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Krasnodar – Istanbul – Paris - Мария Устюгова

Krasnodar – Istanbul – Paris

Страниц

15

Год

2025

Это захватывающая история о женщине и её удивительном спутнике — коте по имени Росс. Этот пушистый компаньон, несмотря на своё животное происхождение, наделён необычайной глубиной и человеческими чертами. Путешествие begins в живописном Краснодаре, откуда они отправляются в яркий Стамбул, а затем продолжают свой путь в романтичный Париж.

По мере их перемещения из одного города в другой, герои сталкиваются с множеством приключений, каждое из которых оставляет на них незабываемый след. В Стамбуле они исследуют его древние улицы, наслаждаются ароматами уличной еды и переглядываются с местными жителями, узнавая истории о культуре и традициях. Париж же открывается перед ними своими величественными памятниками и уютными кафе, где они углубляются в философские размышления о жизни.

Отношения между героиней и Россом становятся всё более напряженными, постепенно раскрывая их внутренние переживания и желания. Кот, обладая не только острым умом, но и невероятной интуицией, помогает женщине преодолевать трудности и находить ответы на волнующие вопросы о её собственном пути. Каждое новое место создаёт уникальную атмосферу, где их дружба испытывается на прочность, а неожиданные повороты судьбы заставляют задуматься о настоящем значении заботы и единства.

Таким образом, это не только путешествие через удивительные города, но и внутренний путь к самопознанию, где каждое взаимодействие с окружающим миром становится шагом к пониманию себя.

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KRASNODAR – ISTANBUL – PARIS


I sat on the highest roof, watching the waves of other roofs flowing right before me. The king of the world, the ruler of Istanbul, a beautiful spotted cat resembling a serval. Just a regular street cat from Krasnodar.


KRASNODAR


I was born in the dark basement of a ten-story brick building. The first thing I remember is my mother, who smelled pleasantly of milk, and my squealing brothers and sisters. We all nuzzled around searching for magical milk fountains. I always found them. I was generally very bold and active.


When mother first led me, small and timidly stepping on trembling paws, into the courtyard, I discovered an amazing new world. And its creatures. Birds chirping somewhere high above, beautiful colorful butterflies, prickly hedgehogs, tiny slimy snails – brr… And humans. They were kind to me. They made funny sounds like "kitty-kitty," petted me, and scratched behind my ears. At first I was scared, but mother explained that they were divided into good and bad ones. You had to listen to your animal instincts and trust them.



I explored this world with incredible eagerness. Breaking free from the stuffy basement, I jumped and ran, rejoicing and marveling at everything. My first caught mouse. A paw injured by a hedgehog. An ear torn in battle with a big cat over food. And Her. I know She had a name, but that's just how I called Her. She came to me every evening and brought something tasty. There were many people who fed me and treated me well. But I singled Her out from all of them. It was nice to sit with Her and listen to the sounds of the courtyard. Children playing, wind blowing, or crickets chirping.


I was still just a kitten when I started thinking about a great journey. My birthplace – the dark cramped basement where I sometimes came to sleep when it was cold and rainy – never became my home. I was a free cat. A cat who walks by himself. When I got older, I began exploring other courtyards and even wandering around the city. I wasn't afraid of cars or dogs. My paws were strong, I was very fast and agile. People in the courtyard loved me for these qualities. They always petted me, fed me treats and lovingly called me Bandit. Once I gave a worthy fight to the local German shepherd. And I caught mice and birds too. Just hunted.


Mother said I took after my father. He was a pedigreed Bengal cat who had escaped from his owners. Wild free blood boiled in his veins. Mother couldn't resist. And I understand her.


I only saw father once: he came to our basement to look at his offspring. He greeted mother affectionately and caressed us, the children. But I felt with my whole being how the basement walls pressed upon him. He had to move on. A wild ancestor of the leopard, led by the call of blood. I remember him looking at me and whispering: "You look like me, son! Choose your path, listen to your heart and instincts, let them guide you…" I sniffed him, trying to absorb his scent that contained everything: masculinity, nobility and wanderlust. I admired him, the proud traveler who walked his own path. His words sank into my soul and seemed to burn there in scarlet letters. He said goodbye to mother and we never saw him again…

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