Schnderovich corner: Part 2

In Reykjavik there is a match for the chess crown: Spassky - Fisher! Sometimes we even analyze the party with the father. I love chess, in boring lessons I play with myself on a notebook in a cell. This is done like this: in a notebook, a board is drawn in a cell with a ballpoint pen (half of the cells are painted with the same handle), and figures are thinly with a pencil. The course is made in two tricks: the figure is erased and drawn in a new place.

But I was distracted, and in Reykjavik Spassky - Fisher!

For some time this match is almost the main event in the press: in a day, parties with lengthy comments are published ... Then the comments are praised by little, then the texts of the parties disappear. And then once I read (petit in the corner of the newspaper): yesterday in Reykjavik, such and such a party of the match for the championship of the world took place. On the 42nd move, blacks won.

And who played black? And who did they win? And what is happening there at all, in Reykjavik? ..

So for the first time I was puzzled by the Soviet press.

Oh, this is the ability to say and not say! Already many years later, in Andropov times, the whole country put the brains of TASS's message about the South Korean liner, which violated our airspace: "The supplied signals and warnings of Soviet fighters did not react and continued the flight towards the Sea of ​​Japan."

How is it: continued the flight towards the Sea of ​​Japan? Horizontally or vertically? Shot at it or not? Was the military a plane or is it a passenger? Understand as you want.

Better yet, don't understand. Tighten with the whole Soviet people - and do not understand.

Road to the construction squad: a reserved seat compartment, occupied by youth of the seventies with guitars in their hands and liberalism in the heads. The man probably got into twenty.

And on the lower shelf, curled up with a kalachik, a grandmother sleeps - half a meter of that grandmother, no more ... Well, God with her. Let's go! They took tea, rolled some kind of alcohol nonsense, the guitars were cleared, and it began to interspersed: Vysotsky and Kim, yes some kind of self-building, but a visor with Okudzhava ...

Got to Galich. And what are we, young and bewitching! ..

And the grandmother sleeps - deaf, thank God, and, to put it mildly, not urban. They sang the “clouds”, reached the “monuments”. While finished, the train just slowed down and stopped.

- And they will beat the drums! Tra-Ta-Ta-Ta!

The grandmother stirred, rose, cloudy around and said:

-Ah ... Galich ...

And again lay down.

Here we, young-bewitching, were sharply losing weight. Grandma is a grandmother, and in what rank? The silence came bad, hemless ... In this silence, the train, clanging with joints, jerked, and the name of the station swam past the window.

The station was called - Galich.