402
Awesome remake of the old aneka
Farm in the Poltava region. Steppe. The end of the summer.
Brezzhet dawn chill, dew on the grass.
On the threshold of the hut - dejected type unshaven man with a puny vsklochenymi hair and wash looks family shorts and knee razdolbany galoshes on his bare feet, wincing and seeded looking around, smoking a cigarette, hiding papirosinu fist, small and hastily puffing ...
Behind silently appears hefty babischa in nightshirt, dramatically puts him the heavy, thick hand on his shoulder.
A man (tearfully, in apparent panic, choking smoke and afraid crouching):
"Sho ?! Again e # atsya? »
Baba (with scornful tone, yawning and lazily drawled):
"Ida varenychkiv poyish, ebaka!"
Brezzhet dawn chill, dew on the grass.
On the threshold of the hut - dejected type unshaven man with a puny vsklochenymi hair and wash looks family shorts and knee razdolbany galoshes on his bare feet, wincing and seeded looking around, smoking a cigarette, hiding papirosinu fist, small and hastily puffing ...
Behind silently appears hefty babischa in nightshirt, dramatically puts him the heavy, thick hand on his shoulder.
A man (tearfully, in apparent panic, choking smoke and afraid crouching):
"Sho ?! Again e # atsya? »
Baba (with scornful tone, yawning and lazily drawled):
"Ida varenychkiv poyish, ebaka!"
