Грязная корова ЭрикаДавид Лигнелл Р

Грязная корова Эрика
Давид Лигнелл

Ручей тянулся серебряной лентой по тропам, которые соединяют две далёкие парки. Мы долго гуляли, исследуя губчатый подлесок около узкого ручья, когда Эрик поскользнулся в грязе. Я посмотрел как он встал и стёр грязь от его рук. Я тяжело вздохнул к себе. Наверное его мать поднимает шум когда она видит грязь на его джинсах и новой куртке. Откидывая прядь светлый волос, он сделал новую полосу грязи на лбу. Он подошёл к ровному известняком и, топая ногой, разбросал кусоки грязи везде. Когда он очистил грязь с его сапог о край камня, я тогда знал что произойдет. Эрик присел и начал ударять свой сапог снова и снова кулаком.

"Прекрати, Эрик."
"Но грязь прилипла ко мне, и я не могу счистить." Слезы навернулись на его глаза, и кожа около его рта натянулась.
"Прекрати! Прекрати прямо сейчас!" Он продолжил колотить по сапогу и я схватил его тонкие запястья в середине качели. Он дёрнул свою руку и остался присел, держа руки плотно прижаты к бокам, словно черепаха прячется в панцирь.

Когда он был ребенком, у Эрика было периоды времени когда он часто ударялся головой о детской кроватке пока он был отмечен с глубокой, фиолетовый кровоподтек.
В детском саду, он рисовал мультипликационных героев и сразу смял их и колотил по столу. И сегодня, когда ему восемь лет, Эрик всё ещё колотит чтобы справляться.

"Смотри, это грязно," я рассудил, " ты будешь грязный." Эрик меня игнорировал и продолжал горбиться под защитной оболочкой, его голубые глаза на меня смотрят.

Я не знал что делать. Был конец марта с ярким канзасским солнцем над нами: хорошее причение чтобы оттащить Эрика от Nintendo 64 и от мультфильмов субботы утра. И до сих пор, мы замечательно проводили время, в то время как мы искали следы кролика, наблюдали белок, и ходили тропинки вдоль ручья. Какофония чириканьа птиц трясла меня от моих мыслей. Я взглянул на небе и посмотрел как чёрный дрозд нанес сильный и парящий, чтобы улететь от двух воробьев, которые прогоняли его с их территории. Я присел рядом с Эриком и показывал пальцем ввысь.

"Смотри на этих птиц, Эрик."

Я увидел небольшое движение - подёргивание около его глаз, но он не будет выглядеть.
Я стоял и вдохнул запах мокрой земли и выдохнул через рот.

"Этот чёрный дрозд не улетел из-за тех воробьев, ты знаешь. Чёрные дрозды не боятся крошечных птиц. Знаешь почему он действительно улетел?" Я понизил голос и говорил равномерно. "Он заметил существа ниже, который превратил его чёрные глаза в стекло и его лёгкие кости в лёд. Я сделал паузу. Я решил ничего не сделать пока он что-то сказал. В конце концов, он сломал тишину.

"Что?" сказал он.

Визжав крик птиц, я перекатился на земле и подбросил огромные горсти грязи в воздух. Я оглянулся на его, и он пристально смотрел на меня с открытым ртом.

"Чёрный дрозд боялся меня: грязная корова монстер!" Я закончил мой спектакль с кувыроком в грязи, который закончился слишком близко к тернового куста. Эрик начался смеяться. Он подбросил грязь и кричал крик птиц со мной. Я стёр грязь, которая покрыла мою одежду. Когда я поднимал глаза, я опять увидел как Эрик, улыбающийся, меня смотрел. Какое красивое лица у него есть когда он улыбается.

"Пора вернуться домой, сынок. Скоро будет обед."
"Подожди папа. Секундочку." Эрик стал на колени, схватал ломоть сухого грязи, и дал этот ломоть мне.
"Для меня?" спросил я. Он кивал головой.
"Ладно" сказал я, не зная как реагировать.
"Это какашки грязной коровы."

Я взглянул на ломоть и я почувствовал боль в животе. Мои глаза слезилися и я мигнул чтобы остановиться слёзы. Мы с Эриком сблизились друг с другом благодаря какашками. Но как только я закончил эту мысль, я чувствовал шлепок грязи через мой храм.

"Осторожно, монстер опять делает какашки!" Эрик посмеялся и быстро подбежал к машине - его настроение сейчас так ярко, как солнце, Канзас.






конец

Results (English) 1:

Dirty cow EricaDavid Lignell Stream stretched silver band along the paths that connect two distant parks. We walked for a long time, exploring the spongy undergrowth beside a narrow stream, when Eric slipped in the mud. I looked up as he stood up and swept away the dirt from his hands. I heavily sighed to himself. Probably his mother cries when she sees the dirt on his jeans and a new jacket. Otkidyvaâ strand of light hair, he made the new strip of dirt on his forehead. He came to smooth limestone and topaâ foot, kusoki dirt scattered everywhere. When he cleaned the mud off his boots on the edge of the stone, I knew what would happen. Eric sat down and started hitting my boots again and again with his fist."Stop, Eric.""But mud stuck to me, and I cannot scratch." tears welled up in his eyes, and the skin around his mouth tight."Stop! Stop right now! "he continued pounding on sapogu and I grabbed his thin wrist in mid swing. He dërnul his hand and stayed crouched, holding hands tightly pressed to the sides, like a turtle hiding in shell. When he was a child, Eric had periods when he often hits his head on cot until it was marked with a deep purple bruise.In kindergarten, he drew cartoon heroes and immediately crumpled them up and bashed on the table. And today, when he is eight years old, Eric still batters to handle."Look, it's dirty," I reasoned, "thou shalt be messy." Eric ignored me and continued to gorbit′sâ under the protective sheath, his blue eyes looking at me.I don't know what to do. Was the end of March, with bright sun with Kansas over us: good pričenie to disengage the Erika from Nintendo 64 and from Saturday morning cartoons. And so far, we have a wonderful time while we searched for traces of a rabbit, squirrels, and walked the trails along the Creek. Cacophony čirikan′a birds was rocking me from my thoughts. I glanced at the sky and looked like a Blackbird caused strong and soaring to fly away from the two sparrows, which drove him from their territory. I sat down next to Eric and showed a finger skyward."Look at these birds, Eric."I saw a small movement-twitching around his eyes, but he will not look. I stood and breathed the scent of wet earth and breathed out through the mouth. "The Blackbird flew not because those sparrows, you know. Blackbirds are not afraid of tiny birds. Do you know why it really flies? "I lowered voice and spoke evenly. "He noticed the substance below, who turned his evil eyes in the glass and its lightweight bones in ice. I paused. I decided to do nothing until he said something. In the end, he broke the silence."What?" he said.Vizžav Creek birds, I rolled on the ground and planted a huge handfuls of dirt into the air. I looked back at him and he looked at me closely with my mouth open."Blackbird was afraid of me: dirty cow Monster!" I finished my performance with kuvyrokom in the mud, which ended too close to the midst of a Bush. Eric began to laugh. He planted the mud and screamed the cry of birds with me. I swept away dirt that covered my clothes. When I raised my eyes I saw again as Eric, smiling, I watched. What a beautiful person he has when he smiles."It's time to go home, son. Soon it will be lunch. ""Wait for dad. Wait a second. "Eric kneel, shvatal became a hunk of dry mud, and gave this hunk I."For me?" I asked. He nodding your head. "Okay," I said, not knowing how to respond."This shit is dirty cows."I glanced at the hunk and I felt pain in my stomach. My eyes are slezilisâ and I flashed to stop tears. We are Eric approached each other through kakaškami. But as soon as I finished that thought, I felt a slap dirt through my temple."Beware of Monster again makes shit!" Eric laughed and quickly ran to the car, his mood now as bright as the Sun, Kansas.The end

Results (English) 2:

Dirty Cow Eric
David Lignell Creek silver ribbon stretched along the paths that connect two distant parks. We took a long walk exploring the spongy undergrowth around the narrow creek, when Eric slipped in the mud. I watched how he stood up and wiped the dirt from his hands. I sighed to myself. Probably his mother make a fuss when she sees the dirt on his jeans and a new jacket. Throwing a strand of blond hair, he made ​​a new strip of mud on his forehead. He walked to the smooth limestone and, stamping his foot, a piece of dirt scattered everywhere. When he cleared the mud from his boots on the edge of the stone, then I knew what would happen. Eric sat down and started hitting his boots again and again with his fist. "Stop it, Eric." "But the dirt stuck to me, and I can not clean off." Tears welled up in his eyes and the skin around his mouth tightened. "Stop it! Stop it right now!" He continued to bang on the boots and I grabbed his thin wrists in the middle of a swing. He pulled his hand and remained crouched, his hands pressed against the sides, like a turtle hiding in shell. When he was a boy, Eric had periods of time when he often bumped his head on the crib until it was marked with deep purple bruise. The kindergarten, he drew cartoon characters and immediately crushed them and banging on the table. And today, when he was eight years old, Eric still batters to cope. "Look, it's dirty," I reasoned, "you'll be dirty." Eric ignored me and continued to hunch under a protective shell, his blue eyes looking at me. I did not know what to do. It was the end of March with a bright Kansas sun above us: cause any good to pull Eric from Nintendo 64 and on Saturday morning cartoons. And so far, we have a great time while we were looking for traces of rabbit protein was observed, and walked the path along the stream. The cacophony of bird chirping shook me from my thoughts. I looked at the sky and looked like a blackbird swerving and soaring to fly from the two sparrows who chased him from their territory. I sat next to Eric and pointed his finger skyward. "Look at these birds, Eric." I saw a little movement - twitching near his eye, but he will not look. I stood there and breathed in the smell of wet earth and breathed through his mouth. "This black blackbird flew away because of the sparrows, you know. blackbird are not afraid of tiny birds. Do you know why he really fall? " I lowered my voice and spoke evenly. "He saw beings below who turned his black eyes in glass and light bones in the ice. I paused. I decided to do nothing until he said something. After all, he broke the silence." What? "He said . screeching cries of birds, I rolled on the ground and threw great handfuls of dirt in the air. I looked back at him and he stared at me with his mouth open. "The blackbird was afraid of me: dirty cow monster!" I finished my performance with a roll in dirt, which ended too close to the bush. Eric began to laugh. He threw dirt and cried the cry of birds with me. I wiped the dirt that covered my clothes. When I raised my eyes, I again saw Eric, smiling, I'm watching. What beautiful face he has when he smiles. "It's time to go home, son. Soon there will be dinner. "" Wait a dad. Wait a second. "Eric knelt skhvatal hunk of dry mud, and gave the slice of me." For me? "I asked. He nodded." Okay, "I said, not knowing how to react." This shit dirty cow. "I looked at the hunk and I felt pain in my stomach. My eyes watered and I blinked to stop the tears. Eric and I became closer to each other due to the poop. But as soon as I finished that thought, I felt a slap of mud through my church. "Carefully, monster again making shit! "Eric laughed and quickly ran to the car - it is now the mood as bright as the sun, Kansas. end

Results (English) 3:

dirty cow eric david лигнелл


the creek was a silver ribbon on the trails, which connect two distant parks. we walked for a long time, exploring the cancellous in some narrow stream, when eric slipped into the soil.i watched as he got up and wiped the mud from his hands. hard i sighed to himself. maybe his mother makes a noise when she sees the dirt on his jeans and a jacket. откидывая a strand of blonde hairhe made a new line of mud on his forehead. he came to a straight limestone and stomping feet, scattered кусоки mud everywhere. when he cleaned the mud off his boot on the stone, i then knew that this would happen.eric sat down and started to hit your boot again and again with his fist.

"stop, eric."
"but the dirt stuck to me, and i can't scrape." tears in my eyes, the skin around his mouth got pulled.
"stop!stop it right now! " he continued to bang on his boots and i grabbed his thin wrists in mid swing. he pulled my hand and stay down, holding hands tightly pinned to the side, like a turtle hiding in the shell.

when he was a child, eric had periods when he often hit his head on the crib until he was marked with deep purple bruises.
in kindergarten,he drew a cartoon characters and immediately crushed out of them and banged on the table. and today, when he was eight years old, eric still beats to cope.

"look, it's dirty," i suggested, "you dirty."eric ignored me and continued slouch under the protective shell, his blue eyes looking at me

i don't know what to do. the end of march with a канзасским sun above us.good причение to get erica from the nintendo 64 and from saturday morning cartoons. and still, we had some good times, while we were looking for traces of the rabbit watching squirrels, and walking paths along the creek.the breadth чириканьа birds shook me from my thoughts. i looked at the sky and watched as the blackbird was a strong and a soaring to fly two sparrows, who throw him from their territories.i sat down next to her and put your finger up.

"look at these birds, eric."

i saw little movement - twitch around his eyes, but he's not gonna look.
i stood there and smell the wet land and выдохнул through the mouth.

"the blackbird flew away from those sparrows, you know. black "don't fear the tiny birds. do you know why he left?"i lowered voice and said evenly." he spotted the creature below, which turned his black eyes in the glass and his lungs, bones in the ice. i made a break. i decided to do nothing until he said something. in the end,he broke the silence.

"what?" he said.

визжав bird calls, i must have rolled to his land and planted big handfuls of dirt in the air. i looked back at him, and he stared at me with his mouth open.

"blackbird was afraid of me.dirty cow monster! " i finished my performance кувыроком in mud, which is too close to the crown of the bush. eric began to laugh. he threw dirt and screaming bird calls to me. i wiped the mud,which covered my clothes. when i raised my eyes, i again saw eric, smiling, i looked. what a beautiful person he had when he smiles.

"it's time to go home, son. soon to be dinner. "
" wait, daddy.a second. "eric was on his knees, схватал slice dry mud, and gave the slice i.
" for me? " i asked. he nodded his head.
"okay" i said, not knowing how to react.
"it's the poop dirty cow."

i looked at the slice and i felt a pain in my stomach. i blinked my eyes слезилися and to stop the tears. eric and i bonded with each other through the feces. but as soon as i finish this thoughti felt like slapping the dirt in my temple.

"watch the monster's doing it!" eric laughed and quickly ran to the car, his mood is as bright as the sun, kansas.







end