Bahtiyar Hidayet, Azerbaijan
I am in the store. In the history books, my name, which should be underlined, in the debit book is crossed out I pay my debt. There is a special neatness and order in the store. There is a special beauty. The most untidy thing is this debit book But I can't buy anything for my children. My eyes fill with tears. Outside Everywhere a special neatness and order, a special beauty. Everything is painted; For the tenth time, the sidewalks and lampposts have been changed. The ornamental trees are newly decorated. Let my tears water them the legs of the trees have turned white. Their branches and twigs are heavily pruned. As if a beautiful woman had undressed. Only a green sheet remained on her head, and white stockings on her feet. Tears flow from the cut places, It seems that a tree has fifty eyes. Every tree with fifty eyes cries for this artificial beauty. It seems that a fragrant, decorated woman who has been forced into prostitution is crying. This is a consolation for me. There are beings more unfortunate than me. Neat and well-dressed citizens admire this artificial beauty. They say: "I thank the leadership." In the future, in the history books, a thick line should be drawn under their names. But I say: a thick line should be drawn over all the names. At this time, the road is closed due to repair work. They have drawn a white line on the gray asphalt. Like a hair bridge in religions. I walk on that white line. I look back and see that, I'm afraid of falling into the cauldron of Hell, Oh, what a wonderful feeling. ...I've forgotten the cauldron in which the food is cooked and how to live...
