. She agreed. I tied my wife's big toe with a rope and began to look forward to the historic moment. Our children and my beloved mother-in-law finally fell asleep. My wife, too. - Just right - I thought, my eyes flashing in the pitch darkness and pulled the rope. Then my wife jumped out of bed in fright, shouting: - Waaaay! Wai daaaad, what is this?! Help! Hearing her scream, the children woke up. My mother-in-law, did too. They started screaming in terror, hugging each other. -I say to my wife: - why are you shouting, you fool! It's me! Have you forgotten our agreement?! But they were all shouting, trembling with fear.Then, frightened by the noise, our cat jumped, turning over pots and other utensils in the kitchen. And there our angry dog began to bark loudly and nervously. Then the chickens in the coop began to cackle, the geese began to cackle with a trumpet voice, the turkeys made a noise, blushing up to their necks, the cows began to low like ferries on a foggy river, the sheep and goats also bleated with all their might from fright. Our pigs grunted terribly, screamed, as if they were being slaughtered. As if this was not enough, our donkey began to search, stretching his head out of the stable doorway, closing his eyes and showing his large front teeth. Hearing the noise, the neighbors began to wake up one by one, turning on the lights and not making them wait for a long time, they came running in a crowd with pitchforks and rakes in their hands, thinking that a gang of robbers armed to the teeth had broken into our house. Someone called the police and a masked assault team quickly arrived with machine guns in their hands, as well as an ambulance with a fire brigade, with a heart-rending scream, howling sirens. The police interrogated the witnesses, drew up a protocol and took me away in an ambulance to a madhouse - the watchman Duglat Dutarovich said, finishing his story.
Listening to his story, the rich people laughed for a long time, dying of laughter. Especially Abu Insan ibn Diyonat.
When they went outside, a single moon was shining in the sky and the stars were twinkling. Duglat Dutarovich wanted to say goodbye and leave, but Abu Insan ibn Diyonat held him back.
- Wait, where are you, a colleague, going for the night looking? Here are the guys who will take you home on these carts, " he said, pointing to expensive Lamborghini and Rolls Royce limousines. Douglat Dutarovich swung like a pendulum and, looking at the watchman Abu Insan ibn Diyonat, said in surprise:
- I'm sorry, colleague. I'm kind of perplexed. You're... hick!..they told me that you also work as a watchman. And you, it turns out, are a billionaire! Or me... hick!.. are you imagining all this? That is, you are a billionaire, not a watchman... It is not good to deceive and mock poor people, Mr. Abu Insan ibn Diyonat, - he said.
-So what of it? - I'm a trillionaire.But I, in fact, am also a simple watchman, just like you, dear colleague. Yes, yes, don't be surprised...Here you are guarding the property of the warehouse, right?! And then what is the difference between me and you, if I live every day, every hour, every minute without days off, guarding my wealth, which is spinning in the major banks of the world, gold and diamonds stored in safe vaults in Switzerland, as well as securities, such as stocks and bonds on the stock exchange, watching day and night for the fall of indices in the financial market and then.I have only recently come to the conclusion that all these years I have not lived, but only worked as a watchman, day and night, carefully protecting my wealth, my life, the lives of my loved ones. It turns out that from the president of the country to the common man, everyone is a watchman and protects themselves, their family, their country and their property from someone or something in this crazy world in this fleeting life, having never learned to protect themselves from their own desires, which lead to deep disappointment at the end of our life - Abu Insan ibn Diyonat explained.
Then Duglat Dutarovich woke up and saw a policeman.
- Citizen, stand up. You can't sleep in public places, - he said.
Duglat Dutarovich got up, asked for forgiveness and walked along the path towards the log warehouse, remembering that he had to change his new replacement tonight.

4: 30 p.m.
Brampton, Canada.



Holder Volcano

Member of the Uzbek Union of Writers


- When we entered your cave, your wife said that you were 750 years old. Your daughter is 170 and your son will soon turn 300. Is this true, or did I hear it wrong?
- Yes, it's true, Lainjon Lanat. I'm actually 750 years old. Do I look older or something? - Baltabalyk said.
- That's just it. You look very young. I just wonder, how can a person live so long? - Lainjon Lanat was surprised.
- And what, people don't live so long on your Earth? - Baltabalyk asked in surprise.
- Our people live on average 50-60 years. We have polluted air, countless factories were smoking day and night all over the planet, releasing carbon dioxide into the atmosphere and the radiation is off the scale, - Yakan ibn Hakan replied.
- What are you guys joking about? - Baltabalyk was surprised again.
- Honest pioneer- said Lainjon Lanat.
- Well, you poor earthlings! Our monkeys even live longer than you! - Baltabalyk exclaimed.
- If people on Earth would live as long as you do, then our dictators would sit in the presidential chair for 2000 years!



Yakan ibn Khaqan

(The fantastic story)

The endless quarrels of his wife simply exhausted Yakan ibn Khaqan and forced him to fly to the planet "Gurrabash" to bring back precious stones, exchanging them for dung. It turns out that in Gurrabash, dung is the most expensive material, like gold and diamonds here. And precious metals and precious stones have no value, like dung on our globe. Yakan ibn Khaqan had been preparing for a long and dangerous flight for a long time, carefully checking the technical serviceability of his flying saucer.Then, taking his driver's license and passport, he flew to the planet "Gurrabash", loading as many dung as possible into the trunk of his flying saucer, which he collected in the meadows all summer. His saucer flew at breakneck speed through space rocks such as meteorites, asteroids, fragments that sometimes crashed into the thick bulletproof windshield of the aircraft unit. Despite this, the spacecraft of Yakan ibn Khaqan continued its journey through the vast expanses of boundless space, illuminating its way with powerful headlights. Yakan ibn Khaqan was most afraid of falling asleep, because falling asleep he could commit a space catastrophe and die. Therefore, in order not to fall asleep at the helm, he began to sing the song of the great Uzbek singer from Fergana Tavakkal Kadyrov "Ohshaydiku" to the poems of the poet Hamza Hakimzada Niyazi, who was brutally killed by religious fans, throwing stones at Shakhimardan. Yakan ibn Khaqan flew for a long time, until near the air restaurant, some strange type of tall, skinny, like Shaitan, stopped him with a spacewalker, raising his thumb up. Yakan ibn Khaqan stopped his aircraft and a man in a spacesuit climbed into the cockpit.
- Close the door and fasten your seat belt! - said Yakan ibn Khaqan.
-Well, thank you very much, my friend, for helping! I'm all frozen. I was flying to a neighboring galaxy and on you, the flying saucer on which I was flying broke. I did not spend money on its repair and waited for the arrival of mechanics. Besides, it's not mine. I rented this wreck from a neighbor. I thought, I'd better catch some passing flying saucers and fly on. I don't like flying on cosmo beads. It's full of bad drunk humanoids... Do you recognize me? "What is it?" he asked suddenly, smiling slyly.
-No, I don't remember you. Maybe we crossed paths somewhere, saw each other, I don't know, - replied Yakan ibn Khaqan, casting a cursory glance in the rearview mirror.
The fellow traveler continued: - It's me, Lainjon Lanat, who caused you a lot of evil. Remember, we were once sitting at Ibn Nigman's house, drinking vodka, and when we ran out of booze, you flew on this old flying saucer of yours for vodka, disappearing into a snowstorm. That's when I delivered a heavy blow to Ibn Nigman's head with a tire iron. When he fell with a bloody head on the floor, I cleaned out his pockets, took money and jewelry , and to get rid of the body, I threw the corpse of ibn Nigman into a deep snow-covered ravine. I thought that a pack of hungry wolves would eat his corpse, leaving no evidence. Your passport in a cellophane cover, which I stole from you along with the money when you got drunk, I also threw the passport into the ravine. Then disappeared into the forest. The impenetrable blizzard was still raging. In the spring, when the snow melted, the police found the body of Ibn Nigman, rotting beyond recognition, and your passport. Then you were detained, suspected of murder, and then you went to jail. So you've been in prison all these years because of my sins. I think that today we were met by fate itself, from which you can not escape. I deeply regret what I have done and I really want to ask you for forgiveness, Yakan ibn Khaqan. It would be nice if you would forgive me.
Yakan ibn Khaqan was silent and calmly flew to himself, without taking his eyes off the space-air road, instead of rushing at the vile Lainjon Lanat and strangling him.
- Or maybe you want me to apologize to you in writing? Lainjon Lanat asked, smiling.
- Yes, I think so. Preferably in two copies. I will keep one for myself, and the presiding judge will attach the other to the criminal case in court, - replied Yakan ibn Khaqan, also with a smile on his lips.
Then he added: "You know, Lainjon Lanat, I am sympathetic to sick people, in the spiritual sense of the word. The same applies to vile and envious types and stupid brainless animals, - he said.
With such conversations, they continued the flight until the super-high-speed space ship of Yakan ibn Khaqan fell into an air pit resembling a concrete mixer, where numerous fragments of meteorites drummed on the body.
- It's started! - Yakan ibn Khaqan said, clutching the steering wheel of the aircraft with all his strength with blue fingers. The flying saucer trembled, losing altitude and abruptly began to descend, as if the heart of Yakan ibn Khaqan had sunk into its heels. The fall lasted a long time. Lainjon Lanat screamed in horror: - Yakan ibn Khaqan! Do something! Oh, my God! - he shouted, crying and spinning like a stone in a concrete mixer.
- Now, Lainjon Lanat! Now, ain't the moment! - Yakan ibn Khaqan said, trying to take control of the recalcitrant machine. At this time, they both saw high rocks that flashed on the monitor and shouted in fear: - Aaaaaaaaaaa!
It is good that Yakan ibn Hakan was able to establish control over the car. After that, the flying space ship flew at high speed between two rocks. Then, slowly losing speed and barely touching the snow with his belly, he began to fly low over the snow-covered fields. Yakan ibn Khaqan pressed the brakes and they worked. Finally, the Flying saucer, taking a deep snowdrift near the forest cordon, stopped. Yakan ibn Hakan and Lainjon Lanat sat for a long time in a state of shock in the cabin of the flying saucer. Then, gradually coming to their senses, they began to thank God that he had left them alive. Their legs were still shaking from the fear they had experienced. A lump the size of a small lemon formed on the forehead of Yakan ibn Khaqan. Lainjon Lanat was sitting with a broken head and crying with happiness. After a while, Yakan ibn Hakan opened the hatch and they climbed up. They came out of the cabin of the flying saucer that had made an emergency landing and thought, not knowing what to do and where to go. It was snowing, a blizzard was humming. Against the background of snow, it was possible to distinguish the surrounding area. Suddenly, at the foot of a high cliff, they saw a small cave where a light was burning.
- I feel intuitively that there is someone there, - said Yakan ibn Khaqan and headed towards the cave, stumbling and falling into the snow. Lainjon Lanat followed him. When they came close to the cave, they saw a man with a crossbow in his hands, tall, broad-shouldered, with long hair, and a serious face, dressed in animal skin, presumably a wolf.
- Hello, sir! We, this, came from the planet "Earth". Maybe you've heard of it? There is such a planet in the universe where earthlings produce chemical, biological and bacteriological weapons of mass destruction, cruise, ballistic intercontinental missiles with nuclear warheads to destroy each other, comparing the beautiful cities that their ancestors built with the earth... Oh, sorry, we didn't introduce ourselves. I am an entrepreneur Yakan ibn Hakan, and this passenger's name is Lainjon Lanat. We are taking dung to the planet "Gurrabash" to exchange them for gold and diamonds, " said Yakan ibn Hakan.
The man with a crossbow in his hands, looking at the screen of his compact translator device, began to say:
- Hello, gentlemen aliens! Welcome to our planet. I am very glad to meet you. My name is Baltabalyk-the device translated the words of the man with a crossbow.
- It was nice to meet you, Mr. Baltabalyk. We were flying through the boundless space together, but unfortunately our Flying saucer broke down and we had to make an emergency landing here. Is there a repair shop for spacecraft in the vicinity? We need to repair our saucer and fly on. We will pay for the repair with priceless dung, " said Lainjon Lanat.
- Yes, don't worry about it. We have a repair shop for aircraft of any modification.There are also enough spare parts and qualified mechanics who will help you. Only we have such a tradition - to meet aliens as their relatives and treat them with what God has sent, no matter from which galaxy they have arrived.So, first I invite you to visit. Come to me, dear aliens - said Baltabalyk.
- The Earthlings agreed and followed the alien. When they entered the cave, Baltabalyk introduced them to his wife.
"This is my wife, Mrs. Matilda, - he said... Yakan ibn Khaqan wanted to shake and kiss the tender hands of Baltabalyk's wife, but it was not expected. Baltabalyk's hostile wife met them, as they say, with hostility. She started yelling at Baltabalyk and a compact translator device began to translate her words into our language.
- Why did you bring these parasites, why?! Well, why do we need guests when we have nothing to eat ourselves?! When will you finally come to your senses, you fool of fools?! When?! Tell me, where did you find them?! They only look like a person! Maybe they are werewolves or zombies infected with rabies, how do you know them?!.. Oh, why did I even marry this idiot, for God's sake!.. Mrs. Matilda said, and began to beat her face with her hand, as if punishing herself for marrying Baltabalyk by mistake.
Hearing the words of his grumpy wife, poor Baltabalyk blushed deeply with shame. And his wife kept grumbling: - He's already seven hundred and fifty years old, and he's still like a little boy! Naive loser, as he was a fool, so he remained! Our daughter is already 170 years old, and our son will soon turn 300! They should be married! And for what money, I ask? In order to have a normal wedding, it takes at least 45-50 thousand shilatans! Who will give us such a sum of money?! We have to get them on their feet! Otherwise, my father will turn over in his flying coffin!.. While saying these words, the woman began to cry into her leaky apron. Baltabalyk said quietly to Yakan Ibn Hakan and lainjon Lanat - Let's get out of here, Earthlings. The new friends went out into the street, where a blizzard was buzzing, whirling snow flakes in the gloom. The diamond dust of snowflakes did not allow them to open their eyes. They followed Baltabalyk, protecting themselves from snow flakes with their hands, looking back from time to time.
- Mr. Baltabalyk, where are we going?! Lainjon Lanat shouted, walking heavily in the thick snow, through a snow vortex.
- To my office! - Baltabalyk exclaimed without looking back. They headed towards the high cliffs. The distant howling of polar wolves could be heard. Finally, they came to the cave where Baltabalyk works. The guests came to the door and shook the snow off their clothes. Baltabalyk took the keys and opened the door. They observed that it resembled the cabins of a huge helicopter, as there were many different devices, sensors and buttons. The floor was covered with the skins of some kind of animal with long hair. There was a small window on the wall of the cave.
- Here, my friends earthlings, this is my office. I work in this hole, " Baltabalyk said.
- Excuse me, please, Mr. Baltabalyk, What do you do here, if it's not a secret? - Yakan ibn Khaqan asked.
- My work is not hard, but it is responsible. I work as the main sun igniter and sun extinguisher of our planet. I turn on the sun in the morning and turn it off in the evening to somehow save energy. You see, the moon and the stars are real, but the sun is artificial. Well, what to do if our planet is far from the sun? The work is interesting and romantic. I get 99 shilatans per month. This is not enough, of course.But I'm not complaining. On the contrary, I am happy when I see children playing in the sun, cheerfully and together shouting like seagulls on the shore of the sea. The time of the year changes every two weeks. Today is the last day of the second week. That is, the end of winter. Tomorrow morning, the long-awaited spring will come.Migratory birds will arrive from the south. The most interesting thing is that our plants are also adapted to the seasons and they grow quickly, right before our eyes. The trees also hurriedly open their buds, open their leaves and bloom. And there is summer, autumn, winter again, and so on, " Baltabalyk explained.
- Yes, you have an interesting planet and your work is unique, - said Lainjon Lanat. Then he continued: - excuse me, I have another question.
- Please, what is the question? Baltabalik smiled.
- When we entered your cave, your wife said that you were 750 years old. Your daughter is 170 and your son will soon turn 300. Is this true, or did I hear it wrong?
- Yes, it's true, Lainjon Lanat. I'm actually 750 years old. Do I look older or something? - Baltabalyk said.
- That's just it. You look very young. I just wonder, how can a person live so long? - Lainjon Lanat was surprised.
- And what, people don't live so long on your Earth? - Baltabalyk asked in surprise.
- Our people live on average 50-60 years. We have polluted air, countless factories were smoking day and night all over the planet, releasing carbon dioxide into the atmosphere and the radiation is off the scale, - Yakan ibn Hakan replied.
- What are you guys joking about? - Baltabalyk was surprised again.
- Honest pioneer- said Lainjon Lanat.
- Well, you poor earthlings! Our monkeys even live longer than you! - Baltabalyk exclaimed.
- If people on Earth would live as long as you do, then our dictators would sit in the presidential chair for 2000 years!
- Excuse me, Earthlings, I'm leaving you for just a few minutes. With these words, Baltabalyk went to the next room. A few minutes later, he appeared with a large tray in his hands, where there were smoked crabs, fish and fruit. Before starting to eat, Lainjon Lanat took out a bottle of vodka from his back pocket and said:
- Mr. Baltabalyk! I want to drink with you at the bruderschaft for our acquaintance! With these words, he opened the bottle and poured vodka into faceted glasses. Yakan ibn Khaqan refused to drink.
- We will not pour Yakan ibn Khaqan. He can't. He's driving with us. And we will drink to you, to the health of your beautiful blue-eyed wife, Mrs. Matilda. Come on, take a glass and let's go! - Lainjon Lanat said, handing the glass to Baltabalyk. He smiled in response and took a faceted glass of vodka. Lainjon Lanat was the first to drain the glass, gulping down the contents. Then, while eating, he made a gesture that Baltabalyk would also drink. He drank the vodka in one gulp and choked heavily. He coughed and clutched his throat with dilated eyes, and was terribly scared, thinking that Lainjon Lanat had poisoned him.
Lainjon Lanat began to calm him down:
- Don't be afraid, Baltabalyk! It will pass now! eat, eat this!..
Baltabalyk had a bite and he felt much better. The strong vodka made his eyes water. Wiping his tears, he said:
- What a drink you have, Earthlings! I almost died!
Yakan ibn Khaqan and Lainjon Lanat were laughing. Baltabalyk too. Lainjon Lanat again filled the glasses with burning vodka to the brim and handed one of them to Baltabalyk. looking at the glass in fright, Baltabalyk refused to drink. Lainjon Lanat was offended
- I'm not taking No for an answer! Because now we will drink to the most important thing! For the cosmic friendship of the peoples of all the planets of the universe!
- Well, if for the friendship of the peoples of the planets, then I will drink it, - said Baltabalyk with a hiccup and drank the contents, emptying the garnished glass to the bottom. Lainjon Lanat too. After the third glass, Baltabalyk became completely intoxicated. He kept smiling, lazily making speeches. He laughed and giggled like a madman. After the fourth glass, he completely fell to the floor and fell asleep like a dead man. Lainjon Lanat too. Yakan ibn Khaqan sat for a long time at the window, thoughtfully looking at the snow, which was still falling in the darkness, where a blizzard was whistling, whirling snowflakes like white flies. Then, yawning widely, he also went to bed. They woke up in the afternoon, from a stupid knock on the door. Baltabalyk went to the door and opened it. A short, hunchbacked man with squinting eyes, thin as the mummies of the Egyptian pyramids, came into the office. He was holding a long and crooked staff with bells in his hands. The hunchback was yelling at Baltabalyk:
- What are you doing, Baltabalyk?! It's already twelve o'clock in the afternoon, and you're still asleep and still haven't turned on the sun!
- Sorry, sorry, Mr. Chief sorcerer-said Baltabalyk and hastily turned on the sun.
- I can't forgive you. You have caused great damage to the agriculture of our planet! The farmers were late with the sowing! Come on, write an application for your release from your post at your own request! The hunchbacked sorcerer ordered, rattling the bells that hung on his sleeve.
- Mr. Sorcerer... I won't be late anymore. Please don't kick me out of work. How am I going to feed my children without this job? My little son is barely 99 years old. I haven't been able to marry my 170-year-old daughter for so many years. I have to marry my son, who turned 300 years old. I am the only breadwinner in the family. If I lose my job, then my evil wife Matilda will kick me out of the cave. Where will I go then? Baltabalyk pleaded.
- No, you should have thought about it earlier! Write a statement and don't come here again if you don't want trouble! - said the hunchbacked sorcerer.
After these words, Baltabalyk had to vacate the room and they went outside. It was sunny outside and the snow was melting. The water gurgled and the streams flooded out. Larks were singing over the fields. Steam rose from the fields. The grass began to grow hastily right before their eyes. The trees have spread their leaves. Spring! But this did not please Yakan ibn Khaqan. Because poor Baltabalyk was kicked out of work because of them. If Baltabalyk had been sober, he would not have overslept.
- How will I live today? Now I'm finished, my alien friends. My wife will not let me into the cave - Baltabalyk sighed sadly.
- It"s nothing, cheer up, Mr. Baltabalyk! - Lainjon Lanat encouraged him.
- Fly with us to other galaxies and get married to beautiful humanoids there. Why do you need such a grumpy, harmful wife who does not respect you? It's very easy to find a job there. Get a job as a janitor and you will clean up nuclear waste, thoughtfully shuffling a broom in the predawn hour in deserted courtyards. Or you will open your own brothel, you will work as a pimp - said Lainjon Lanat.
Baltabalyk, looking sadly into the distance, said:
- I'll help you with the repair. But I can't fly with you, my earthlings friends. Because I love my home planet and I can't live without it, even if the sun is artificial! In a foreign land, I will simply wither, inconsolable longing for my planet, looking at it from afar through super-powerful telescopes! I was born in these parts, and I will die here, - Baltabalyk said.
- Don't make me laugh for God's sake, Baltabalyk! Don't be so naive. A man must be determined! Let's travel through the vast expanses of boundless space, while we are alive and well! Yakan ibn Khaqan will build a large factory there, where cotton will be processed.We will be engaged in the space business! From there, we will transport home on a caravan of flying saucers, cotton waste called "uvada", from which our compatriots sew coats, cotton blankets - blankets and other things. We'll get rich! Well, don't be sad... Spit on this planet, which underestimated you. Is this a planet!? You live damn, without even having a normal sun! Just tell me where these mechanics of yours are. As soon as we repair our flying saucer, we'll be on our way right away! The trumpet is calling! Lainjon Lanat said.
Baltabalyk kept his word by hiring repairmen and they repaired the aircraft. When the repairmen finished their work, Lainjon Lanat took another bottle of vodka from the glove compartment of the repaired flying saucer, which he hid and said:
- This case needs to be washed properly. We will drink to the mechanics on the hood of the flying saucer... When he started to open the bottle, Baltabalyk stopped him: - No, don't! Please don't open it! This drink of yours turns out to be very harmful to the human body. I only drank once and lost my job! I am afraid that I may lose my life a second time. No offense, but I will never drink this stuff again! - He swore.
Lainjon Lainat was offended: - Well, if you don't want to, we won't force you, - he said. Then he greedily gulped down the fiery-burning vodka several times, holding the bottle to his mouth like a pocket flask. After that, the three of them sat on the flying saucer and flew.
In order not to fall asleep during the flight, Lainjon Lanat began to talk.
-There are rumors that our hypersonic intercontinental cruise missiles with nuclear warheads are not weapons, but a slingshot in comparison with the weapons created by space terrorists of some galaxy, now, unfortunately, I do not remember the name.
They have invented a terrible reactor with which you can push one solar system against another. Then the whole universe will explode, can you imagine?! What kind of weapon is it? Lainjon Lanat said, looking through the monitor at the flying fragments of space rocks and at the stars. Then he continued, turning to Baltabalyk, who has a compact translator device powered by a solar battery.
- You know, Baltabalyk, the life that you have lived on your planet is not a life but a real nightmare! You did not live, your life was like an impersonation. Let's go to a place where happiness awaits us, there you will feel the taste of real life... - he said, wetting his throat with vodka along the way.
Then a small fragment of the cosmic mass hit the windshield of the flying saucer and Baltabalyk was scared: - Oh, damn! Beware, Yakan ibn Khaqan! Maybe you are tired of living, but I personally do not want to die!.. What a horror! - he said
- Yes, this is bullshit, compared to air funnels, similar to a concrete mixer, where countless fragments of meteorites, asteroids and comets rotate at breakneck speed! Lainjon Lanat tried to calm him down.
- Yes? Well, then I will forgive you to take me back home, dear earthlings, I do not want to die in vain in these God-forsaken places of the universe. Who knows, maybe there are intergalactic star warriors and humanoids that will shoot us down by opening fire from an anti-aircraft laser device. So come on, turn around -said Baltabalyk.
- What?! You coward! Who gave you the right to command here?! Why are you staring at me! Is he okay or something? - said Lainjon Lanat, who by this time was slightly drunk.Then, with all his might, he hit Baltabalik on the head with a bottle, shouting - Die, you brute!, and Baltabalik immediately lost consciousness and collapsed. Lainjon Lanat angrily wanted to throw him out of the flying saucer, but he was immediately stopped by Yakan ibn Khaqan. -What are you doing, you bastard, you psycho?! Do not open the hatch, the unit will depressurize! What have you done, you ungrateful creature?! He helped us! - Stop it! - he shouted.
- All right, Commander, calm down. Everything is fine. Well, I'm sorry, Yakan, that I overreacted. Well, with whom does this not happen? I just couldn't restrain myself - Lainjon Lanat asked for forgiveness with a lazy smile on his lips.
- You idiot! - said Yakan ibn Khaqan.
They flew for a long time. On the way, Baltabalyk woke up, but he did not remember anything. It turns out that he lost his memory. His eyes were empty, like a man who has lost interest in life.
After a grueling flight, the old flying saucer of Yakan ibn Khaqan finally arrived on the planet "Gurrabash ''. Yakan ibn Khaqan and his friends stopped at a hotel in the capital to have a good rest for a week or two. Lainjon Lainat, using a compact translator device belonging to Baltabalyk, talked to beautiful gurrabashkas who worked in an expensive hotel in the capital, intended for rich alien clients. They did not answer Lainjon Lanat's questions, only smiled amiably, taking his words for jokes. Baltabalyk, who had lost his memory, obediently followed Yakan ibn Khaqan, thoughtfully ate, drank, sat in silence, did not talk to anyone. Yakan ibn Hakan was negotiating with managers of large banks to sell his priceless goods, which he brought on his old flying saucer from the distant planet "Earth". Finally, he managed to sign contracts for the sale of goods on a barter basis, that is, to exchange dung for diamonds. His joy had no bounds. Yakan ibn Khaqan returned to his luxurious room in an expensive hotel, where poor Baltabalyk was still sitting in silence, looking out of the wide window with a misty gaze at the street. Lainjon Lanat disappeared for days with an attractive gurrabashka.
Yakan ibn Hakan, wanted to turn on the TV, then kick, and he found himself in a light trap, similar to an inverted plastic cup. Then he heard voices. - Mr. Alien Yakan ibn Hakan, you are under arrest on suspicion of murdering a gurrabash named Bitbyldyk and stealing his time machine of a new modification. Hearing this, Yakan ibn Khaqan turned his eyes from fear and surprise.
-What are you saying?! What kind of murder?! What kind of hijacking?! I do not know who this Bitbyldyk is! This is some kind of misunderstanding! I demand that this masquerade be stopped immediately! You have no right to arrest me! This is a setup! Meanness! I am an honest businessman and I came here only to sell priceless dung! I will complain to the Intergalactic Court! He shouted, standing in the police light trap like a parrot in a cage.
Soon he was tried and on the basis of the verdict of the jury, the court sentenced him to life imprisonment, with confiscation of property.
- The convicted alien, Mr. Yakan ibn Hakan, will serve his sentence as a particularly dangerous criminal in a correctional concentration camp located on the planet "Earth", the judge said.
Hearing this, Yakan ibn Khaqan even laughed, thinking about what fools these gurrabashes are, who send me to their home planet, where they love and appreciate me.There is a fair President of the country and the writers ' union at the very least.They will protect me, free me from prison. They will award me with orders and medals, give me an apartment with a country house, where I will write my exciting novels in the deserted silence.
A day later, according to a court decision, Yakan ibn Hakan was sent by stage to the planet "Earth", in a police-era spaceplane, which flew through space at breakneck speed with a heart-rending siren wail.
Yakan ibn Khaqan was sitting in the spaceport, with invisible handcuffs on his hands, looking at the police, who were silently flying in a chemical protection suit.
- Idiots-Yakan ibn Khaqan grinned.
Finally, the spaceplane landed and the police, carefully opening the lower hatch, pushed out the convicted Yakan ibn Khaqan. Thus, after delivering him to his destination, they flew back.
When he began to suffocate from the smoke, Yakan ibn Khaqan, with fear, thought that the Gurrabashs had deceived him by throwing him not to his native planet "Earth" but to a completely different planet, where there was nothing to breathe.
He looked around in surprise. Because this planet was foggy and only ruins caught the eye through this fog. There were no trees or grasses. The ground was covered with gray ash.. The same ash was flying in the air, like dandruff from unkempt hair. The Gurrabashi have deceived me , he thought with fear. It became even harder for him to breathe. Just at this time, he saw a man in an oxygen mask and asked him breathlessly: - Excuse me, sir, is this the planet "Earth"?
A passerby looked at him in surprise through the glass of a gas mask, then answered: - Yes.
Yakan ibn Khaqan continued: - I don't recognize anything here. Where are the houses, the trees? There are ruins all around. Why is it difficult to breathe here? Ash and fog are everywhere.
"Did you fall off the moon or something?" Where were you when the Third World War broke out? A year ago, such a war thundered on earth, and you did not know. Strange. You probably got a concussion along with the radiation. - said the man with a gas mask on his head, resembling an elephant with a trunk.
With these words, he began to leave. Yakan ibn Khaqan hurriedly caught up with him and asked: - Sir, I'm suffocating from lack of air. Can you tell me where I can get oxygen? Help me for God's sake. The man with the gas mask stopped when he heard the name of God.
- There, you see, there is a green booth around the bend, where it says H2O at the top. Here, go there and buy yourself oxygen, - he said.
Thanking him, Yakan ibn Khaqan ran to where he was pointing. There, in the booth, he saw a man also with a gas mask on his face. On the shelves were oxygen bottles with a mask of various sizes.
"Hello, Mr. Salesman," said Yakan ibn Khaqan.
- Hi, what do you want? - the seller said.
- Oxygen! I want oxygen! It's hard to breathe! - Yakan ibn Khaqan said, gasping for breath.
- Do you have any money? - the salesman asked.
- No. I'll bring it to you today. Give me a loan for now. Well, for God's sake, please-he begged.
- No, for God's sake, I can't. But if for the sake of our irreplaceable, highly respected president of the country, then I can give it - the seller said.
- Well, give it at least for the sake of the president of the country-said Yakan ibn Khakan. The seller wrote down the name and surname of Yakan ibn Khaqan in the debtors ' notebook, then gave him an oxygen canister with a mask. Yakan ibn Khaqan took a canister and, putting on an oxygen mask, began to suffocate even more. His eyes were squinting from lack of oxygen. Then, looking at the can, he saw the inscription "Carbonate dioxide". The salesman was laughing, shaking his shoulders. That's when Yakan ibn Khaqan only found out about the vile seller.

It was Lainjon Lanat.

11: 54 p.m.
Canada, Ontario.

eb23ebae4e2f0a5747a3836a73a792433eb756231883193 (700x510, 39Kb)


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