Rynok

Childhood market. Collective farm collective farm) but still something in it is from the past.

The market is small, not everything can be bought.

The market is big, but there are a lot of closed points, the choice is small and the prices are too high

Part 1. Morning Every morning, even under the stars, Jakob Ivanovich Bach woke up and, lying under the thick quilted feather of the duck fluff, listened to the world. Quiet, unsettling sounds flowing somewhere around him and over others' lives soothed him. The winds were walking along the roofs - heavy in the winter, heavily mixed with snow and ice cake, springy, breathing with moisture and celestial electricity, summer sluggish, dry, interspersed with dust and light feathery seeds. The dogs barked, greeting the sleepy hosts who had come out on the porch, and basozito roared cattle on their way to the watering place. The world breathed, cracked, whistled, mooed, clattered hooves, rang and sang to different voices. The sounds of his own life were so meager and outrageously insignificant that Bach forgot how to hear them: he isolated them in a general sound stream and passed them by. The glass of the only window in the room was rattling in the gusts of the wind, the chimney was cracked long ago, a gray mouse whistled from somewhere beneath the oven. Here, perhaps, that's all. Listening to a great life was not an interesting example. Sometimes, when he heard it, Bach even forgot that he himself was part of this world, that he could have gone on the porch to join the polyphony: to sing something foolish, or loudly slam the door, or, at worst, just sneeze. But Bach preferred to listen. At six in the morning, carefully dressed and combed, he was already standing at the school bell tower with a pocket watch in his hand. Waiting for both hands to merge into a single line (hour by six, minute by twelve), that there was strength pulling at the rope - and the bronze bell echoed boomingly. For many years of exercise, Bach achieved such skill in this business that the sound of the blow was heard exactly at the moment when the minute hand touched the dial zenith, and not a second later. A moment later everyone in the village turned to the sound and whispered a short prayer. A new day has come ... The parsing of the text of the dictation together with detailed comments

Plenty of space And a very large selection of products