Our board books Ilya Mazayev "Ichtment" The bear hated the collective farm, so he scorned to shoot from the railing. amateurism. After looking at the support of the power line bent in two, he and the summer resident left the reckless formations of the homeless, so while delving into the stone jungle on the right, they chose a more satisfactory place. The bear, as soon as the flight began, realized that the smarter women were diving behind the pile of stones. The mouth of the dry creek was blackened with yellowish bodies, but the lucky ones arrived safely at the shelter. And what there is - only God knows. Under the support, the bear looked around. A gorge opened into the landscape, the spirits huddled together, lay side by side, breathing, cursing Allah for the installation. Or they thank you. One waves his hands actively and persistently, managing to simultaneously dictate something to the radio. The bear is estimated: six hundred meters - no more. He aimed calmly at the center of the nearest group; The shot hit unexpectedly. As soon as the vision raven fell back, I returned. Shoulder push, second, third, fourth magazine change. Shoot, shoot, shoot. A bunch of people started to rise like a swarm of flies, but the bodies remained lying in the ravine. kick. Magazine replacement shot. Hell breaks loose, the bravest begin to break back. But he whistles very high, a meter above your head. There are bright spots of flashes in the viewfinder. A tight ricochet screamed. The summer resident pours water over his ear from a machine gun, as if from a sprinkler. movement. mark right. kick. Yera didn't miss even once. mockingly, cruelly, without punishment. I only calmed down when there was a deathly silence in the ravine. There is no traffic. Scattered, tangled bodies. Dead stones, molten air over hot stones. not a soul Exhale, deeply, like a sigh of relief. The bear flinched at the sight, his unblinking gaze passed over the stones, the twisted arms, the back, the knees. Dirty "lumps" mixed with dust. The air trembles, covering the gloomy picture with a haze, but my soul is light - it is over. The excitement left and gave way to fatigue and destruction. The second layer is completely wet, even if you squeeze it out.

Our board books Ilya Mazayev "Ichtment" The bear hated the collective farm, so he scorned to shoot from the railing. amateurism. After looking at the support of the power line bent in two, he and the summer resident left the reckless formations of the homeless, so while delving into the stone jungle on the right, they chose a more satisfactory place. The bear, as soon as the flight began, realized that the smarter women were diving behind the pile of stones. The mouth of the dry creek was blackened with yellowish bodies, but the lucky ones arrived safely at the shelter. And what there is - only God knows. Under the support, the bear looked around. A gorge opened into the landscape, the spirits huddled together, lay side by side, breathing, cursing Allah for the installation. Or they thank you. One waves his hands actively and persistently, managing to simultaneously dictate something to the radio. The bear is estimated: six hundred meters - no more. He aimed calmly at the center of the nearest group; The shot hit unexpectedly. As soon as the vision raven fell back, I returned. Shoulder push, second, third, fourth magazine change. Shoot, shoot, shoot. A bunch of people started to rise like a swarm of flies, but the bodies remained lying in the ravine. kick. Magazine replacement shot. Hell breaks loose, the bravest begin to break back. But he whistles very high, a meter above your head. There are bright spots of flashes in the viewfinder. A tight ricochet screamed. The summer resident pours water over his ear from a machine gun, as if from a sprinkler. movement. mark right. kick. Yera didn't miss even once. mockingly, cruelly, without punishment. I only calmed down when there was a deathly silence in the ravine. There is no traffic. Scattered, tangled bodies. Dead stones, molten air over hot stones. not a soul Exhale, deeply, like a sigh of relief. The bear flinched at the sight, his unblinking gaze passed over the stones, the twisted arms, the back, the knees. Dirty "lumps" mixed with dust. The air trembles, covering the gloomy picture with a haze, but my soul is light - it is over. The excitement left and gave way to fatigue and destruction. The second layer is completely wet, even if you squeeze it out.