Does your ears hang low song
Do Your Ears Hang Low - Kids Environment Kids Health
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Two versions are shown below.
Version 1
Do your ears hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?
Can you tie them in a knot?
Can you tie them in a bow?
Can you throw them o'er your shoulder
like a continental soldier?
Do your ears hang low?
Do your ears hang high?
Do they reach up to the sky?
Do they droop when they are wet?
Do they stiffen when they're dry?
Can you semaphore your neighbour
with a minimum of labour?
Do your ears hang high?
Do your ears flip-flop?
Can you use them for a mop?
Are they stringy at the bottom?
Are they curly at the top?
Can you use them for a swatter?
Can you use them for a blotter?
Do your ears flip-flop?
Do your ears hang out?
Can you waggle them about?
Can you flip them up and down
as you fly around the town?
Can you shut them up for sure
when you hear an awful bore?
Do your ears hang out?
Version 2
Do your ears hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?
Can you tie them in a knot?
Can you tie them in a bow?
Can you throw them o'er your shoulder
like a Continental Soldier?
Do your ears hang low?
Does your tongue hang down?
Does it flop all around?
Can you tie it in a knot?
Can you tie it in a bow?
Can you throw it o'er your shoulder
like a Continental Soldier?
Does your tongue hang down?
Does your nose hang low?
Does it wiggle to and fro?
Can you tie it in a knot?
Can you tie it in a bow?
Can you throw it o'er your
shoulder like a Continental Soldier?
Does your nose hang low?
Do your eyes pop out?
Do they bounce all about?
Can you tie them in a knot?
Can you tie them in a bow?
Can you throw them o'er your shoulder
like a Continental Soldier?
Do your eyes pop out?
Do your eyeballs droop
do they wobble in your soup
can you tie them in a loop
can you wind them on a hoop
do your eyeballs droop!
The following verses are copyright 1998 by Lawrence, Ann, Benjamin, and Katherine Sulky
Do your ears stretch wide? Do they reach from side to side?
Can you use them as a parachute
or wings that let you glide?
Can you cast a cooling shadow
over most of Colorado?
Do your ears stretch wide?
Are your ears too big? Are they heavy as a pig?
Do they bruise your cerebellum
when you dance an Irish jig?
Can they function as the anchors
for a fleet of oil tankers?
Are your ears too big?
Are your ears real small? Barely visible at all?
Do they look just like two peanuts stuck onto a bowling ball?
Can you store them in a thimble when you're feeling rather nimble?
Are your ears real small?
Are your ears quite clean? Do they have a lovely sheen?
Did you harvest all the vegetables that grow down in between?
Did you wash out all the soil after all your farming toil?
Are your ears quite clean?
Are your ears so thin? Do the breezes make 'em spin?
Can you shine a light right through them like the finest onionskin?
Can you wrap up a salami? Do they fold like origami?
Are your ears so thin?
For parents
Ear infections cause babies and children much distress, even when they cannot explain their symptoms. Learn about the warning signs and what you can do to help your child from the National Institute on Deafness and Other Communications Disorders.
For kids
It’s a noisy world out there! Traffic, music, the TV blaring—and more. Learn how you can protect your hearing from the NIH program it's a Noisy Planet.
For teachers
How does the brain understand what the ear hears? Teach your middle‐school students about the multisensory process of human communication, as well as the fundamentals of sound and how to prevent hearing loss with this module from the National Institute on Deafness and Other Communication Disorders (NIDCD).
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The Tune: view video
Lyrics:
Do your ears hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?
Can you tie them in a knot?
Can you tie them in a bow?
Can you throw them over your shoulder like a continental soldier?
Do your ears hang low?
Do your ears hang high?
Do they reach up to the sky?
Do they droop when they're wet?
Do they stiffen when they're dry?
Can you semaphore your neighbor with a mimimum of labor?
Do your ears hang high?
Do your ears hang wide?
Do they flap from side to side?
Do they wave in the breeze?
From the slightest little sneeze?
Can you soar above the nation with a feeling of elation?
Do your ears hang wide?
Do your ears flip-flop?
Can you use them for a mop?
Are they stringy at the bottom?
Are they curly at the top?
Can you use them for a swatter?
Can you use them for a blotter?
Do your ears flip-flop?
Do your ears hang askew?
Can you use one stirring stew,
while the other's picking berries,
or making mountain dew?
Can you hold an elevator,
while you signal to a waiter?
Do your ears hang askew?
Do your ears fall off?
When you give a great big cough?
Do they lie there on the ground?
Or bounce up at every sound?
Can you stick them in your pocket like little Davy Crockett?
Do your ears fall off?
Do your eyeballs droop?
Do they wobble in your soup?
Can you tie them in a knot?
Can you tie them in a loop?
Can you throw them o'er your shoulder,
Like a continental soldier?
Do your eyeballs droop?
Does your nose hang down?
Does it drag upon the ground?
Can you tie it in a knot?
Can you tie it in a crown?
Can you throw it over your shoulder,
Like a continental soldier?
Does your nose hang down?
Do your eyes bug out?
Do they roll around your snout?
Do you go cross-eyed,
When you're looking for a trout?
Can you see your image clearer,
Without looking in the mirror?
Do your eyes bug out?
Click one to vote:
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BoyScoutTrail.comAbout Turkey in 47 Facts
Traveler Tanya Handel spent three months in Turkey, passing it entirely from east to west. Throughout November, she lived among Turkish students in Cappadocia and managed to notice many interesting features about the people and the country. Tanya shares her observations about who the Turks are and how they live with 34travel.
1. Here it is customary to take off your shoes before entering the house, so each apartment has a real shoe store and, interestingly, no one will steal shoes! Why take up extra space in the apartment and pollute it, the Turks say, if there is plenty of space for shoes on the landing?
2. Turkish cuisine is one of the best! You can’t just pick up and stop eating – so you have to walk a lot! Both men and women are excellent cooks. Moreover, in modern families they are engaged in cooking “in a European way” - whoever comes home from work first, cooks.
3. It is impossible to imagine a day without a glass of tea, but what is there a glass - such a good teapot. Even dubious fans of teas will drink it there three or four times a day. Moreover, it is customary to drink tea not after a meal, but during or just like that. By the way, making tea is a separate issue. This is not just a bag of boiling water for you to pour. A whole book can be written about this process - except that the Chinese have become more sophisticated.
4. Men call each other "kanka" all the time, which means something like "bro." And this is how they address both close friends and just acquaintances, from whom you need something and you show increased respect. Appeal so only to equal in age.
5. After a couple of visits to the store, you know the name of the seller, and he knows your name. “Would you like some bread, milk and a bag of tangerines (at € 0.25 per kilo!), as usual?” - will always cheer you up in the morning.
6. Turks are very fond of using the very useful word "very": very beautiful, very good (çok güzel, çok iyi). They explain this by the fact that by nature they are extremely emotional and just words to describe them are always not enough.
7. The most common word in the language is güzel. Universal word! It means good, and tasty, and beautiful. And the girl guzel, and the weather guzel, and baklava guzel, and everything in general guzel. Guzel country!
8. The expression “garbage recycling” here causes big eyes and misunderstanding of what is happening. In Turkey, no one cares about separating waste.
9. Each purchase (even in a package) is put in a bag for you and at the exit in one big bag. Maybe even two! If you buy only bread and milk, you will receive three packages. All this is free in any store and market. And of course they also have a special bag for bags in the kitchen.
10. In Turkish there is no division into “he” and “she”. It is possible to understand that we are talking about a man or a woman only on the basis of the name or polite addresses like “miss” and “sir”.
11. Wherever you go, you will see a portrait of Atatürk, the father of the Turkish people. And not alone. After Allah, he is in an honorable second place, and for the unbelievers, even in the first.
12. The main unspoken rule about Atatürk is not to say anything bad about Atatürk. In no case!
13. Over time, you get used to seeing yogurt not as a dessert, but as a normal addition to food. Anyone, even soup. And the Turks claim that it was they who invented it about 1500 years ago. The usual sweet fruit yogurt is also sold here, but it is not very popular and is not as cheap as the plain one.
14. Gradually you get used to the sounds of adhan - the call to prayer, and this music from mosques stops waking you up at night.
Although at first waking up at night will be a dubious pleasure.
15. Only one style of road crossing is accepted and successfully works here - “kamikaze-style”. The bottom line is that you need to run across in a matter of centimeters from flying cars. Zebras, traffic lights? What's this?
16. There is a Turkish flag hanging in your room. All other rooms too. There is no apartment in Turkey without the Turkish flag, as well as a shop, a shop, and even more so a state institution. If suddenly there is no flag in the room, it means that it hangs in our hearts, the Turks say.
17. Instead of "ok" they say the local "tamam" here.
18. When you meet, you hug everyone and kiss your cheeks three times. Men and women - it doesn't matter, they love to smack here.
19. On the street, it is quite possible to meet two guys walking hand in hand: men here express their friendship in this way and easily hug each other and kiss on the cheek.
At the same time, it is considered indecent to show great tenderness to each other on the streets. The maximum is to hold hands and smack on the cheeks. In Istanbul, morals, of course, are not so strict.
20. Olives, cheese, scrambled eggs, yogurt - the standard breakfast of any rogue. Even if you are a student and the wind is walking in your pocket, these holy foods will always be in your refrigerator. Then you already eat pasta like a normal person.
21. In Turkish there is an unusual expression "to drink a cigarette". The verb "içmek" means both "drink" and "smoke" at the same time, because the Turks do not have a separate word for smoking, so "let's go have a drink" will be a mystery to you - will you get a glass of water or a hookah?
22. Although alcohol is not banned in the country, it is so expensive that drinking a can of beer with friends comes out in a good amount.
Is that the local "Efes" is not so affordable, and even then in big cities. A good local wine in Cappadocia starts from € 6.
23. All this baklava, kunefe and other Turkish delights are also very expensive.
24. After eating in a more or less decent establishment, you always expect wet wipes with a very pronounced aroma of lemon cologne along with the bill. They even have a special name - "colony".
25. There are a lot of common words in our languages - shower, sofa, hat, vase, ticket. And even a cishotka and a sack. And there are similar-sounding words with different meanings: a woman in Turkish means father (with an emphasis on the second “a”), a mess is a glass, a button accordion is a woman, a tavern is a pumpkin, a brick is straw, a fist is an ear, tobacco is a plate and a barn - castle! And "Baran" is a completely ordinary and not at all funny male name.
26.
In Turkish there is a cool word "nazlanmak", in Russian there is no analogue, but it means to pretend to be indifferent when in fact something really worries you. Saying "no" when you really want to say "yes". Such passion!
27. Refined sugar is ubiquitous, and in cafes each cube is most often packed in a separate piece of paper. Here with the usual bulk can be a problem. And you can’t find beets in the whole country, so you can’t make borscht here.
28. If you bite into a kebab, you might find french fries inside!
29. Turks' favorite pastime is to play backgammon while drinking tea. This is how hours can pass.
30. Turks are very fond of singing and many have naturally good voices. And they sing often - cooking, cleaning the house, sitting at the table and, of course, in the shower.
31. Any foreigner who knows at least half a word of Turkish immediately evokes emotion and joy.
One “merhab” (“hello”) is enough to make you smile all day long. In general, foreigners are treated kindly here, they always try to help (but this may not be so pronounced in the most touristic places).
32. Kurds - a people living in Eastern Turkey, often from mountainous and inaccessible regions of the country, causes hostility here, albeit hidden.
33. Outwardly, the Turks are very different from each other: from dark brunettes with swarthy skin, as we used to imagine them, to fair-skinned blondes, whom even the Turks themselves often mistake for Europeans.
34. A special object of male pride in the generation over 45 is a mustache. As soon as the uncle begins to turn gray, he immediately grows a dashing mustache and is considered handsome.
35. Turks highly value friendship and will do anything for a friend. The most important thing is the parents.
Turks are self-critical and have a good sense of humor. Moreover, the blacker and sarcastic the joke, the more it is appreciated. Black humor rules in Turkey.
37. Turks are quite polite in dealing with each other, especially in small towns. And they are very fond of exchanging phrases, standing together in line or waiting for the green light of a traffic light.
38. Turks are extremely proud of their hospitality, and a traveler here can easily be invited to visit at least to drink tea.
39.
39. Here they love plump girls, in Turkey there is a saying that describes the beauty of a woman: “She was so beautiful that she had to turn around to enter the door.”
40. Almost all men smoke, women less often, but also do not shun. Hookahs are ubiquitous here.
41. All rumors that Slavic girls in Turkey are considered girls of "easy virtue" are not greatly exaggerated.
Therefore, girls named Natasha will have to somehow hide their name.
42. In small towns and traditional families, toilet water is still preferred over toilet paper.
43. Most of the women do not cover their heads, but recently a fashion for headscarves has appeared among young people, which is not connected with religion. At the same time, another light and fluffy scarf is placed under the scarf, which creates the effect of a huge head. This is considered beautiful.
44. Shoe shiners can be found in Istanbul, and this is not a tourist attraction.
45. At the entrance to almost every city there is a huge sculpture associated with the main occupation in this city. For example, pitchers are made in Avanos, so there is a huge jug there. And in front of Fetia is a giant tangerine, it is here that they are grown.
46. On the streets of seaside towns, especially in the evening, sellers of mussels in trays climb out.
Give me a couple of lire, and they will put a couple of shells on a cardboard box and pour lemon over this business.
47. There are more ancient Greek theaters in Turkey than in Greece! Just drive south and go, drive around these theaters.
Photo: unsplash.com
Stories of the finalists of the second season of the competition
Dudko Maria. Keys
So... Tick... So...
The voice of the old grandfather clock from the hallway already met me, but I could not open the door. Well, where are these keys?... Really lost? Only this was not enough, and so the day did not work out!.. Ah, no, that's it...
The clock struck eight when I stepped onto the creaky parquet in the hallway. How I missed the quietness of my apartment! I just wanted to fall apart on a shabby sofa, and lie there until the morning ... But instead, I trudged to the computer. While the old unit, inherited from the dinosaurs, turned on, I made myself coffee.
Today you will need more than one mug. Article for the night, and inspiration from gulkin's nose. They also threaten to make layoffs at work. You can not delay, otherwise the dismissal cannot be avoided. And it would not be bad to update the blog, otherwise the last subscribers will soon scatter. Eh…
I worked in the editorial office of a magazine that was in demand in our district, and in the city in general. The editor - Fedot Stepanovich - always put only the best into print.
The best. Yes. It means not me. For some reason, lately my writing has not been impressive at all. Even myself. Honestly, not surprised. It looks like I've lost the spark, like there was nothing to write about. It's kind of funny: I live in a metropolis, where something happens every day, but I look into the void. Other people's problems ceased to excite, everyone here is a drop in the ocean. So my news is gray, alien, distant and unnecessary, in general, to no one.
What did I write about? As I then still thought, about the important.
About eternal, to some extent. I noticed that the people around were so closed that they seemed to stop seeing each other, let alone feel and understand. Everyone at some point withdraws into himself and loses the key to the door he entered. Locks up the heart. Puts on a mask. Indifferent. And silently walks along the gray stones of the pavement...
I just wanted to be heard... I thought I would become the key to the world on this side of the mask. I will help those in need with my word, I will teach people to listen and hear, I will save the world... But it seems that something went wrong. And now... Now I don't even know how to save myself. So in response I get the cry of tearing paper and the famous last warning from the lips of Fedot Stepanych. Last chance. Tomorrow I will not come with a sensation - that's it. Well... It looks like it's time to forget about your reasoning for a while and plunge into the world of human intrigues. Write what will be read. What is expected of me.
No not like this. What do you expect from an article in our magazine.
What are the stone jungles talking about these days? What is the wind of change carrying along their paved paths? The most discussed topic was a series of strange deaths, however, as is usually the case. For a long time now, criminals taken into custody have been dying one after another. The most different: from simple pickpockets to almost murderers, adults and still teenagers of fourteen years. Most of them haven't even been sentenced yet. And they all have the same diagnosis - poisoning. What is still a mystery. This happened with some frequency in different parts of the city, but most often in our police department. And, by pure chance, none other than my older brother, officer Yuri Diskarin, worked there.
How I could use his help now... But no. My brother and I don't get along. And they never got along. It just so happened ... Probably, we are just too different. Yurik is secretive, distrustful.
He never told me anything, he preferred to do everything himself, and I felt that he did not need me at all. I must have been a little jealous of my brother. He is successful, just the pride of the family, and I grab the last chance to stay at work.
...I'm grabbing my last chance to stay at work. Although ... You can try to find out about the high-profile case first hand, so to speak. This, for sure, would interest Fedot Stepanych, but he would have to turn to his brother for help. Yeah ... And once again become a loser in the eyes of a whole family. Hell no! Even for the sake of work, I will not ask for the help of this person!
Well, nothing. I prepared, collected materials, now I will write and saved! I manage myself. If only I could make it until the morning…
GO!!!
The sound took me by surprise. It was a signal that the factory was over, from the old watch in the corridor. The matter is fixable. I got up, went to the clock, opened the lid and reached for the key with a familiar gesture. Only the key was missing. What's the strange thing? In my house, I valued order, but such incidents simply unsettled ... What should I do now, look for this lost key? Looks like I'll have to...
Casting a sad glance at the computer, I began to remember where I could put this old piece of iron. So I have already climbed several shelves, looked into the boxes and ...
What is this? There was an envelope in the dresser. And, if I was ready to see the key to the winding mechanism among the socks, with my absent-mindedness, then there’s no strange message at all. Although, maybe I'm too naive? Oh, I don't like it all...
Naturally, I opened the envelope and immediately recognized Yurik's handwriting.
"I'm not sure I wasn't followed. Check your mail. I never forgot your birthday!
Yu.»
What are the jokes? I knew that it was necessary to take away the keys from him when he moved in! Wait, there's something on the back...
"KeyHole4u. .."
I ran my eyes over the hastily written lines again. The text seemed devoid of meaning and meant nothing to me.
What is he? For henbane, it seems, it’s not the season ... Just in case, I checked the calendar and made sure that my birthday is not today and not even in the coming days. The only thing that made sense was to check your email.
What am I doing with my time? Before my hand could close the text editor, a window popped up asking if I really wanted to do it. Here, even it mocks...
One letter actually arrived in the mail. So, why is Yurik doing this: invading my house with a strange note and tweeting on the Internet at the same time? After all, isn't it easier to call? Of course, I would not jump with delight when something would make our little star descend to mere mortals, but why reinvent the wheel?
So I thought as I sipped my cold coffee while waiting for the text to load. Finally, the following lines loomed before my eyes:
“Hello, Egor.
I know you'll be surprised by my letter, but I wouldn't bother you if it wasn't really serious. I wanted to call, but my new phone didn't have your number. My number hasn't changed, if you're interested...
Let's get down to business. We need to talk. But the conversation must be face to face. Come today at nine at the intersection of Pskovskaya and Myasnaya, there, in the courtyard of house 26, I will be waiting for you.
It's about a series of prisoner deaths. Correction, about a series of murders... I thought it might interest you, I'll explain everything when we meet, if, of course, you show up... your guilt. But I ask you to believe me one single time. You are my last key to hope. I expect you to read this letter and come.
Your brother Yuri Diskarin
Hmm...
Everything is more and more wonderful, as the heroine of a famous fairy tale used to say...
I re-read the message several times to make sure that I really stopped understanding anything.
Except, perhaps, for the fact that some kind of mystery lies in this whole affair, and Yurka for me now is the key to all answers. Besides, since he himself calls me to talk, I will not fail to interview the lead investigator ... Unless, of course, this is a stupid attempt at a joke ... But it is unlikely that he would write to me for fun.
And what, now it's raining again, right?.. But he came home! Okay, I’ll figure it out quickly, and I’ll have another six hours for the article ... I glanced at the clock, belatedly remembering that this was pointless. Another advertising message comes to the phone, helpfully suggesting that I need to go out if I want to be in time for a meeting. Having extinguished the monitor that had just woken up and abruptly grabbed my raincoat, which had not yet dried out after a day's walk, I jumped out into the entrance.
Only at the car I hesitated a little. Isn't it too easy for me to fit in? Just a couple of minutes ago, I was sure that for the sake of my brother I would not lift an eyebrow, and for my own sake I would not mess with him.
What did this message do to me?
It filled me with a sense of self-importance. Finally, something depended on me, on me alone! Probably, I was driven by the desire to prove that I was worth something ... But I didn’t want to admit such motives. From this, an incomprehensible annoyance settled in my head, but I stubbornly explained it only by the spent time taken away from writing the article.
Stopping at the appointed place, I looked at my watch. Another full five minutes ... It was possible to leave later, although ... as if it would give me something. Around no one like Yuri.
An unpleasant, vile fog reigned in the street. I hid from him in the car.
The sun has long since set behind the clouds, and the city has lit its fires. Lanterns, not stars. I sometimes thought about how this noisy world lacked stars. Each of them is unique, even though there are billions of them in the darkness of the sky. It's the same with people, isn't it? But we almost purposely forget about that, therefore we hide from condemning burning looks from the depths of the immense.
And just now the thought flashed through my head: how often do I myself think about others? It would seem that constantly ...
I digressed from philosophical reflections to look at the time. Five minutes. There was no one even humanoid in sight, the yard was empty.
Ten... I'm checking my phone, mail. Not a line about being late.
Twenty! No, it's not serious anymore! I shouldn't have come... Nervously dialing a number, preparing a scathing speech. In response, only long beeps are heard. Okay... Let's wait... You never know. He's got a job too... Trying to calm down seems to be working until I remember that damned article never started! Where the hell are these fools?!
"I'm waiting another fifteen minutes and I'm leaving" - I angrily type a message and press "Send" furiously.
Time is running out and the message has not even been read! Twenty-five minutes... thirty... Still silence. There is no point in waiting any longer.
To clear my conscience, I call again.
A melodious female voice is heard from the handset:
- The device of the called subscriber is turned off or is out of network coverage ... - the lady says, slowly repeating the phrase in English.
- Damn you! .. - hissing irritably, I throw the phone on the next seat. - So... Okay... I warned you, I waited... waited longer than promised. Now you can go home with a clear conscience.
Looking down the road, I was surprised to find that I was not so much angry as nervous. It pissed me off even more…
***
There was less and less time left for work, and I continued to pace the apartment. Usually such a calm creak of the floorboards now mocked my poor hearing with all its might. It was by no means the article that occupied my thoughts, despite the fact that they would not forgive me if I screwed up such material...
Minutes passed slowly. I felt them even without the usual ticking of the clock. OK. I will be frank with myself, because my strength is no more, and then to work! All this is strange! What exactly? That I couldn't get through.
Yura does not turn off the phone and diligently monitors its charge, he should always be in touch, should I, as a brother, know about this. Also this line from that note, it is no coincidence that it is the very first ...
So... don't panic. What the hell is this blockhead in general so businesslike settled in my head?! Anything happens. Everything! Article. Only an article.
By an effort of will, I managed to sit down in front of the monitor and even write a couple of lines before I again plunged into thought. And yet... what could have happened?..
***
The days raced by like clockwork, but not mine. I never found the key, and I haven’t tried, to be honest, since that evening. They froze, showing half past nine, as if that day had not yet passed. I didn't show up for work the next morning. I don’t believe it myself... how could I put everything on the altar for the sake of a person whom I was mortally envious of, whose disappearance I dreamed of... the one whom I had known all my life and with whom I was still connected invisibly?!.
.
And the apartment! Oh... if the old me had seen what my temple of comfort had turned into... however, he would have shot himself right away, leaving behind only the gloomy aesthetics of a broken creator... All the tables were cluttered with dirty mugs and fast food packages. The entire floor is full of shoe marks. Here and there were meticulously compiled lists of those with whom my brother could communicate, where he could go, who could wish him harm...
But none of that mattered anymore...
“- Yegor Diskarin? - I heard a calm male voice from my phone this morning.
- Yes. I answered nervously.
- The police are bothering you - my heart threatened to break my chest. It must be from stress and lack of sleep ... And in the meantime, in my head: "If only they could find ...".
- Your brother was found today at noon, - a slight pause, as if to realize what was said, - He is dead. The circumstances of death are being investigated.
- just as calmly, as if nothing had happened, the man on the other end of the wire continues. - We offer our condolences. Today you should come to the department ... "
Followed by instructions and occasional questions to which I answered things like “yes”, “no” and “understood”. Be afraid of your desires. Found...
I spent the next half day in the same department. Some papers, some formalities, a funeral... And a conversation.
From that conversation I learned something that struck me. Yura was suspect. They said that he killed the prisoners by slipping poison into their food or something like that. There was not much evidence, so they only planned to arrest him, but now the main version of my brother's death is suicide during an attempt to escape from justice. What heresy… But at that moment I could not object anything. Exactly like believing even a single word.
And now I'm back in my home again. Devastated, with only one thought in his head: “he is no more”…
What are words? A set of letters, a set of sounds, nothing more.
.. But some become keys. This key with three heavy teeth will open one of the most terrible doors: the door of despair and pain. Maybe I should have phrased it a little more bluntly? But as? What would it change? There is only one key, no matter how you decorate it, and there is only one door, and you are standing on the threshold. You can't go back. And the castle succumbed. Started...
I look around the apartment with a detached look, slowly falling into a rage.
- Damn! - comes out of the chest. How long have I not uttered this word, - Damn! - I repeat louder, clasping my hands sharply. My whole army of mugs is flying down to the sound of glass. A blanket of scribbled sheets covers them from above.
- Dunce! Brat! Freak! I scream, not remembering myself.
- Look... Look what you've done, you bastard! I lost everything because of you! Inspiration! Work! Dreams! How can I pay my bills now? I've wasted so much time on you, damn it, even the key to the clock.
.. - the silence hurt my ears, so I continued to throw empty phrases, trying to throw out everything that had accumulated inside me. My voice broke, growled and wheezed, turned into hysterical laughter, and I didn’t even understand why I was so angry ... At myself?
Yes... I was jealous of my brother in black! The pride of the family, a great future, office authority, lofty goals, a dream job - everything I wanted to hear about myself, I heard about Yurashi! I remained his little brother, always second, always underestimated. It was an axiom that everything was easy for him. But for some reason it did not occur to me that we were actually brothers. Our conditions were the same. And I seemed to be blind, I did not see what he had to go through. And what did I do when I got tired of being a shadow? Exactly. He erected that very wall, the wall of indifference. I didn't care. And there is one more drop in the ocean. It was not Yura who closed himself off from me, but I from him. And what did it lead to? “He is no more,” and I can’t even say with certainty that I’m not the brother of the killer! And all because I don't know! I don’t know how he lived all these years, I don’t know what was going on in his soul, I don’t know if he called me to stop the rumors in the bud, or to repent of what he had done even a little to his own creature, albeit such a vile one, how I .
.. And I will probably never know, my key to this secret is forever lost ... What a blockhead I am ... What are all my arguments about feelings, words, stars, but all about the same keys worth now! How could I have changed the world when I myself could not find those vices for which I reproached mankind?! That's why my articles weren't being read. When changing the world, start with yourself, otherwise everything is empty words. Gray, alien, distant and unnecessary, in general, no one ... Such words will not become keys ... Keys ... I return to them over and over again. Oh, this world is really crazy about them! We have the keys to everything, they are even where we don’t think to find them, because they have entered our lives so deeply that everything now rests on them alone, and we don’t even notice. Yes, and life itself is like a constant picking of locks! But even that is not important. The important thing is that there is no key leading from There. This is what gives meaning to all other keys.
No matter how hard I try, I won't start Yurik's time again like the old clock. But who knows from what doors, I would have taken him away, if only I was there ... It's a pity, I realized it too late ...
- I'll never sit down to write again... - I said to myself, almost delirious, barely recognizing my own hoarse voice. After that, I fell asleep and didn’t think about anything anymore.
***
I spent the next day almost without getting up. Only in the evening I somehow tried to eliminate the consequences of my yesterday's insanity ... But the attempt was nipped in the bud, as soon as the very note that I found among the socks caught my eye ... Surprisingly, all the time while I was busy looking for my brother, I almost did not remember her, as a thing that does not carry any meaning in itself. But there were so many questions connected with it! I re-read it. As expected, nothing new appeared ... And yet ... Why was she needed?
I immersed myself in the memory of the day when I lost the key to the clock, which was so silent for the last week.
.. It seems that since that time I have not turned on the computer... How is it, my old man?
The legacy of the ancestors, as expected, grumbled and buzzed at my long absence, but in the end they had mercy and opened my e-mail page for me. Yurik's letter has not disappeared anywhere. I didn't reread it. One thing is a note with unclear text, and another is an invitation to a meeting that was not destined to take place ...
"Check your mail..." echoed in my ears. The sudden realization made me jump. What if... This strange text on the back is nothing but a username?..
What nonsense... I'm chasing again, I don't know what... Stupid assumption! But my hands can't be stopped...
Hastily logging out of my account, I typed the characters into the appropriate box. But you need a password... Password... Another stupid thought... "I never forgot your birthday!" I enter.
Only one digit changed on the monitor, but I didn't believe it. This eternity could not last for one miserable minute.
- It worked... - I said, looking into this luminous box in a frenzy. Another account. And only one letter.
The entire apartment fell into absolute silence as I read what was written here.
“Egor, I knew that you would solve my message! Help out, brother! I need you, we all need you!
For several months now I have been busy with the death of several criminals in custody. These are not just deaths, Yegor, these are murders. I'm sure I got very close to the solution. I have two prime suspects. But there's a problem. Both of them are my work colleagues. And I don't know if any of them acted alone or in concert. In other words, I don't know who in the police force I can trust with regards to this case.
Also, I notice that I am being watched. Apparently, the attacker feels that I got too close, and will soon try to eliminate me. Well, that's what I use to pinpoint the culprit. How? I told one of us about our upcoming meeting.
If I guessed right, and he's not a criminal, then you don't have to read this, I'll tell you everything myself. But, if I made a mistake, and you are still reading this, then most likely I am already dead ...
Brother, now only you can solve this case. And only you can I trust him. To this letter I will attach documents in which my evidence is collected, there you will find the details of the plan, all the names, all the evidence. Publish them in your journal, let everyone know, and then the villains will have nowhere to go! I hope for you. I know you won't let me down..."0304
For some reason, my heart skipped a beat. Brother... I won't let you down!
***
Never say never. For the next few days, I did not let go of the keyboard. I know, I promised myself, for writing, no, no, but the last, last time! For Yurik! This will be my best article...
And it really became the best. Where did I get it from? Just my blog would not be enough for such an important mission.
So I had to visit Fedot Stepanovich. I almost begged him on my knees to read my work. But he still read it. Read it and put it on the first page!
A few days later I had to go to our police station again. There, of course, there are again formalities, thanks, apologies ... But they did not interest me. He was arrested. I wanted to talk to him. With a killer. I wanted to look into his eyes. For help in solving the case, I was even allowed to do so.
I was taken to a special room. He sat opposite me and froze with his cold gaze. But there was nothing in the eyes... He was... Empty. However, the first one spoke.
- Because I saw how souls died, - he answered my question before I had time to ask it, - Every criminal who was brought here did not set foot on this path from a good life. The world has treated them cruelly. It's wild, but for some, crime is still a way to survive. Not for everyone... But I didn't talk to everyone. Do you know why? Because they don't listen, you know? And when I talked to them in this very room, they just wanted to be heard .
.. And I listened to them, watching how the eyes on the contrary go out, and how hopelessness penetrates into the very heart. They had not yet been sentenced, but they no longer believed that something could be changed. Outcasts of humanity. They could only hide in themselves and wait for the end. Then I gave them the key to freedom. An ampoule with poison, as the end of all torment. You won't understand, must be...
- And now, being in their place, would you like the same? I asked quietly. My interlocutor was silent. And I continued, - Do you know why? Because there is no key from there. And while you're alive, you can still fix it...
We talked with him for a while, and then I went outside. It was already getting dark and the lights were on. The downpour threw fragments of stars right under my feet, and they flared for a moment with earthly human light, breaking on the wet asphalt. I silently walked along the gray stones of the pavement, finally throwing off my indifferent mask.
Raindrops on my cheeks from something became salty. His image stood before my eyes. Indifference. The way I saw him once on Bolotnaya Square - not seeing, not hearing, impregnable. The source of human vices. I wanted to run away from him, and I even ran, as if it could help. God! Who would have known that it hurts so much to open your heart to the world! The dialogue with the murderer still sounded in his thoughts, and his brother's voice echoed in his soul. But, if you were already hiding from all this behind a wall of indifference, then only after going through this pain you can go back, again know the truth. Insults, murders, wars... How many more lives will be shed before each of us conquers this evil in ourselves? The hearts of the people are closed and the key is lost. But what can I do?..
I thought about it already at the entrance, slowly going up the stairs. Perhaps... No, but I promised myself... And yet...
Keys. I could turn words into keys. I could write again.
