give it, give it. How old are you now to still walk around with your hand outstretched and ask me for money? I could go and earn money myself.
Peter did not answer anything, but only harbored a grudge somewhere deep down. They were driven by dreams. He could not come to terms with the fact that he would have to work at a factory, live like everyone else, and be content with little. He wanted more, he wanted to reach out to Hollywood stars, he wanted to be part of the star society, part of those people who have yachts, cars, luxury houses, and who receive millions in fees for their works.
– Here you go, buy two bottles. – said the mother, putting a hundred rubles on the table.
Peter went into the room and put on his pants and jacket. Leaving the room, he took a hundred rubles, put on his sneakers, left the apartment, closed the door, and went outside. Sun was shining. It was the end of September. There were several cars parked in the yard. Children played on the playground, and their mothers sat on benches reading magazines and books. Some sat bent over their phones.
Having reached the store, Peter went inside. He took the basket and immediately headed to the dairy department. There he ran into a girl from his building. She recognized him, it was obvious, they had seen each other more than once, but had never spoken. She drove an expensive car, apparently worked for some large company, and had recently acquired a young man who visited her from time to time. Peter liked her. He would like to approach her, but he was very embarrassed about his situation. Now, if he sold at least one book, as he thought, and made money from it, he could call himself a writer, and then he could approach her. But he was unemployed, and her car cost a million and a half, no less, and she looked quite serious. She didn’t look like the kind of girl you could just walk up to, like some schoolgirl at a school disco.
Peter made an important appearance and walked into the dairy department. There he found milk on sale, for which he had just enough money, and took two bottles. He went to the checkout with the milk. His next door neighbor was standing there. He pretended that he didn’t know her. He just stood behind him and put the milk on the moving belt. The neighbor looked at him, she clearly wanted to say hello, but did not do so.
The cashier knocked the milk.
– Ninety-nine rubles.
Peter took out a «one hundred ruble» bill from his pants pocket and handed it to the cashier. She took it, put it in the cash register, and took out a «one ruble» coin from there, giving it to Peter.
Having taken the coin, Peter took both bottles of milk and went home. He carried the bottles in his hands, since he did not have enough money for a package.
Returning home, he put the milk in the refrigerator and immediately turned on the electric kettle to pour himself some coffee. While the kettle was heating up, he went into the room, took off his street clothes, and returned to the kitchen with his mug.
The water in the kettle was just boiling.
Having poured sugar and coffee into a mug, Peter poured hot boiling water over everything, stirred thoroughly, and added milk.
Leaving the teaspoon in the kitchen, he returned to the room and sat down at the computer, in which the office program in which he was writing a book was open. Only one paragraph was written.
Having tried to continue writing the book, Peter realized that he would not succeed. Then he closed the office program and went on a social network to read something interesting about writers. He was a member of several groups, one of which published his short, fantastic story based on a computer game.
While drinking coffee, he began to look through the pages of the groups, which had quite a few posts. But none of them gave food for thought, none of them gave ideas. Then Peter turned on the music and tried to relax to find some inspiration.
CHAPTER 2. First chapters
Morning. My sister was getting ready for school, rustling her clothes and backpack in the hallway. Peter opened his eyes and froze, looking at one point on the pillow. There was no desire to get up, and there was nowhere to go. At some point, he felt like a worthless creature who didn’t even have a job. He closed his eyes and after a few moments fell asleep again.
Waking up later, he stretched and reluctantly crawled out from under the blanket. There was silence in the apartment. Lowering his feet to the floor, he put on his slippers and went to the computer. Taking a smartphone with a crack on the screen, he turned it on and looked at the time. It was half past twelve in the afternoon. Putting the smartphone back on the table, Peter took the mug and went to the kitchen to pour himself some coffee. Motya immediately ran up to him. Peter did not immediately understand what the dog wanted from him, but when he reached the kitchen, he realized that she was thirsty. Leaving the mug on the table, he took the teapot and went to her bowl. Having poured water into it, Peter returned to the kitchen, added tap water to the kettle and, placing it on the stand, turned it on.
The sun was shining outside the window.
Peter opened the refrigerator and looked at the food that was inside, trying to figure out what to cook for breakfast. His mother did not like the fact that Peter did not work and constantly ate at her expense. Therefore, she put some products in the bottom drawer so that Peter would not take them.
Taking two eggs and one sausage from the refrigerator, Peter went to the stove, lit the gas, put a frying pan on it, after which he crumbled the sausage into it and drove two eggs into it. Closing the pan with a lid, he went to get a mug to pour some coffee.
My head was empty. No ideas, no interesting thoughts, nothing at all, just an empty desire to drink coffee and eat scrambled eggs.
Taking a mug from the table, Peter poured sugar and coffee into it, after which he poured hot water from the kettle, which had just boiled, over everything and stirred thoroughly. Leaving the mug on the table, he took milk out of the refrigerator, added a little to the coffee, put the bottle back in the refrigerator, and once again stirred the coffee, which was now with milk.
He sat down on a chair and took a few small sips from his mug. Fried eggs were sizzling in the frying pan. Taking the plastic remote control, Peter turned on the TV. One of the channels was showing his favorite series about witches. He thought that he could also write something about witches, but this had already happened, and it turned out that he did not invent anything of his own, but only borrowed other people’s ideas.
– Where do all these writers get their ideas? Am I really so mediocre that I can’t come up with anything interesting? – thought Peter.
Leaving the coffee mug on the table, he went into the room to turn on the computer. Having pressed the button on the system unit, he returned back to the kitchen and turned off the gas under the frying pan. The scrambled eggs were ready. He put it on a small plate, after which he took ketchup out of the refrigerator and squeezed some into the scrambled eggs. Putting the bottle of ketchup back in the refrigerator, Peter took a plate of scrambled eggs, a mug of coffee, and went into the room.
The computer booted.
Peter sat down in the computer chair, put breakfast on the table, and connected the Internet. Going to his social network page, he looked at the messages. There were no new ones. Breaking off a piece of scrambled eggs, he stuck it on a fork and put it in his mouth, beginning to chew thoroughly.
– I should probably wash my face. – Peter thought when his drooping eyes began to prevent him from reading posts in social network groups.
Leaving the scrambled eggs and coffee on the table, he went to the bathroom, where he thoroughly washed his face and brushed his teeth. Returning to the computer, he continued his breakfast.
There wasn’t much to read. There was nothing new in the news, and the jokes that were published in the groups were repeated again and again, and each time they became less and less funny.
Peter quickly ate the scrambled eggs, washed it down with coffee, and took the plate to the kitchen, putting it in the