Page 54 - СКАЗКИ СНЕЖНОГО ЭЛЬФА

Martha and snowflakes

It was as if I’d got a strange fever. My body broke out in
goosebumps, anguish rented my muscles, a sticky fog got
clinging into my brain, and the viruses made a barbed- wire
nest in my throat. It looked like they were going to multiply.
The wire bit deeply into everything available in my flushed
throat and the cough did not want to relax its grip. I was lying
facing the dark window. All of a sudden, a little eddie of snow
landed on the cornice. It ran about a bit and stared at me with
his angry blue eyes.
‘Snezhik, here I am – cough-cough-cough,’- I gasped, com-
plaining.
‘Snezhik! I’ve been Snezhik for three hundred years,’
hissed angrily the tooth-edged grouch. ‘ What’s going on?
You’re spoiling the entire snow environment. A friend, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, Snezhik, why are you telling me off? Don’t you see I’m ill?’
‘Ill, indeed. What is your final diagnosis that allows you to
breathe out such reinforced concrete flakes? They ‘re ugly. Just
look what you’ve done!’ And Snezhik threw a handful of heavy
grey flakes at the window. The window began to creak wildly.
‘Do you mean it’s me who’s done it? How come?’
‘No wonder. Lying here, sighing heavily and complaining,
you look listless with just a little cold. But all this makes flakes
come out ill, too. They are heavy.’
‘That’s not on,’ I instantly pulled a smile over my face. ‘
From now on I’ll be thinking about something good and light,
I’m sure to get better. Honestly!’
‘Alright, stay in bed, we’ve already got some correctors,’
Snezhik’s smile flashed crystal.
‘Will you tell me?’ I asked hopefully, pulling the blanket
tight round my body.
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