Five O'Clock FAST
We walked and walked and sang "Memory Eternal", and when stopped, it seemed, that its zalazhennomu continue to sing his feet, horses, wind blow.
Passers passed procession, considered wreaths, baptized.
Curious included in the procession, asked: "Who is buried?"They answered: "Zhivago". "That's it. Then it is clear". - "Let not him. Her". - "Does not matter. The Kingdom of heaven. Funeral rich ".
Flashed the last minutes, few, irrevocable.
"Earth is the Lord and the fullness thereof, the universe and all ye that dwell therein ". Priest baptizing movement threw a handful of earth on Maria Nikolaevna. Sang "Over the spirits of the righteous". It began a terrible race. The coffin was closed, zakolotyly, being lowered.
Rain rattled off clods, which hastily four spades threw grave. She grew up a mound. He went on a ten-year boy.
Only in a state of torpor and insensibility, usually coming to the end of the large funeral, It might seem, the boy wants to say a word on the mother's grave.
He raised his head and looked around the dais fall vacant lots and the head of the monastery missing eye. His snub-nosed face contorted. His neck stretched. If such a motion raised his head wolf, it would be clear, he was going to howl. Bury one's face in one's hands, the boy cried. Cloud flying forward was to whip his hands and face with wet lashes cold shower.
By the tomb was a man in black, with assemblies on the narrow-fitting sleeves. It was the late brother and uncle were crying boy, defrocked priest on his own petition Nikolai Vedenyapin. He walked over to the boy and took him to the cemetery.