The last tram One night, I fell out…

the Last tram One , I quarreled with my girlfriend and went to his hostel in Time to ride the subway to the closing, was shivering from the cold, two hundred meters from the tram stop Lamp above it was not on fire, people were not I began to , go any more trams at this time, but the approaching rattle and squeak dispelled my doubts the source of the sound came around the corner and stopped, hesitated slightly, opened door — You are still driving? I asked the driver, an unshaven man in orange overalls Or in the depot? — The last tram, ‘ growled the driver, impatiently tapping his fingers on the knee I didn’t wait to bother him, a sigh of relief and walked into a completely empty salon for some reason the lights inside were occasionally wink, as if the tram also couldn’t keep my eyes I sat down on one of the last places I always liked to observe the other passengers As they dressed, what are you talking about what persons look out of the window, smiles, having met the glance of his reflection I’m always smiling Tram thundered, picking up speed a Few stops he went by, without stopping — still no one was there the next stop and let a hunched man in a black cloak with a raised collar, He coughed, entering, and sat on one of the first places I was not to see, and I turned on the player, not to Through the stop includes two — a young boy in a dirty sweatshirt with a stretched hood and an elderly woman in a crimson cloak is Very beautiful, It seems, was returning from a restaurant — it shone gold in the hands of a tiny purse And what is she doing in the tram, she would have gone more expensive car, which would lead her young boyfriend a Woman sat on a single seat in the middle of the cabin, the boy huddled on the double was built next to a bulky backpack and looking at the window, the Trams started once more, I glanced in the back window — there was running over the turn track, summed up the lanterns and sometimes obstruct the foliage of the trees Here they ran over a black cat, flashing in the light the white tip of the tail At the next stop no one, and the tram was about to pass by But from the shadows suddenly made pale figure, and he quickly stopped and opened the door I almost asleep, only glanced without interest at his visitor And passenger immediately jumped up: — Girl, what’s wrong with you?! She was all wet, from head to toe And practically naked, wrapped only in a bath towel it would have been enough to be surprised, but the Towel was covered in blood! It soaked almost through, half painted in pale pink And crimson spots at the top where the towel touched the hands of the hands were also covered in blood — call an ambulance! in two jumps are in front of her, grabbed the cold hands Really, they are a number of deep cuts, from which the blood is flowing sluggishly Look in the face of a girl she’s Beautiful And pale as death Only his eyes, under which lay the dark circles are wide open, as if she is surprised by my reaction, my God! Yes it is really bad — stop the bleeding help me in the end! you shout, looking around the salon, and the few passengers But nobody was moving Tram calmly picks up speed, as if the cabin is not a bloody girl, ready to die at any moment, I grope in my pocket No mobile network! Damn! — You have the numbers? Give me the phone, someone! — almost screaming am I dreaming?! It just can’t be! — Why are you not helping me?! The man in the cloak only more stooped, the Boy turns away and is holding a backpack and buries his face in his hands Only a woman slowly stands up, walks towards me and takes my hand, Shakes his grey head and said in a hoarse voice, which I also suddenly begins tickling in throat: — Boy, you can’t help her and us too — About W-what are you talking about? — stammer helplessly look from the bloody towels on the calm face of a woman She slowly pulls collar blouse: — We’re all dead, — on her neck the prints of someone’s fingers, Burgundy, almost black So that’s why she croaks — it is Strange that the living could sit on this tram “Yes,” a weak voice meets dead girl, pulling your hand out of my numb fingers is Very strange Not knowing what to think I turn to the man in the front seat, He smiles bitterly and shows a bullet hole on his chest Very small, slightly charred front I understand that his black Cape back so it shines not because of designer fabrics impregnated His blood makes Me bad Reach for the button on handrail to ask the driver to drop me off the Woman shakes her head, sitting down in her place: — I’ll come, boy, There’s only one — stop- end Through these doors you may miss the Conductor Weakly sobbing On buckling legs go to far the seat dizzy, the air is not enough Bloody girl picks up from the floor two coins that when I grabbed her hand, and sits down on the seat nearby I’m afraid to look in her direction, and even more afraid to see what’s under the hood of a teenager it seemed to Me that there’s something oily shiny Oh God the Tram stops again Comes crying girl in a hospital gown, nursing a bundle of course Stop “Roddom” I was shaking Every time a tram was slowing down, everything inside was complete nightmare — I was afraid that he would stop, and come someone so horrible after death are different No need to think about this And that, “Terminus” Well driver, well done! “The last tram”, you say? And rightly so, he really is the last! Despite my prayers, the tram is still stopped New passenger about something spoke with the driver, pulled the turnstile and entered the cabin I saw the cause of his death nor was he mistaken for dead High in a black hoodie, gray-haired man’s Pale hands with slender fingers and Bright blue, piercing eyes, the Smile of a professional therapist So you are, Explorer Pass for travel! he says loudly, in a deep voice, some priests are rites in the Church But travel? Passengers get out of the pockets of the coin are the same as those that dropped the girl Ancient, battered, sometimes greenish First pays the man with a bullet wound, He gives the money, said something with a wry smile, the Conductor responds, the smile of a passenger becomes sincere He dutifully throws her head, and the Guide puts the coins on his eyes like a Man stiffens And the Conductor moves on to the next to the woman in the crimson cloak asked Her about something, she laughs hoarsely: — I’m more worried about meeting with her first husband And that bastard I’ll never see again — in it has no place — the Right mood — welcomes the Conductor, putting coins on the eyelids painted Woman dies on her lips — a satisfied smile the Next the girl with the baby She cries in the voice, when the Conductor puts very tiny, penny coins on the eyelids of the baby after he says something and the girl suddenly calm down and then freezes, his head thrown back, eyelid — copper circles, hands still pressed to her chest a bundle with the child When the turn comes to the boy I close my eyes Opening a moment later his eyes that he was already numb, and his face covers the Conductor with a white silk handkerchief thank God Now all over the girl in the towel They are talking about something, the Conductor takes her one coin Meets my surprised look and blinks: — This advance she comes to the door and presses the button, the Tram begins to slow down Now Conductor turns to me In the tram flashing light, all the passengers, except two, stood with their heads thrown back and My heart slows down along with the streetcar That the same will happen to me — You’re a stowaway, says the Guide, And seem to have the wrong tram will Have to drop you off walk away, you have nothing to do on the destination — With the stammer of joy Is, let me go! The tram stops Door hissed open, and we go out with a girl She barely set foot on the ground, turns into a transparent silhouette, softly glowing in the and a second later vanished into thin air So, what kind of “advance” said the Guide. She’s a Ghost now! I turn around, hoping to have time to thank his Savior But behind me nothing Only heard the slowly receding sound of the tram that night I reached home on foot, and the next morning could scarcely believe that all this is not a dream a Couple of years later, that trip has turned into a vague memory later all was forgotten But I’m forty-eight years I put them to sons, kissed the wife and I Went to the desktop, hoping I can write a couple chapters for a new novel But that evening I sat down at my computer On the desktop, lay a coin Two time-blackened coins, I’m sitting in a wicker chair in the Here in the suburbs, the trams don’t go But I another one coming to my house My last tram


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