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A Thunderous Silence
January 15, 2016
Начата работа по переводу книги "Громкая тишина" на английский язык. Мне предложили издать ее на Западе. Работы предстоит еще много, в том числе и общение с издателями, но мне кажется, что все получится! Dear friends, I would like to announce that work began on the translation of the book "A Thunderous Silence" in English. I got an offer to publish it in the West. Work is still a lot, including communication with the publishers, but it seems to me that all will turn out!
"A Thunderous Silence By Ludmila Shilina
Based on a true story: the names of the characters have been changed. Any similarities are purely coincidental.
Prologue I often try on other people's lives for myself. I like to look out of the window, and look through other people’s windows. When I travel by bus in the evening through the streets of the city I see the lights glowing in every window. I wonder to myself what kind of people live there? I invent stories about them. Just now, a shadow flashes before my eyes in a window, and I already know that she is a single woman, and she came draw the curtains. I just know that she will take off her slippers and make herself comfortable in an armchair. She will drink hot tea and read her favorite book. Or perhaps she will watch an old movie from the Soviet era. Maybe even one from Hollywood made before the war. Her apartment is cozy and quiet, as if angels flew above it. So what if she is a single woman, who cares? Personally, I envy her... Lord, help me. What am I talking about? If only a really lonely woman, who is used to crying on her pillow, was listening to me now! No, I'm not being sarcastic. I'm hiding behind these stories. In truth I am not really inventing their lives but my own. Just for a short time, a few seconds, the flash of someone's silhouette in a window lets me live an invented life which does not resemble own. I like drifting in the darkness, like an ice floe broken away from the mainland. But that's someone else’s life that I have already left behind... I like houses. Not multi-storey apartment blocks that look like anthills, but like dilapidated cabins in the woods. Can you imagine how quiet it would be there? Only the sound of a cat purring loudly, and the wood crackling in the stove. No problems at all! Please let me go there, even for just a couple of days! Who should I beg to? I know that I will not allow myself to leave ... it’s just a dream, and that’s all there is to it. Here now is the window of our apartment. It is lit up. They are waiting for me there: my husband, daughter, and my son..."