http://slow.writerscafe.org/olivia_steele The original writings of author Olivia Steele en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776055886 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 My mother’s life journey had never been just as tortuous as mine, even though she would complain about the hard time she had had with her siblings when she was a child and how hard she had found it working while studying and fighting for a place under the sun in the big city. Telling me such t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2900617/ That fall my father left the family.His leaving was quite a shock for everyone - my mother, our friends and relatives... No wonder why - everybody around had used to think our family perfect, and make an example of my parents as a truly stable couple. Even Sue, as she had seen how chummy and close t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2898775/ That summer dads didn’t take me to the country for some reason. Or, maybe, they did, but I can’t for the life of me remember that. But I can remember quite distinctly my father living at the villa with us, and mother coming only on weekends. Evidently, father was on holiday while mum was.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2886348/ A year had gone by.The wound struck into my heart by Shurik had gotten healed bit by bit. Another took his place… The ‘another one’ appears in another story, “Not meant to be” its name is. So I’m not going to retell it here. I will only mention that things didn&r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2883033/ That night I couldn’t get a wink of sleep.I might have blamed it on being in a strange place - but that circumstance had never really affected my sleep quality. If there was one thing you could say about me it’s that young me could sleep through absolutely anything. No matter where I sle.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2878487/ Several months had passed.About the appearance of my late grandfather in the night I tried not to think or tell anyone. Even Sue despite her being my closest friend ever. Although, maybe I did tell her in passing; but we cared little of such things back those days, for we had different things to do,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2875876/ That night I came home late, when the wake had already been over, and there were just a few leftovers on the table. Gran Zoya made a bed for me in the lounge room. Even though my late grandfather had used to sleep on that lounge I didn’t mind it. Having had a couple of salmon sandwiches and a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2873285/ Leshka was a longtime admirer of Sue’s. Their mothers were best friends, so the grown-ups, as was the custom, had decided their kids’ destiny long ago. Leshka didn’t mind it for he had a crush on her, but Sue wasn’t that into him - she would call him “dain bramaged&rdqu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2870502/ Grandmother let me in as she stood at the doorway wearing a coat and a bag in her hand. Evidently, she was going to the market for some groceries to the wake table. I declined her invitation to go with her for all I needed was to stay home alone at that moment.As soon as the door closed on her I rus.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2868176/ Yes, there has never been in my life a celebration better and merrier than that funeral.Whereas I’ve never really liked ‘happy’ events such as Christmas, birthdays, Thanksgiving etc. Because usually these ‘special’ days imply big expectations and wishes which never come.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2867084/ Meanwhile in the house the tables for the bereavement food were already drawn out and covered with white cloth; in the kitchen the women were making pancakes in sizzling cast-iron pans, cooking traditional bereavement sweet porridge with honey and raisins, and, chatting lively, they were carrying to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2865942/ The coffin was finally buried into the ground, the flowers put on the grave, and the funeral procession moved to the cars to go to the wake at Kruglovo.The guys walking beside me persuaded me to share a ride with them in the funeral bus. And I said yes immediately, without thinking twice.The bus tha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2865298/ I remember that day in perfect detail.In my diary, the large checkered notebook of A4 format, I mentioned it as my happiest day ever.Although, for the sake of justice, I must confess that in thirty years of my life there have been other days, just as happy - but back then, at that time, it was my HA.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2865149/ It was September now and I was back in the city when one evening our phone rang and sobbing Gran Zoya without saying hello or calling my name said briefly:“Put your dad on”My father picked up the phone in the big bedroom and, as usual, he shouted to me in the kitchen:“Hang up!&rdqu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2864998/ We sat on the roof of a shed near the mentioned above phone booth the villagers used to call the city from. Neither Sue nor I knew where else to go; so we, hiding on that roof, entertained ourselves picking yellow plums and eating them, and throwing the seeds down on the road trying to fling them as.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2864571/ My route went in one direction, to Sue’s place. As I came by her tacky wooden house surrounded with an overgrown garden the first thing I heard was a distinctive ruckus coming from the indoors: that was Sue fighting with her old folks.“Where’s the phone?”“Sasha! Put on .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2864084/ One day, in the end of August Gran Zoya and I had a very big argument.It was one of those rare sunny days of late summer; after the incessant cold rains the pale sun, no longer warm enough, showed up from behind the clouds, laying its farewell rays on the wet grass, chrisanthemums, asters, gladiolas.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2863544/ My nightmare about the villa began to come true as early as August of that year. When the excruciating July in the country was over and I was dumped like a log at the villa again I figured out that the sick aura exactly like that I had dreamed about was already forming. To get the whole picture the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2862869/ The next day my dads came and, as always, forced me kicking and screaming into the car and drove to the country. They kept me there for a month - and I spent all the month of July feeling terribly depressed. All those days I stayed inside the dark, dirty hut; got ringworm from the cats - that’.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2862814/ Like yesterday, there were a lot of people on the beach. Again there was loud misic booming from the sunbathers’ portable speakers and cars. Again there were cheerful screams of bathing kids, splashing and jumping in the water. But unlike yesterday I no longer felt as happy and excited. I didn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2862689/ The attic was, as usual, cluttered with dusty crates, boards and stuff. There was a big pile of wood shavings under the lathe. Sue and I had usually liked to have fun rolling in those wood shavings, but now we were not in the mood for it.As soon as we entered the attic I sat into a big vegetable cra.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2862363/ That day Sue and I were at the lake as usual. It was a weekend; the beach was packed and the lake itself crawling with swimmers. But at that age, unlike this, I found no sight more delighful than a big crowd of merry people. This created an exciting, festive atmosphere inside of me; just like this I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2862264/ That was a nice, splendid June. Sue and I spent every day together for four weeks. We kept walking around hand in hand like two little fools and people would say that we were “as thick as thieves”.As the saying goes, a man is known by the company he keeps. It was truly said about Sue and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2862018/ There was another friend of mine in the village. I mean, she was not just a friend of mine, she was my bestie - my closest friend ever. Her name was Susannah, in Russian it sounded as “Sashka”. Having her in my life made me what I am now. Anyway, she played a very important role in the f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2861892/ The villa of my grandmother Zoya was probably one of the few places I felt rather good at. I had many friends all over the neighborhood so I was hanging out with them from morning till night. We would have a lot of fun together, riding bicycles, swimming in the lake until we got blue in the fac.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2861767/ When my school year was over dads usually took me to one of two places for summer vacation: my paternal grandmother’s villa in the suburbs or the hometown of my mother in the country. I had never in my life been taken to beach resorts: only after finishing school I first saw the sea. With palm.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2861552/ My days at school weren’t very good to me either. For it could be said that I had no friends there. Well, actually I did have one, Volkova - but she was in a different class known as “special” for smarter kids. Our public school divided its students by classes from A to D. Class A .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2861331/ There they appeared, the two old idiots - one fat, bald and four-eyed, the other one still looking okay for her age, though, but wearing a poker face, dry and very unpleasant. Seeing her guitar in someone else’s hands, my mother gave me the stink eye.“What’s your problem? Why are y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2860694/ Regardless of the fact that I had an intact family, mom and dad, I was neither happy nor fulfilled. I didn’t really love my dads for I thought them narrow-minded and unintelligent. My conclusion was based on comparing them to my friends’ parents - I had often visited their places and han.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2860553/ The crisis of adolescence had really knocked me down. Even though there was no serious tragedy in my life, such as my parents’ death or a car crash with a bad injury and subsequent disability which some people of little brain like to show off in real life, and some other make books a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2860083/ One of the most essential prerequisites for personal happiness is being loved. So, an average person's life is envisaged to be filled with love during each period. As a child you get love from your parents, then friends and sexual partners, then your own kids and grandkids. You are lucky if your cha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2859974/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/olivia_steele/2859922/