Martian guests It's not a simple story. You need to move your mind. (P.P. Bazhov)
Not about myself, but about people. Or even the inhumans... Seven hundred miles from Syserti village is available. Pompeii is called. A lot of devastation remained here since the time when Kolchak himself came to us with bad intentions. Ruins and earth craters. And a black muddy. With an amethyst patch. Have you heard from your fathers? Pompeiisky is ours and to this day do not build anything, so in chaos and live — honor the tradition.
Our village is famous for its gemstone, but it is not very rich in a flat place, wherever you look - mountains and spoons. But right at our factory, a palm spoon fell by the nickname of Goats: a wide one, and in the very bottom, like a round platform. In the summer, it used to be that you would gather with young women in beautiful sundresses, swing a glass of faceted crystal - and, for example, the gnat is no longer so overcome. It's a fun place! And one day in the autumn, four large cars with wheels rolled to Koziem. They thought grain harvesters, and then they realized - where did they come from here, grain harvesters? Our people are green curious: what is Kavo? Escaped, therefore, to that place, looking - and in that lowland of the people crowding non-native. Like planetaries. Hair is long and faces are not visible. And they take out, you know, these hairy men and their servants out of those machines, things that are unknown: huge boxes, balalaika-like instruments, a round drum and a thick coil of copper wire six hundred to seven hundred thousand. In the crowd, the rumor went: “Pinfluit” some say, they say, flew to our Pompeii, and the men, who are more laughable, are mowing on that wire, churning: this is the Copper Stripe! Whosoever, according to the ancient Ural tradition, will take it to himself, and to him will be riches. Do you think you should steal it openly or exchange it for jasper agate? And at that time, Pinfloyt twisted, sits and is silent, and the timids are our savvy: they grabbed that Poloz and wanted to clean up each one of them, and the Poloz did not give up, apparently conspired, had to pull it out of their own volition amicably in a neighboring backwater, our electricity has long been absent.
As the Copper Stripe came to life, so Pinfloit with him: from the Goatspoon came unknown sounds. They talk fervently, and what is impossible to understand. We've never heard of that before. Even in the mines. We don't make much noise when we're drunk. In our near lake, come on, all the yams and oozing fish from that howl on the shore threw themselves, and the cow Zorka in the factory pigsty with a foal came up. The superstitious women with children, it is known, hid in the bathhouse and huts, the peasants, which is more common, buried in the factory, and those who are bolder - in the bushes hid with malachite checkers. Only our local, blissful man, Vanka, nicknamed Broshnik, did not come down, but sat down on the edge of a spoon, hung his legs and hung his ears, therefore, heard music ... While he was listening, he quietly took a stone cutter out of his pocket and cleaned up an amethyst piglet. We have all sorts of masters here.
A week later, Vanka Broshnik told everyone to come out. Flew away, says the planetary Pinfluit to his Mars, come out into the light of God. The Pompeii came out, of course, unwashed, uncooked. Who is hungry, who is drunk, and who is with rhodonite crafts. And all Vanka tormented: as they say, here, so what happened, but what kind of filth bred? So, Vanka Broshnik crumpled a little and said that he heard and saw a miracle. He says he saw an amber pancake the size of the sun, in which a planetary man beat with a stick, saw, therefore, a singing dog, and ran around the village like a man with a strange apparatus and stopped near the very destruction. Said it, spit it, and went. People were angry here: who just scolded, and who threw a gemstone after him, did not bow.
A few years have passed since then. Our factory already forgot the story about the planetary visit, especially after serious people in military gymnasts came to us and persistently suggested that there could be nothing like this in our Pompeii. I didn't forget... I once walked past our spoon and glimpsed Vanka Broshnik beside him. Sitting himself, making small bricks of smoky quartz and whistling melody. I sat down with him on the side, gave him a pink wine, and I asked him: what is the motive? He swallowed it and said, Remember, Pinfluit came? They have not forgotten our land of gems. It's their new song. "Sparkle, my plague emerald" is called. That's it! And you say, "Let's have a drink!"
Thank you to Pink Floyd, P. P. Bazhov, V. Maurin, V. Loginov and A. Baranovsky for the inspiration.