Post by kolya on Dec 19, 2020 11:27:40 GMT -5
Teo Blaze Hall fo Fame, Karlie Nash same old game, Andre Jenson back again, Flop and Alice hanging in.
Azurine hot mess, Sierra Siver could be next, Sara Pettis tough fight, Jim Mud out of sight.
Kolya has fight to come
Trey Bouchet suplex dean, Orret is a bid queen, Spayde is a big thing, JC Keeton Rookie King.
Nidrah always tries her best, Alex Scott just a mess, Phoenix is a tough one, Stella keeps fighting on.
Reo Rajin bright star, Soldada not so far, Void needs payback, Zmac never came back
Randy Shane Vivian Rae, who the @#$%^&* are they.
Kolya didn''t start fire. But it always burning since WCF returning. Kolya didn't start fire, you can't fight it, not try to hide it.
December 25, 2010
Snow lightly falls on a dark street as the muffled thud of thick boots echoes through the sparse tableau. A lone figure hunches deeper into a threadbare overcoat, collar turned up against the night chill, as he trods through the freshly fallen snow towards a dark grey tenement building sitting squat against the night sky like a crestfallen gargoyle.
Stomping slowly up the cracked grey concrete stairs, the lone figure fishes into his worn overcoat with numb fingers for a crude, crooked key and forces it into the cracked iron lock, grunting with the effort of twisting crooked steel into cracked iron. A loud click reverbarates through the chilled night air as the lock mechanism releases. With a tired shove he opens the thick steel door and steps inside.
A long flight of stairs leads directly upward into stygian blackness as the lone figure ascends slowly, with a gait that belies a grace and a practiced step of one who has walked these stairs a million times or more. Walking through a pool of light from a starkly bright bare lighbuld on the first landing reveals a face set in a visage of deep thought ad concern. A mind with something weighty on it.
Reaching the second floor, he moved quickly down the hall to the sole red door at the end. Using the same worn keys in his hand he reaches out and unlocks a shiny new deadbolt lock mounted on a starkly clean door and opens it. Moving inside he places the keys on a spare wooden table by the door and calls out a greeting
Мама я дома
(Mother, I'm Home)
A voice calls out from another room
Ужин готов, Ани
(Dinner is ready, Ani)
Kolya hangs the threadbare overcoat up on a worn hook beside the door and moves into the kitchen where a grey haired lady bustles about the kitchen putting plates down on a large, rough-hewn, sturdy table that dominated the center of the small room. He sat down at the near end of the expansive table and began moving plates nearer to him.
Приди, мама, сядь и ешь. Где отец?
(Come Mother, sit and eat. Where's Father?)
The sturdy grey-haired lady took the seat nearest Kolya. She also began moving plates around.
Опять работает допоздна. как прошла твоя встреча?
(Working late. How was your meeting?)
Kolya smiled broadly at his mother and reached into his shirt pocket. With an exaggerated flourish he dropped a plane ticket onto the table. Her eyes went to it and moved up to Kolya's face, a mixture of joy and sadness filling hers.
Они хотят меня. Утром уезжаю в Берлин, чтобы начать тренировку. Один шаг ближе к большой маме
(I leave for Berlin in the morning. One step closer to the big time)
Kolya's mother lept to her feet and threw her arms around him, pulling him in tightly.
Я так горжусь тобой. Я знал, что ты справишься
(I knew you could doit. I'm proud of you)
The scene fades as she embraces her son, a glint of moisture welling up in her eyes as she stares off into space.