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Nikolay Lakutin - The flight to New Wank



Для подготовки обложки издания использована художественная работа автора. Обложка книги разработана автором в дизайнерской программе и является интеллектуальной собственностью НиколаяЛакутина.

At the bus station of one of the cities of the Altai territory for twenty minutes was a small Shuttle bus. On the windshield of the bus was adorned with the inscription "Novodarino".

The bus driver was Smoking his fourth cigarette in those twenty minutes, standing at the open door, tired of long and frequent trips of the car, faithfully serving him for a good twelve years. There was only one passenger on the bus. A woman of about fifty. Driver, Stephen, several times throwing wary glances in her direction, and could not fail to notice her sadness.

Over the years of transportation Stepan met many views. A lot of joy, a lot of grief. Lost, happy, passionate, foggy, in love and hopeless, what views he has not seen enough of his career as a driver. Like this woman saw for the first time. Her sadness was something special. Usually people go to the bus, immediately sit down at the phone or open a book. On this route and a half hours, something to take time. Someone is sleeping, but mostly reading or sitting in gadgets. This woman had been staring out the window for twenty minutes without looking up. Maybe she didn't even blink, it was uncomfortable to look too openly in her direction.

– Thank God. How long till we leave? – out-of-breath voice asked a man of about thirty-five standing at the driver's door.

The driver calmly looked at him, made another puff and replied:

– Minutes forty still stand, waiting for.

– How forty? Are you? I have to be there in an hour! – pleading and uncomprehending eyes exclaimed guy.

Stepan carefully looked at the guy, made one last drag and tossing the cigarette, said:

– Two options!

– In terms of? – did not understand the guy.

Anything you don't need to be there in an hour or in a minute stuffed full bus and the bus engine increase two turbines. But I'm leaning towards the first option, ' replied Stepan.

Look, I gosh Katz, heard? I never expected anyone. And I'm telling you, I need an hour to be there already, in this, your Tracenine. Let me deal with the passengers, and you with the turbines, or the wings there, at the bus, at your discretion. U agree? – went on the offensive guy.

– Theoretically, I can try to solve the problem with the bus, but how are you going to solve the problem with the passengers?

– Elementarily. How much is a one-way ticket?

– Three hundred.

– Well here, I will pay the remained empty places, and the question is removed, how many there it is necessary to finish? – the guy looked into the bus and his enthusiasm diminished. There was only one woman in the back seat.

Stepan smiled.

It means twenty-five seats and a capacity of forty-three, multiplied by one thousand three hundred… what's happening? – intricate turned driver.

Gosh got the smartphone, quickly there counted and summarized with a sad look:

– Fifty-five nine hundred is obtained.

Stepan never collected such sums for the flight. It sounded divine…

– Well, the time is coming again, and cheered the guy – drove?

– Are you willing to pay nearly sixty wooden crosses to come in this hole? Isn't it easier to take a taxi for two or three thousand? – discarding interests, paternal offered Stepan.

Yeah where I'm looking for now. Let's go already, money it not the main thing, and here time, missed, you won't return. We've missed him enough. Go!

Gosh took out a wallet, counted eleven five thousandth notes and gave to the driver.

– Now still nine hundred can find the money, – fumbling in pockets, added guy.

– Okay, jump, we'll deal with the money after. For an hour I can't promise that the route can accommodate half, but will try to catch, Stephen responded, nervously running the cab in an effort to get to the driver's door.