The last lesson of russian literature

The day begun with the question: go or not go to the study? Finally I got up, made exercises and ran out to the foggy streets. What refreshing exterior it is! Foggy Sunday morning! How calm and peaceful it is! The only desire at such moments is to stay outdoors and breath. But I conscientiously went to the uni.

The teacher declaired extracts from “Fathers and sons” with great artistry. We could imagine every little details and the whole drama. She made different voices and accents on some gestures. Some people are great actors. (How can I learn this?)

During the lesson as usual I observed a girl at the front table. This time she wore loose black jamper and long skirt with brown boots with fur. After the study I greeted her, asked silly questions. She began to told about the film she watched yesterday and the book. Something about rude language of non-russian writers. All the time I tryed to use my russian better, more subtle and weigh every word. I realized that it was a rare moment with a peer I felt the necessity of improvements. And this actually what I really like in connection. The sense of ability to do something better than before and willing to correct some skills. Regretfully, it could be the last time we met (but who know) as my exam at next Friday.

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Anyway, this another literature’s lesson shown me that my own skill of percieving fine arts is a bit straightforward, a bit scientifically pragmatical. Even though I still evade the status of bookish girl, my understanding and vision should be more clear and profound.

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Sunday mood

New sunday morning I woke up at time, drunk my coffee and got out of home to the freeze slippery roads. One of the wonderful things at sunday is morning. Most of people sleep some additional hours among white sheets. But as I have my courses at the morning of this day I must get up. There is no regret as beauty of empty and calm square appeazes even better than few moments of sleep.

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We were writing the essay. The text seemed to me kind of programm, there were some evident contradictions and evident stupidity (to my mind). It was the story happened at the Sweden war, but the deduction the author clinged to this story wasn’t suitable. I would say it was a story about amount of emperor’s power under his army even in moral issues rather than about brave army itself. Let it be. Exam is exam. Surprisingly, I’d got twenty of twenty three because of one grammar mistake (be careful, girl) and one little defect in the phrase.

This time college’s girl did not come and I had to go home alone though I was happy with it. My mind required the huge clarification after yesterday’s working day.

The old barbershop where I cut my hair being six years old is still near to my house. The choice of barbers is random stuff what changes from time to time. Today it was funny blonde woman who offered me little modifications which I agreed. She was so involved into process that couldn’t talk as the last one did. So I’ve got my hair dressed in order and mind is clear.

The flat is empty and I have the place and time to have remained things done.