"This is not a story. So, a sketch from nature.
More than once probably watched wheelchairs and beggars in Moscow traffic jams on long traffic lights? Here. The day before yesterday I saw exactly such a picture in a snowy frosty forest near Moscow.
When a dozen two cars lined up at a closed crossing, two got up from the opposite curb, crossed an empty oncoming lane, and began a detour. Directly axial. Where they came from here, on a remote automatic crossing, where even the caretaker's booth was boarded up for a long time, is not clear. We worked calmly, competently, without fuss, through the car. In bulk, while it passes, the train. Tactics are completely traditional. The beggar simply stopped at the driver’s door, and looked through his glass with sad, watery eyes. If nothing happened for a minute, he went on, going around his colleague, who also drilled the neighboring carrier with an unobtrusive indifferent look.
Sometimes the glass of a car dropped for a second, and a hand appeared from there. Or alms just flew on axial dusted with snow. Still, the temperature difference of half a hundred almost degrees overboard and inside is not conducive to conventions. And the beggars were not scrupulous, willingly and without emotion picking handouts from the asphalt.
Probably those who regularly travel here, this couple was not new. And I watched with curiosity. Exactly until then I watched with curiosity until the line reached me. It’s very, you know, it was very difficult to withstand this calm, attentive and expressionless look.
I wanted to open the glass and shout, “Well, nothing! Nothing to help you bro! Nothing to give! "
There was nothing to give me the truth. Otherwise, I would certainly give. I even spread my arms and how I could express regret on the face.
But she drove the cruiser standing right behind me, which the second hobbled, could not stand it. He stuck a shaved head off the window and shouted in despair, “Well, I forgot, bro!
Do you understand ?! Forgot bitch spun !!! I'm on my way back, b% I will, I will pay off! I’ll go to the Penguin, buy a barbecue. ”Then he was calmer, somehow sad, added:“ Oh, trouble! I would, b %%% b, give money. But you won’t take it. ”
Fortunately, the bumpers finally clanged here, the barrier went up, and the beggars as if on command returned to their place. They sat on the side of the road and began to look after the receding cavalcade of cars, which was the only source of their existence. And wait for the next train.
A pair of perfectly typical, as dark as two drops of water, dark gray shaggy homeless mutts ... "