Вадим Головченко - Short stories

© Вадим Головченко, 2021

ISBN 978-5-0055-4111-6

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

At first, she was looking quite frightening to me, the person or rather say the equally likely to a shadow stood by me. The thing does resemble something we do not normally discuss or talk about, but usually we do. The difference that it made was by my vision of it, or rather say reception. Namely different from what I thought It would mean, the AK-47. It had nothing like what was shown there, on the internet photos, or anywhere in a shop I’d gathered with friends. Scary as hell it may be, but I found it on the dark carpet of a deadly valley of death, never mind that it was yet a typical something known as was called War.

We then thought it could take a while to obtain any necessary information about the past of it, or anything like that. MY friend in behold told me, that I should never ever see anything like that. We left the city. We never even saw it like that, the exact way I remember until these days. It did change quite a bit from what I could imagine about war, but that mean thing would never escape my brain. Thoughts I did not mention or tell anyone, is that it resembles more than I could possibly think of an artifact that was self-maid. Difference to any expensive kind of object, that normally would be sold by an auctions’, was that, it had more than a life that has a measure. In other words, it said well, it is craft of a master of a prolonged duty that would never obtain you a successful military or any other kind of service, and by other meanings would never gather you a friend. Oh, how would a writer describe this? It takes a misery in life and soul, nevertheless, it leaves stains on your path. Something like that would perfectly describe what the person saw at that very moment. Would you, the reader, believe it had more signs of anything like an artifact to hold more than any other most expensive things in the world? Would rather describe this as something worth not to mention as it would not bring justice to life or so on? If yes, would you seriously read this story about an important thing worth not to mention at all? If yes, please, be kind to the author and read. If not, worth closing this page and never open again. As accustom said.

Shadow stays

We were on the road, riding that hummer car for the best of luck or for a lunch that we will have after. The duty was not to serious, nevertheless, nothing special as it would say. See where it goes, often said in the car. And nothing also could go wrong. First things come first. Like bullets that do not resemble death at first, would normally mean anything in life to see next, that you wish never to expect. Certain people would be wounded but that seemed like an OK thing. To say this, I would not take it seriously too much, for it not to be worried over too much. At that point I noticed the strange object lying on the black narrowed carpet in the end of the house. Seemed an OK thing to me too, until I discovered it had a symbolic order. I raised it quite frankly, as no one would tell me, the opposite, and looked at it with more precision in my eyes. I saw a glimpse made of some art working painting color, that people use for certain purposes. Well, would imagine that by a matter of fact it had a soil written with the authors name on it?

Personally, I do not disadvantage myself, though my certain life meanings things do surprise me more and more. And yet the written work is all about it all.

Shadow leaves

On the road back, we had a chat with a few of the people there in a camp. I was black to known that somebody would just make a strange mistake. Though I was not offended to know, that simply a matter of truth stays in war to a place it most belongs too, as a matter of a common fact. Life, shows, it never takes much to know, where your next mistake lies.

Bk progress whatever it means it always happens and stays where’re that may help you to be in with or such. That does not necessarily mean you’re a great person or so but also can be that that your somebody in that exact likely place to be a someone to be. Let’s put it in any manner… no way you can held this without saying yours someone exact, or even a person o sorry a persona, yes right. More of this kind of word wouldn’t not be precise enough as such.

Hopefully this story will not end on the following character nevertheless continuing on something next and exciting as always happens for she people like pen and s testify.

In regards to the story yeller his in his wisdom whatsoever, fine and feeling good. No tot touches the many subject of that I am going to tell you about, I want to make a remark. *Some people, evidences and places are commonly mistaken to be personal and are widely known. For this reason, all mentioned people, places, etc. are known nevertheless are not attached personally to anyone or anybody.

This starts with the seasons of summer when the man first visited a really nice a warm place called Los Angles. Where the story begins by itself. The vast was kind a gentle, the plane took off from Europe, destination that is unknown. From a very traveling guide, I would mention a few magazines that were called The Smasher and They Story teller. He read once in a while, a few pages per look. Then he would tumble down his voice and drink a martini or an orange juice, to calm himself after the nosey engine of the so-called transitional airplane. The private jets that were very uncommon to that period of time. Knowing hat hat the ticket was sold top him at a glance that he was a kind-of-a foreigner to country of states. He persuaded himself that he would take a look at what was going there, wrought actually running too deep into the details of what can fortune there possible be to himself in general for that life of his. Mistakes are taken@ as he said @Mistakes are given back to what is it@, as he liked that to say sometimes to himself, for a reason of justice. Yes, indeed, the justice was not a minority to him as he served certain interest on the side of political powers in south of Europe, not mentioning anything in specific, as he also knew that anything could be tricky. By anything he would usually mean any type of business that is unrelated to what he was doing by person, by himself, or rather say, with his own hands.

To the leading view, of the author, Mike – that main person the story was telling about – was not a very intelligent man though nevertheless to an extent a very disarmed and quiet person, that made him look (pretending) quite smart in the views of those who met him or who surrounded him that very moment. By the moment, I would normally mean situations of the delicate business type.

By the arrival, the stewardess would normally relax and tell everybody that they had landed. Normally, this happens all time, and he – Mike, would with not a luck except it. Where he would need it – luck – is that the exact moment of his life where they journey begins. As he had, absolutely, nothing against what was called a dream.

On the other side, to mention anything in specific, the flight went on through quite calmly, without anything special or disturbing to anybody. A part from a hanging person close by the sign-table, at the registration upon the arrival of the plane. By chance telling passengers that the air pollution is a certain measure of healthcare, and that the masks should be worn. Certifying it also by a close related noise pollution, which Mike would call very disturbing to him. Saying noise, is a related experience of his personal account. The existing problem, nevertheless, is formally, a wide spread problem in the United States. The meaning of this is actually a known contribution of what is known healthcare, and such is on the whole population. Whether, it is a mentioning trouble to Mike at his business, was his secret. But he was on the go to solve it. Let it be not the case for the story-telling onwards.