People moved in a thick throng, some carrying inflatable mattresses and large sun umbrellas, others burdened only with a beach bag. Swinging her bag, she walkedno, randown the street. It happened so oftenbeautiful things had stupid names, and the other way around. The street sign bore the real name, but it was plain and insignificant. Sasha decided it was going to be called just thatthe Street That Leads to the Sea.

She had no proper names for the blossoming trees that grew in the yard, but decided to call them 'peacock trees.' Behind the unevenly trimmed bushes began the street that led to the shore. Not hesitatinglest her mother change her mindSasha threw a sundress over the swimsuit, slid her feet into a pair of sandals, grabbed a beach bag and one of the towels provided by the landlady, and ran outside, into the sunshine. 'Get some eggs and yogurt on the way back. 'We're not going to live on doughnuts here. 'Want me to run down and get some doughnuts?' Sasha aimed to be a dutiful daughter. Mom lay down on a couch, a pack of fresh linen under her head substituting for a pillow. She was exhausted by the long trip in the stuffy economy class seats, the apartment search, negotiations with potential landlords none of it was easy. Swimming toward the horizon, feeling the sea glide over her stomach and back, then diving deep down, staring at the rocks on the bottom, seaweed and tiny speckled fish. Transparent water changing the color of her skin to yellow-white. Waves, salt on her lips, deep khaki-colored waterall that was forgotten during the long winter. She felt joyful and giddy: just a few more minutes, and hello sea, here we come. Sasha dug her faded, last year's swimsuit from the bottom of the suitcase and changed quickly in the bathroom, where someone else's underwear was drying on the space heater. The landlady departed, leaving behind two keys: one for the main entrance and one for the door to their room. The sea is right there, you can almost see it out of your window. 'Those two are on the beach the whole day,' reasoned the landlady. The other room in the one-bedroom apartment was occupied by a young couple, with whom they would have to share the kitchen, bathroom, and toilet. The pricesoh, the prices were simply ludicrous! In the end, Mom rented a tiny room in a five-story building twenty minutes from the shore, with windows facing west.

Vita nostra marina and sergey dyachenko