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–So this what are you thinking about in the hour of need! – She exclaimed with a little sneer, and asked: Listen! What do you hear?
– I hear the plaintive cry of seagulls, – he answered, – they fly high above the water. The weather is going to change.
– You? – She addressed to her son.
– I still hear the roaring turbines and the flutter of a taking-off spaceship, – he said, – that’s not going to pass off soon.
–And I hear tremendous applauses and bravo screams almost every single sleepless night, so distinctly, like I do stand on a scene, despite I lie in my bed at the moment. Well, of course, I hear those seagulls, or the turbines, depending on whom of you I am thinking about. But towards morning the sounds are gone, and only the measured beat of the waves remains. Despite the insomnia, I would like to hear it forever. And, above all else, I do believe that it will be so.
– What’re you talking about? – The old man asked quizzically.
– Ah, just about that eternal and immortal things, – she answered with a quite laugh,– keep in mind, that we have a different topic for discussion today, that, I must confess, I’ve diligently evaded for all my life.
And they have been talking about the Cosmos through the whole evening.
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