скачать книгу бесплатно
– Yes, sure.
Sveta added Peter as a friend. Peter did the same.
– Well, now you have friends.
– Yes, it’s cool.
– Have you written a lot already? I’m talking about the book.
– No, only three chapters.
– It’s difficult. You need to invent and then write.
– Yes, you have to sit for several hours on each chapter. It happens even half a day.
– Sorry, I need to leave, I’m at work now. Then the authorities came.
– Fine.
Peter’s mood improved somewhat. He made his first friend on a social network, and it was a pretty girl. Peter took a sip of coffee and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head.
– Why not write about it. About how I met a girl. – Peter thought.
The keys jingled in the keyhole. The door opened and Christina entered the apartment. Peter watched her through the slightly open door. She took off her briefcase and threw it in the corridor. Then she took off her shoes and immediately went to Peter’s room.
– Give me the computer, I urgently need to write to my friend. – she said, standing next to Peter.
Peter looked at the monitor, then at his sister, and reluctantly crawled out from behind the computer. The sister sat down in a chair and began to enter the username and password for her social network page.
Stepping away from the computer, Peter lay down on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. Now his thoughts were not absorbed only by the book, there was a place in them for Sveta. Peter didn’t really look at her photograph, but, at first glance, Sveta seemed quite attractive to him.
After lying on the sofa for about ten minutes, Peter got up, took a mug with the remaining coffee from the table, and went to the kitchen to pour new, hot coffee. The sister was sitting on the computer, communicating with someone on a social network, and at the same time watching videos of popular bloggers.
– Make me something to eat! – the sister shouted after him as Peter left the room.
– Fine.
Having reached the kitchen, Peter turned on the kettle, put the mug on the table, and climbed into the refrigerator to figure out what to cook for his sister for lunch.
– Make me some dumplings! – the sister’s voice was heard.
Peter closed the refrigerator and opened the freezer. From there he took a pack of dumplings.
– Fry them! – was heard from the room again.
Putting a pack of dumplings on the table, Peter lit the gas under the frying pan and poured some vegetable oil into it. Then he took a pack of dumplings, opened it, and counted out twenty dumplings, which he placed on the frying pan. The dumplings sizzled. Peter turned down the gas so they wouldn’t burn and put the leftovers back in the freezer.
Closing the frying pan with a lid, Peter poured himself a new mug of coffee and sat down at the table. Sitting at the table, he began to watch TV. A program about travel was shown on TV. At that moment, Peter thought that if he could earn money, if his book was published and he would earn a lot of money from it, then he would certainly go on a trip too. I would go to some exotic country, to Egypt, or to China, or maybe I would go to Dubai. There were many places to go, but there was no money.
Having taken a sip of coffee, Peter stood up from the table and went to the stove. He removed the lid from the frying pan and, taking a wooden spatula, stirred the dumplings, after which he closed the frying pan with a lid.
– He might give up this whole writing thing. I don’t like to write. I have to admit to myself that it doesn’t give me any pleasure to write, especially when you have to write a lot, and you have no idea what to write about or how to fill the pages. – Peter thought, returning to the table.
He clamped his fingers around the coffee mug and stared into it. After taking a sip, he turned his gaze to the TV.
My sister came into the kitchen.
– Will the dumplings be ready soon?
– In about five minutes.
– Okay, I’ll be on the computer, bring them to me when they’re ready.
– Don’t you need to do your homework?
– It’s necessary, but I’ll do them later.
– Come on, don’t sit for long, I also need a computer.
– Okay, but most importantly, bring me the dumplings.
– Okay, okay. – Peter mumbled, taking another sip of coffee.
When the dumplings were ready, Peter turned off the gas under the frying pan, put the dumplings on a plate and, putting the fork there, took everything into the room. He placed the plate on the table in front of the keyboard.
– Bring some ketchup. – said Christina, taking a fork and pricking one dumpling on it.
Peter went back to the kitchen, took ketchup out of the refrigerator, and took it to his sister. She squeezed ketchup into the dumplings and returned it to Peter. He took it to the refrigerator.
There was nothing to do. All that was left was to watch TV. But it was uncomfortable to sit in the kitchen, my back quickly got tired, and the coffee had already left an unpleasant taste in my mouth.
Taking a mug of coffee, Peter poured the rest into the sink and, after rinsing it, put a tea bag there. The kettle was still hot, but not hot enough for the tea to brew. Peter turned on the electric kettle and stood next to it, waiting for the water to boil in it.
When the water in the kettle boiled, Peter took it and poured water into the mug in which the tea bag lay. The water turned dark brown. Taking a teaspoon, Peter crushed the tea bag, which made the water even darker. Having brewed tea, he took the bag out of the mug and threw it into the trash can. Then he put three spoons of sugar into the mug and mixed everything thoroughly.
After taking a sip of tea, he sat down at the table and stared at the TV, which was still showing a travel program. The program was interesting, it showed all the countries that were on the world map. Peter was surprised by how people lived in other countries, especially in countries like India, where they didn’t even remove garbage from the streets and where there was no sewage system. People were too spiritual, they did not value life or comfort. This seemed strange to Peter, but in India it was normal. As explained in the program, Hindus believe in castes, and that later they will be reborn in another caste and will live like kings.
– This is all strange. Is it so difficult to keep the streets clean? – thought Peter, taking another sip of tea. «I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t read or write books.» Where will writers and those who will read them come from in such a dump? Although you yourself are not that much of a writer. I decided to write a book, but I don’t even know what to write it about. You write some boring nonsense, where each chapter is nothing more than a copy of the first chapter. But on the other hand, if there are so few varied events in the life of a writer, what now? Inventing tall tales about him writing a book and fighting space aliens? Stupidity. A boring book about a boring person.
– I’m done, you can go to the computer. – said the sister, coming out into the kitchen with an empty plate. She took it to the sink and went to her room to do her homework.
– Great! – said Peter and, taking a mug of tea, went to the computer.
Returning to the computer, he opened his social network page. Sveta was offline. Then Peter decided to write the fourth chapter of the book. He opened the office program, scrolled to the bottom of the text, wrote a chapter subtitle, and began to describe another, boring day of the writer. There was nothing interesting to come up with, and it was impossible to come up with anything, because the book was just about a guy who writes a book, and nothing more. Any imagination could spoil the plot, nothing could be added, and for an entire chapter I had to write a boring day, during which the main character walks from the computer to the refrigerator, drinks coffee and tries to compose a text.
The hardest part was dragging out the moments when it was necessary to describe on two pages how the main character cooks scrambled eggs and pours coffee.
Without going into details, each day could be fit into two paragraphs, simply by briefly writing that the main character poured coffee, cooked scrambled eggs, had breakfast, and went to write a book. But the publishers wanted at least eight author sheets, and for this, it was necessary to write at least three thousand words in each chapter.
Peter was clearly tired of working on the book he had in mind, because it was incredibly boring, at least for him. He was used to watching films where the plot develops quickly and energetically, where the heroes constantly get into some kind of trouble and are forced to fight monsters, but what happened here? Computer, social network, kitchen, coffee. Four components from which it was necessary to assemble a whole book. The publisher simply had to recognize Peter as a genius. Well, who else can write a book of more than two hundred pages, where the main character constantly drinks coffee and sits on the computer? It was boring beyond belief. The main thing is that this boredom does not scare away readers, because Peter wrote not in order to write a book, but in order to earn money.
Peter sat over the fourth chapter until the evening.
Mother returned from work and was preparing dinner in the kitchen.
Christina entered the room, turning to Peter, who was just finishing the last paragraph of the chapter:
– You are very busy?
– Now yes, but what did you want?
– Go to the store with me.
– Why do you need it?
– I need to buy a notebook.
– Do you have to?
– Yes, I need a notebook.
– Okay, just come on a little later, I need to write a little here. Take mom’s money for now.
The sister left the room and went to the kitchen to ask her mother for money for a notebook.
Peter continued to write. There was very little left. One, two, maybe three sentences, and that’s it, the chapter is completed.
Having completed the last sentence, he looked at the number of words, it turned out to be exactly three thousand. This is exactly how much he needed so that in the end the book would turn out to be the right size. It would be unpleasant to write a book and then find out that it will not be published because it does not fit in size and only one author’s page is missing. This would be creepy, because there were not so many publishing houses in Russia, especially good publishing houses that could promote the book.
– Let’s get ready. – said the sister, entering the room.
– Okay, okay, I’m already getting ready.
Peter turned on the music, got up from the computer, and began to put on his street clothes.
After getting dressed, he turned off the computer and went out into the corridor. My sister was already standing in the corridor. Mother came out of the kitchen and handed Peter a hundred rubles.
– Here you go, there should be enough for a notebook. – she said.
Peter took the bill and put it in his pocket, after which he sat down on the bench and began to put on his sneakers.
Christina was already dressed.
When Peter put on his sneakers, he immediately went to the exit from the apartment.
– That’s it, we’re off. – said Christina.
– And don’t be late, dinner will be ready soon. – the mother said in response.
Peter and Christina left the apartment, and then from the front door to the street. It was already getting dark outside. Lanterns illuminated the road. Rare stars were visible in the sky. Peter and Christina walked along the road next to the house. It wasn’t very far to the shopping center, about ten minutes on foot.
First they walked through the park square, crossed the road, and walked along the sidewalk along another park. They lived in a residential area, and there were plenty of parks here.
Ten minutes later they reached the Mezhdunarodnaya metro station, where there was a shopping center. They went inside and took the escalator to the third floor, where the bookstore was located. In addition to books, the bookstore also sold notebooks. They went inside, and Christina rushed to the section with notebooks, and Peter stopped near the shelves with books. There were a lot of books, so many that if his book had suddenly appeared on the shelf, hardly anyone would have noticed it.
– There is a lot of competition. – Peter thought. – To make your way in literature, you need to have real talent, write beautifully, clearly, and about interesting events. It is unlikely that my book will succeed.
Walking past the shelves with books, he went to the section with notebooks, where Christina stood and chose a notebook for herself.
– Which one do you like better, this one or this one? – she asked, showing two notebooks, one had an owl on it, and the other had a panda on it.
– The one with the panda.
– Okay, then we’ll buy it.
Taking the notebook, Christina went to the cash register. Peter followed her. On the way, she also grabbed a pen. Approaching the cash register, she gave everything to the saleswoman, and Peter handed her a «one hundred ruble» bill.
The saleswoman took the bill and counted out the change. Christina took the notebook and pen and went to the exit.
– Are you satisfied? – asked Peter.
– Yes.
– Great.
Peter developed a feeling of worthlessness. He could afford absolutely nothing. He looked at people going shopping, buying something for themselves, choosing, but he didn’t even have the money to take his sister to a fast food restaurant and buy her a hamburger. Something in him shrank, so much so that he wanted to leave the shopping center as quickly as possible. All these people, with cars, cool phones, in expensive clothes, all this pressed on him from all sides, and it seemed that he was about to get dizzy and vomit right on them.
Together with Christina, they left the shopping center and went home. My sister was pleased. She didn’t care about what Peter did, because she was only eleven. She had different values, and she did not believe that at her age a person should already achieve something. The same could not be said about Peter. He understood that he was almost thirty years old, and he had not even earned enough money to buy a car. But he didn’t want a car, he didn’t want to be middle class, he wanted to be a millionaire, he wanted to have a lot of money, so much that he could afford not only a cheap car, but also a yacht and a private jet. He was sick before living a beautiful life, he believed that he should live in such a way that everything around him should bow before him and give him what he wants. However, nothing bowed before him except the branches of the bushes, swaying under the pressure of the cool wind.
Returning home, Christina went to draw in a new notebook, and Peter, pouring himself a mug of coffee, went to the computer to listen to music and relax.
Logging into his social network page, he saw that Sveta was online.
– Hello. – Peter wrote in a personal chat.
– Hello. How’s the book going? Have you written anything?
– Yes, I finished the fourth chapter. It was difficult, but I did it. I don’t even know how interesting everything I write about is. It would be frustrating to write a book and find out that it’s not worth printing. I was in a bookstore here, it was full of books. And how many more books have not been published? There are thousands of them.
– Yes, there is a lot of competition.
Mother entered the room.
– Dinner is ready, go eat.
– Yes, okay, now.
– I’ll go eat, I’ll come back later. – Peter wrote to Sveta, and got up from the table and went to the kitchen.
