A member of WriteOn Joliet, this was Ken's rendition of an assignment for a topic simply called, "summer."
Summertime In Sunny
Severnaya
By Ken McGee
Taras Arkady rubbed his permanently
stained dirty hand through his matted heavy black beard. He lay on his back
under a thick goose-down comforter. The smell of freshly brewed coffee reached
his nostrils. He absentmindedly reached out and felt Marat, his Siberian husky,
lying next to him. When the sizzle of frying salo reached his ears, he moved
out from under the comforter and sat on the edge of the thin mattress on the
wooden bed frame. Marat jumped down and trotted into the cooking area only ten
feet away on the opposite wall of the windowless, one-room dwelling. Taras
groaned as he stretched his arms over his head. He turned back and forth in a
vain effort to loosen the stiff muscles of his back. His neck cracked audibly
as he bent his head to the side. He slipped his insulated boots over his thick
woolen socks. The bed frame groaned as he lifted his 250 pounds and stood to
his full height of six and a half feet.
Daria
Zakhar turned around and waved her iron spatula at Marat. “You will get your
share, but only after we have eaten.” Her breath hung in the air like a cloud
of frozen dust.
Marat
barked once, then sat on his haunches in strict obedience.
“This
is the last of the coffee, Taras.”
“That
it has lasted this long is indeed a surprise.” Taras grabbed his Mickey Mouse
mug from the wooden shelf above the coal-fired stove. He poured a cup of the
thick brew. He swallowed half of it as he put an arm around his six foot tall
blonde companion. “I suppose I will have to make a trip into Severnaya soon.”
“It
cannot be avoided much longer. We are down to our last bottle of Double Blow.”
“We
cannot run out of vodka! Coffee I can live without, but not my vodka.” His
laughter filled the room. “I will be back in a moment.” He grabbed his gloves
and fur-lined parka.
“I
tried to make it to the coal shed yesterday, but it was still blocked.” Daria
held her hands over the stove in a futile attempt to keep them warm. “I could
see most of it though.”
Taras
opened the door and peered into the bright sunshine. He took ten steps into the
wind. He looked around, then spat at a pesky weasel. His face registered
surprise, so he spat again. He traced his footsteps back inside.
“Daria,
I have good news.” His face beamed.
“What
is it, Taras?”
“It must be
summer because my spittle did not freeze until it landed on the snow.”
And catching up...
Fermenting an interest in beer
Lockport librarian home brews, presents educational programs
Joliet ex-drug addict isn't letting cancer stop his foundation work
He's hosting his fifth annual Back to School fair tomorrow, despite battling stage four lymphoma and stage two lung cancer.
Hopstring Fest to feature regional as well as local talent
Except for the headliner band, everything is local: The other thirty bands, the food vendors, the beer suppliers, the sponsors, the charity recipients.
Beer Geeks host fourth Midwest Brewers Fest for charity
Over 200 different beers to try, including some rare beers and cask ales. Whew!
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