Svyatoslav Albireo's Blog: From Firokami, page 6
April 8, 2024
the Black Abyss
#Hi_from_reality
Art&concept by Ol Albireo
Feel free to write your stories and name arts.
You also can do not only write, but draw, sing, create music and sculptures, translate into other languages you learn for practicing (and never simplify text when you translate it!). Show us that you did.
the Black Abyss
I want you to leave, but not because you could somehow hinder me. For you", Klaus sighed, "and for the city. Our kingdom isn't just walled off from the Dragon Mountains for no reason. There are roads through the Black Abyss, but only where it's necessary. In Damar, one cannot just build a road. The mayor is young; he wants to be remembered. He's a good mayor, but far too young, unaware of how things stand. That's our fault too; we didn't tell him in time. The Black Abyss is the place where all the evil of our kingdom converges. One must be very careful when building bridges and roads over it, and only with the permission of the Dragon Mountains' masters. There lies the land of dragons. We circumvent these mountains, not just because they are mountains, difficult to survive, easy to fall, expensive to build upon, no. It's forbidden land, not accessible to everyone. Where the dragons grant permission, there we have roads, held up by their nobility and kindness. And the evil of the Black Abyss, that's our evil, which prevents us from merging with the land of dragons. We must eradicate it, then the abyss will disappear. But it cannot be crossed by a rope, especially if you're angry with me.
Love with hazel eyes, AlbireoMKG
https://us-a.tapas.io/a/f9/51c1f02f-b...
Art&concept by Ol Albireo
Feel free to write your stories and name arts.
You also can do not only write, but draw, sing, create music and sculptures, translate into other languages you learn for practicing (and never simplify text when you translate it!). Show us that you did.
the Black Abyss
I want you to leave, but not because you could somehow hinder me. For you", Klaus sighed, "and for the city. Our kingdom isn't just walled off from the Dragon Mountains for no reason. There are roads through the Black Abyss, but only where it's necessary. In Damar, one cannot just build a road. The mayor is young; he wants to be remembered. He's a good mayor, but far too young, unaware of how things stand. That's our fault too; we didn't tell him in time. The Black Abyss is the place where all the evil of our kingdom converges. One must be very careful when building bridges and roads over it, and only with the permission of the Dragon Mountains' masters. There lies the land of dragons. We circumvent these mountains, not just because they are mountains, difficult to survive, easy to fall, expensive to build upon, no. It's forbidden land, not accessible to everyone. Where the dragons grant permission, there we have roads, held up by their nobility and kindness. And the evil of the Black Abyss, that's our evil, which prevents us from merging with the land of dragons. We must eradicate it, then the abyss will disappear. But it cannot be crossed by a rope, especially if you're angry with me.
Love with hazel eyes, AlbireoMKG
https://us-a.tapas.io/a/f9/51c1f02f-b...
April 7, 2024
Lessons Learned
Lessons Learned
At the age of 12, I found myself deeply engrossed in children's detective stories. There was a particular publishing house renowned for its Children's Detective series. Naturally, I tried my hand at writing too, and by the age of 14, I had penned "The Secret of Green Roses." It was my first earnest attempt at writing a complete book, a departure from the usual poems and lyrical sketches I composed. I diligently wrote it in pencil in a notebook, then enlisted the help of someone with a computer to type it up and print it out. I even managed to persuade a guy to deliver the manuscript to that very publishing house during his trip to Moscow. This uncle was a punchy phlegmatic, like Mowgli from the joke, who is reaching*
His return brought a rejection. The editor had perused the manuscript and commented, "It's commendable that our children are writing, and this is quite good. But why is a Russian child writing about a European town with non-Russian names? It's mere imitation. However, if the setting is changed to reflect Russian realities, then we can discuss further.
Can you just imagine how offended I was! It felt like a direct insult to my creativity. "Let them burn in hell!" I thought, filled with indignation. At that time, I was deeply into black magic and even considered cursing them, but ultimately, I chose to dismiss them with disdain. They weren't worth the effort.
Not long after, the publishing house began releasing Russian children's detective stories within the same series, authored by some Valery Ronshins. It was a wildy-weirdo, utterly mediocre. I purchased two books in 'Russian realities,' and they were appalling. That was the end of my interest in the series. Eventually, the publishing house faded into obscurity. I was shocked, like, damn it, they published this unreadable nonsense, but they didn’t like my names? 0__0 Lord... we really don’t get along, damn it, with such people.
The era was dawning for the likes of Dontsova, Lukyanenko, Marinina, Ustinovs Shilova—mediocrities with connections who were flooding the market. But I still cherished the works of true writers. Needless to say, the whole experience was quite jarring.
Back then, I stumbled upon a Romanian publishing house. I had one of their books in Russian and decided to send them my manuscript, saying, "Here's a manuscript for you, in Russian. I don't want money or something, but please publish it." I also sent copies to Hungarian and Polish publishers. In the 90s, you could find a book, look up the publisher's postal address at the end, and simply send them anything you wanted.
I received responses from Hungary and Romania, in Russian, saying, "Thank you, we'll publish it." Poland ignored me. "To hell with them," I thought, feeling a sense of vindictive pride.
Later, those letters were stolen from me, and I also lost the publishing houses' addresses. The times were such that at 15 years old in 1995, you didn't have the luxury to focus on publishing. Being 15 in 1995 was vastly different from being 15 in 2005 or even 2015. So, I'm not sure what happened afterward, but I got the satisfaction I needed at my 15.
For years, I wore my principles like a badge of honor, declaring my refusal to engage with those who couldn't appreciate the names Fred, Joyce, and the like.
But now I’ve grown up. Dear editor, you were right all along. Perhaps you should have written on a warmer note for a stupid naïve child? Maybe you should have explained it in simpler terms, not as an adult would. But of course, those were busy times; you had no room for such considerations in the '90s. And yet, if you endorsed that Ronshin project, I can't help but question your judgment.
Nevertheless, I'll leave Ronshin and the rest to your conscience. You offered sound advice, made the right call, and saved me from future embarrassment, even though I didn't see it at the time.
I'm currently enjoying a delightful book by a Bulgarian author titled "The World Awaits You." It's a charming fantasy, essentially a direct nod to Sailor Moon. The plot revolves around five girls, the world's saviors, who lead ordinary lives until a benevolent corporation awakens them to train and battle whenever Earth faces peril. The narrative is quite predictable: the girls engage in battles, share meals, and engage in trivial conversations, while the villains concoct schemes and seethe with anger, all set in a quaint British town.
My critiques are twofold. Firstly, the 16-year-old protagonists speak in an unnaturally stilted and literary manner, devoid of the vibrant reactions one would expect from their age. They remind me of the didactic characters from old anime series—uniformly articulate, lacking any distinctive slang or dialect that might add depth to their personalities. (in Mamnik, on the contrary, there’s an intrusive dialect spoken by SOME old people from the village, but it’s very intrusive, also annoying, man, damn it, we understand about the materiel, stop it ). Well, like, both adult villains and 16-year-olds speak the same way.
Secondly, I question the author's choice to set the story in a fictional British town. A narrative rooted in Bulgarian culture, featuring Bulgarian heroines, would have been far more compelling. Incorporating local mythology and settings would have lent authenticity and richness to the tale.
Despite its well-crafted prose, the book feels like a missed opportunity—a derivative work lacking in originality. The author, though young and evidently inspired by Sailor Moon, has fallen into the trap of imitation that I once encountered in my own writing journey with "The Secret of Green Roses."
But he is too a young author, well, older than me at the time of writing The Secret of Green Roses, but still very young. And he watched some alike Sailor Moon and was impressed, just as I was then impressed by all sorts of mystery-seekers and nancy-dru.
Damn.
"Oh, Olya, how I wish you could see yourself from the outside"
The Great Soviet fairy tale "The Kingdom of Crooked Mirrors" and its lessons :)))
So, learn lessons of the great books sooner, not later, folks!
* Mowgli and Kaa are in the jungle. Kaa is resting after a meal, while Mowgli is jumping around.
Mowgli: Kaa, Kaa, can you reach the Sun?
Kaa: No, Mowgli, I can't reach the Sun. It's far and high.
Mowgli: Kaa! Kaa! What about Baloo, strong Baloo, can he reach the Sun?
Kaa: No, Mowgli, even strong Baloo can't reach the Sun. It's too far away.
Mowgli: And Bagheera, swift Bagheera, can he reach the Sun?
Kaa, losing his patience: No, Mowgli, Bagheera can't reach the Sun either! Let me nap!
Mowgli: Okay... Kaa! Kaa! What about me, can I reach the Sun?
Kaa: Yes, Mowgli, you can reach the Sun! You're so reaching.
At the age of 12, I found myself deeply engrossed in children's detective stories. There was a particular publishing house renowned for its Children's Detective series. Naturally, I tried my hand at writing too, and by the age of 14, I had penned "The Secret of Green Roses." It was my first earnest attempt at writing a complete book, a departure from the usual poems and lyrical sketches I composed. I diligently wrote it in pencil in a notebook, then enlisted the help of someone with a computer to type it up and print it out. I even managed to persuade a guy to deliver the manuscript to that very publishing house during his trip to Moscow. This uncle was a punchy phlegmatic, like Mowgli from the joke, who is reaching*
His return brought a rejection. The editor had perused the manuscript and commented, "It's commendable that our children are writing, and this is quite good. But why is a Russian child writing about a European town with non-Russian names? It's mere imitation. However, if the setting is changed to reflect Russian realities, then we can discuss further.
Can you just imagine how offended I was! It felt like a direct insult to my creativity. "Let them burn in hell!" I thought, filled with indignation. At that time, I was deeply into black magic and even considered cursing them, but ultimately, I chose to dismiss them with disdain. They weren't worth the effort.
Not long after, the publishing house began releasing Russian children's detective stories within the same series, authored by some Valery Ronshins. It was a wildy-weirdo, utterly mediocre. I purchased two books in 'Russian realities,' and they were appalling. That was the end of my interest in the series. Eventually, the publishing house faded into obscurity. I was shocked, like, damn it, they published this unreadable nonsense, but they didn’t like my names? 0__0 Lord... we really don’t get along, damn it, with such people.
The era was dawning for the likes of Dontsova, Lukyanenko, Marinina, Ustinovs Shilova—mediocrities with connections who were flooding the market. But I still cherished the works of true writers. Needless to say, the whole experience was quite jarring.
Back then, I stumbled upon a Romanian publishing house. I had one of their books in Russian and decided to send them my manuscript, saying, "Here's a manuscript for you, in Russian. I don't want money or something, but please publish it." I also sent copies to Hungarian and Polish publishers. In the 90s, you could find a book, look up the publisher's postal address at the end, and simply send them anything you wanted.
I received responses from Hungary and Romania, in Russian, saying, "Thank you, we'll publish it." Poland ignored me. "To hell with them," I thought, feeling a sense of vindictive pride.
Later, those letters were stolen from me, and I also lost the publishing houses' addresses. The times were such that at 15 years old in 1995, you didn't have the luxury to focus on publishing. Being 15 in 1995 was vastly different from being 15 in 2005 or even 2015. So, I'm not sure what happened afterward, but I got the satisfaction I needed at my 15.
For years, I wore my principles like a badge of honor, declaring my refusal to engage with those who couldn't appreciate the names Fred, Joyce, and the like.
But now I’ve grown up. Dear editor, you were right all along. Perhaps you should have written on a warmer note for a stupid naïve child? Maybe you should have explained it in simpler terms, not as an adult would. But of course, those were busy times; you had no room for such considerations in the '90s. And yet, if you endorsed that Ronshin project, I can't help but question your judgment.
Nevertheless, I'll leave Ronshin and the rest to your conscience. You offered sound advice, made the right call, and saved me from future embarrassment, even though I didn't see it at the time.
I'm currently enjoying a delightful book by a Bulgarian author titled "The World Awaits You." It's a charming fantasy, essentially a direct nod to Sailor Moon. The plot revolves around five girls, the world's saviors, who lead ordinary lives until a benevolent corporation awakens them to train and battle whenever Earth faces peril. The narrative is quite predictable: the girls engage in battles, share meals, and engage in trivial conversations, while the villains concoct schemes and seethe with anger, all set in a quaint British town.
My critiques are twofold. Firstly, the 16-year-old protagonists speak in an unnaturally stilted and literary manner, devoid of the vibrant reactions one would expect from their age. They remind me of the didactic characters from old anime series—uniformly articulate, lacking any distinctive slang or dialect that might add depth to their personalities. (in Mamnik, on the contrary, there’s an intrusive dialect spoken by SOME old people from the village, but it’s very intrusive, also annoying, man, damn it, we understand about the materiel, stop it ). Well, like, both adult villains and 16-year-olds speak the same way.
Secondly, I question the author's choice to set the story in a fictional British town. A narrative rooted in Bulgarian culture, featuring Bulgarian heroines, would have been far more compelling. Incorporating local mythology and settings would have lent authenticity and richness to the tale.
Despite its well-crafted prose, the book feels like a missed opportunity—a derivative work lacking in originality. The author, though young and evidently inspired by Sailor Moon, has fallen into the trap of imitation that I once encountered in my own writing journey with "The Secret of Green Roses."
But he is too a young author, well, older than me at the time of writing The Secret of Green Roses, but still very young. And he watched some alike Sailor Moon and was impressed, just as I was then impressed by all sorts of mystery-seekers and nancy-dru.
Damn.
"Oh, Olya, how I wish you could see yourself from the outside"
The Great Soviet fairy tale "The Kingdom of Crooked Mirrors" and its lessons :)))
So, learn lessons of the great books sooner, not later, folks!
* Mowgli and Kaa are in the jungle. Kaa is resting after a meal, while Mowgli is jumping around.
Mowgli: Kaa, Kaa, can you reach the Sun?
Kaa: No, Mowgli, I can't reach the Sun. It's far and high.
Mowgli: Kaa! Kaa! What about Baloo, strong Baloo, can he reach the Sun?
Kaa: No, Mowgli, even strong Baloo can't reach the Sun. It's too far away.
Mowgli: And Bagheera, swift Bagheera, can he reach the Sun?
Kaa, losing his patience: No, Mowgli, Bagheera can't reach the Sun either! Let me nap!
Mowgli: Okay... Kaa! Kaa! What about me, can I reach the Sun?
Kaa: Yes, Mowgli, you can reach the Sun! You're so reaching.
April 5, 2024
479
The creative challenge of the day for the game #I_am_here_eternity. You have the freedom to join the game (and quit it) whenever you want. Follow your curiosity and do the tasks that spark your interest. And those that you don't like - ignore them. The reward of the game (with consistent and diligent effort (and practice) of tasks) - a richer and happier life.
479.Sudoku in pictures. Arrange the pictures so that each square, each row vertically and horizontally contains 6 different images.
#I_am_here_eternity
https://us-a.tapas.io/a/ea/8aba40e6-6...
479.Sudoku in pictures. Arrange the pictures so that each square, each row vertically and horizontally contains 6 different images.
#I_am_here_eternity
https://us-a.tapas.io/a/ea/8aba40e6-6...
April 2, 2024
cheerful people
#Cheerful_People
At last, we visited the Orbita book club. We tried for so long (we even read a few books from past meetings!) and finally, it happened.
Our persistence paid off; the meeting was fantastic!
We discussed Magda Szabó's book "The Door".
I'm not sure what to tell you about, whether it's the cool people we met there or the book itself.
Well, after all, people are personal, so let's talk about the book. But overall, we're glad we went. It was an incredibly pleasant meeting with intellectual people, just as you'd imagine a book club to be.
And all the new acquaintances were delightful, and it turns out Anna-Maria was there, whom we already know from various literary events at the library! And she recognized us too, saying - oh, I already know most of this group of birds of a feather flock together)))
Everyone was terribly nice. But Bulgarians, in general, are mostly nice and friendly. Yep, unlike our compatriots and those bros from the other side. But moreover, everyone was there... well, subtly intelligent, well-read, profound.
Strangely, it was one of the best meetings in recent times, and yet I've taken so long to write a post. Well, that happens to me sometimes.
It's because the approach to conducting internet narratives, I don't know what to call the chatter on the web pages now, all has changed. I miss the old approach; I liked it the most, but somehow I can't go back. And with the new one, you constantly need to tie together a bunch of things, emphasize a bunch of things, and that takes time.
Just writing like before, it's fun, but because of the information overload and the deluge of info, I just feel sorry for people because their attention is already so fragmented, and to just tug at them with trifles... on the other hand, they'll spend less time on the short stuff and absorb the information more easily than a long read. Alright, I'll think about it some more. There's also the trouble that my blog is now general, like, directly for long-reads-updates and for personal stuff, and the personal has become so thoughtfully cumbersome. Of course, one could just constantly tweet into Telegram, for example, and transfer the good stuff straight to the blog (fb isn't for it with their censorship it's not a platform for speaking out anymore)... and if Telegram dies, well, the important stuff, as I wanted, will remain in the blog.
In short, the Orbita book club is great, we'll definitely go to there again! And you, who are in Varna, come along, it's really cool))!
I'll write about the book in a separate post. With marked opinions from the meeting.
At last, we visited the Orbita book club. We tried for so long (we even read a few books from past meetings!) and finally, it happened.
Our persistence paid off; the meeting was fantastic!
We discussed Magda Szabó's book "The Door".
I'm not sure what to tell you about, whether it's the cool people we met there or the book itself.
Well, after all, people are personal, so let's talk about the book. But overall, we're glad we went. It was an incredibly pleasant meeting with intellectual people, just as you'd imagine a book club to be.
And all the new acquaintances were delightful, and it turns out Anna-Maria was there, whom we already know from various literary events at the library! And she recognized us too, saying - oh, I already know most of this group of birds of a feather flock together)))
Everyone was terribly nice. But Bulgarians, in general, are mostly nice and friendly. Yep, unlike our compatriots and those bros from the other side. But moreover, everyone was there... well, subtly intelligent, well-read, profound.
Strangely, it was one of the best meetings in recent times, and yet I've taken so long to write a post. Well, that happens to me sometimes.
It's because the approach to conducting internet narratives, I don't know what to call the chatter on the web pages now, all has changed. I miss the old approach; I liked it the most, but somehow I can't go back. And with the new one, you constantly need to tie together a bunch of things, emphasize a bunch of things, and that takes time.
Just writing like before, it's fun, but because of the information overload and the deluge of info, I just feel sorry for people because their attention is already so fragmented, and to just tug at them with trifles... on the other hand, they'll spend less time on the short stuff and absorb the information more easily than a long read. Alright, I'll think about it some more. There's also the trouble that my blog is now general, like, directly for long-reads-updates and for personal stuff, and the personal has become so thoughtfully cumbersome. Of course, one could just constantly tweet into Telegram, for example, and transfer the good stuff straight to the blog (fb isn't for it with their censorship it's not a platform for speaking out anymore)... and if Telegram dies, well, the important stuff, as I wanted, will remain in the blog.
In short, the Orbita book club is great, we'll definitely go to there again! And you, who are in Varna, come along, it's really cool))!
I'll write about the book in a separate post. With marked opinions from the meeting.
April 1, 2024
Conspiracy of the Broken
#Hi_from_reality
Art&concept by Ol Albireo
Feel free to write your stories and name arts.
You also can do not only write, but draw, sing, create music and sculptures, translate into other languages you learn for practicing (and never simplify text when you translate it!). Show us that you did.
Conspiracy of the Broken
"It broke again. This must be some kind of conspiracy, a conspiracy of the broken."
"What are you talking about? What conspiracy? It's just the life cycle and service life. If it's broken, fix it."
"But how can you fix something that was made to be broken? It was destined to break. I'm broken down just looking at all these broken things. Broken things lead to broken people, and broken people create more broken things. It's a vicious cycle of the broken."
"Exactly, the broken beget the broken, and the whole beget the whole. Therefore, the broken must be mended. Have something delicious, listen to some uplifting music, cheer yourself up, and then tackle the repairs."
For the Emergence writing workshop, AlbireoMKG
https://us-a.tapas.io/a/77/c27aad57-8...
Art&concept by Ol Albireo
Feel free to write your stories and name arts.
You also can do not only write, but draw, sing, create music and sculptures, translate into other languages you learn for practicing (and never simplify text when you translate it!). Show us that you did.
Conspiracy of the Broken
"It broke again. This must be some kind of conspiracy, a conspiracy of the broken."
"What are you talking about? What conspiracy? It's just the life cycle and service life. If it's broken, fix it."
"But how can you fix something that was made to be broken? It was destined to break. I'm broken down just looking at all these broken things. Broken things lead to broken people, and broken people create more broken things. It's a vicious cycle of the broken."
"Exactly, the broken beget the broken, and the whole beget the whole. Therefore, the broken must be mended. Have something delicious, listen to some uplifting music, cheer yourself up, and then tackle the repairs."
For the Emergence writing workshop, AlbireoMKG
https://us-a.tapas.io/a/77/c27aad57-8...
March 30, 2024
478
The creative challenge of the day for the game #I_am_here_eternity. You have the freedom to join the game (and quit it) whenever you want. Follow your curiosity and do the tasks that spark your interest. And those that you don't like - ignore them. The reward of the game (with consistent and diligent effort (and practice) of tasks) - a richer and happier life.
478. Walk through the labyrinth
#I_am_here_eternity
https://us-a.tapas.io/a/e2/3c837369-e...
478. Walk through the labyrinth
#I_am_here_eternity
https://us-a.tapas.io/a/e2/3c837369-e...
March 29, 2024
we are praised
#We_are_praised
Donna Nochesvetka's Review for my short story "I love bringing joy to people"
I've received a review from Donna Nochesvetka that is particularly good, not only because it's a balm for the author's heart, but also because it clearly communicates the essence of the story to readers. You can read the story for free here: https://albireo-mkg.com/free but it's still in Russian.
I wanted translating it quickly, but it has 90 pages of word, so, it can't be quickly. I considered it as 7-page short story 0_o
However!
https://albireomkgblogeng.wordpress.c...
Donna Nochesvetka's Review for my short story "I love bringing joy to people"
I've received a review from Donna Nochesvetka that is particularly good, not only because it's a balm for the author's heart, but also because it clearly communicates the essence of the story to readers. You can read the story for free here: https://albireo-mkg.com/free but it's still in Russian.
I wanted translating it quickly, but it has 90 pages of word, so, it can't be quickly. I considered it as 7-page short story 0_o
However!
https://albireomkgblogeng.wordpress.c...
March 25, 2024
so good
Today, we acquired the first installment of Marin Troshanov's trilogy, "Lamya Ltd." without which he came to the meeting with readers))) It's quite a rare find—as the print run is sold out everywhere, one can only purchase it second-hand or borrow from a library. We bought a second-hand copy. Now, our collection is complete. It's a Bulgarian ethno-urban fantasy series with horror elements, rooted in Bulgarian folklore.
It's my favorite genre.
It's my favorite genre.
Old friend
#Hi_from_reality
Art&concept by Ol Albireo
Feel free to write your stories and name arts.
You also can do not only write, but draw, sing, create music and sculptures, translate into other languages you learn for practicing (and never simplify text when you translate it!). Show us that you did.
Old friend
"What happened to your phone?" Odo inquired.
"Ohe, a monkey tricked me in the jungle. We were in Kalimantan at the time, and I chased after it... It climbed a tree to escape me, and I called out: 'Let's make a trade!' I started tossing nuts and fruits to it, and finally, it threw my phone back to me. Just like this.But it turned out that the monkey turned on the camera and I have a video of the jungle from above the trees!" He chuckled again, scrolled through on the device, and turned it on "One of the best videos on the entire Internet was made by a monkey!"
Odo smiled subtly, admiring the dense, vibrant greenery and the unusual flowers in the video. He could see all this with his own eyes. A wave of bitterness and anger began to swell within him. But then he thought, 'Well, okay! The flowers in my garden are just as good!'
"Why don't you change your phone?" Odo asked.
"What? No! It's been through battles with me. You don't swap old friends for a pretty new shell. It has its stories, and I have mine. We share them afterward. Sometimes, it's the only conversation partner I have. I'll replace its screen, of course, tighten everything up, fix it—oh, it's bound to run into trouble again; that's just its nature. I've repaired it so many times... but then again, how many times have I had to patch myself up? Still, it's one thing after another, ah."
The captain gestured dismissively and burst into hearty laughter.
The dialog for the Literature Workshop Emergence, Varna, Bulgaria. AlbireoMKG
https://us-a.tapas.io/a/ac/19ef483e-4...
Art&concept by Ol Albireo
Feel free to write your stories and name arts.
You also can do not only write, but draw, sing, create music and sculptures, translate into other languages you learn for practicing (and never simplify text when you translate it!). Show us that you did.
Old friend
"What happened to your phone?" Odo inquired.
"Ohe, a monkey tricked me in the jungle. We were in Kalimantan at the time, and I chased after it... It climbed a tree to escape me, and I called out: 'Let's make a trade!' I started tossing nuts and fruits to it, and finally, it threw my phone back to me. Just like this.But it turned out that the monkey turned on the camera and I have a video of the jungle from above the trees!" He chuckled again, scrolled through on the device, and turned it on "One of the best videos on the entire Internet was made by a monkey!"
Odo smiled subtly, admiring the dense, vibrant greenery and the unusual flowers in the video. He could see all this with his own eyes. A wave of bitterness and anger began to swell within him. But then he thought, 'Well, okay! The flowers in my garden are just as good!'
"Why don't you change your phone?" Odo asked.
"What? No! It's been through battles with me. You don't swap old friends for a pretty new shell. It has its stories, and I have mine. We share them afterward. Sometimes, it's the only conversation partner I have. I'll replace its screen, of course, tighten everything up, fix it—oh, it's bound to run into trouble again; that's just its nature. I've repaired it so many times... but then again, how many times have I had to patch myself up? Still, it's one thing after another, ah."
The captain gestured dismissively and burst into hearty laughter.
The dialog for the Literature Workshop Emergence, Varna, Bulgaria. AlbireoMKG
https://us-a.tapas.io/a/ac/19ef483e-4...
From Firokami
Writer. Socialist. Psychologist. Translator. Cosmopolitan. Internationalist. Esperantist. Gay. Polyglot. Friendly. Ruiner of the communicative barriers. Xenophobia-hater. Religion - is evil. Family -
...more
- Svyatoslav Albireo's profile
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