By ΠΠ°ΡΠ΅Π²ΡΠΊΠ°Ρ ΠΠΈΠ½Π° Π‘Π΅ΡΠ³Π΅Π΅Π²Π½Π°
Π£ Π’ΠΈΠΌΠΎΡΠ΅Ρ ΠΌΠ»Π°Π΄ΡΠΈΠΉ Π±ΡΠ°Ρ, Π° Ρ ΠΡΠΊΠΈ ΡΡΠ°ΡΡΠΈΠΉ. Π’ΠΈΠΌΠΎΡΠ΅ΠΉ, Π·Π°ΡΠ΅ΡΡΠ½Π½ΡΠΉ Π² Π²ΠΈΡ ΡΠ΅ ΠΏΠΎΠ²ΡΠ΅Π΄Π½Π΅Π²Π½ΠΎΡΡΠΈ, ΠΈΡΠ΅Ρ ΡΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅Π½ΠΈΠ΅ Π² Π·Π°ΠΏΠΈΡΡΡ Π² ΡΠ²ΠΎΠ΅ΠΌ Π±Π»ΠΎΠΊΠ½ΠΎΡΠ΅, ΠΊΠ°ΠΆΠ΄ΡΠΉ ΡΡΡΠΈΡ β ΠΏΠΎΠΏΡΡΠΊΠ° ΠΏΠΎΠ½ΡΡΡ ΡΠ΅Π±Ρ ΠΈ ΠΎΠΊΡΡΠΆΠ°ΡΡΠΈΠΉ ΠΌΠΈΡ. ΠΡΠΊΠ°, ΠΌΠ»Π°Π΄ΡΠ°Ρ ΡΠ΅ΡΡΡΠ°, Π½Π°Ρ ΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΡ ΡΠ±Π΅ΠΆΠΈΡΠ΅ Π² ΠΌΠΈΡΠ΅ ΠΊΡΠ°ΡΠΎΠΊ ΠΈ Π»ΠΈΠ½ΠΈΠΉ ΡΠ²ΠΎΠ΅Π³ΠΎ ΡΠΊΠ΅ΡΡΠ±ΡΠΊΠ°, Π² Π·Π°ΡΠ΅ΠΉΠ»ΠΈΠ²ΡΡ ΡΠΈΡΡΠ½ΠΊΠ°Ρ , ΡΠΊΡΡΠ²Π°ΡΡΠΈΡ ΠΏΠΎΠ΄ΡΠ°Ρ Π±ΡΡΡ ΡΠΌΠΎΡΠΈΠΉ. ΠΠ½ΠΈ Π½Π΅Π·Π½Π°ΠΊΠΎΠΌΡ, ΠΈΡ ΠΈΡΡΠΎΡΠΈΠΈ β ΡΠ°Π·Π½ΡΠ΅, ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»Π΅ΡΠ°ΡΡΠΈΠ΅ΡΡ Π½ΠΈΡΠΈ Π΄Π΅ΡΡΡΠ²Π°, ΡΠ°ΡΠΊΡΡΠ²Π°ΡΡΠΈΠ΅ ΠΎΡΡΡΠ΅Π½ΠΈΠ΅ Π³Π»ΡΠ±ΠΎΠΊΠΎΠ³ΠΎ ΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΠ½ΠΎΡΠ΅ΡΡΠ²Π° Π² ΡΠ΅ΠΌΡΡΡ , Π³Π΄Π΅, ΠΊΠ°Π·Π°Π»ΠΎΡΡ Π±Ρ, Π΅ΡΡΡ Π»ΡΠ±ΠΎΠ²Ρ ΠΈ Π±Π»ΠΈΠ·ΠΎΡΡΡ.
ΠΡΠ° Π΄Π²ΡΡΡΠΎΡΠΎΠ½Π½ΡΡ ΠΊΠ½ΠΈΠ³Π° β Π΄Π²Π΅ ΠΈΡΡΠΎΡΠΈΠΈ, Π΄Π²Π΅ ΠΏΠ΅ΡΡΠΏΠ΅ΠΊΡΠΈΠ²Ρ. Π‘ ΠΎΠ΄Π½ΠΎΠΉ ΡΡΠΎΡΠΎΠ½Ρ β ΠΈΡΡΠΎΡΠΈΡ Π’ΠΈΠΌΠΎΡΠ΅Ρ, ΡΡΠ°ΡΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎ Π±ΡΠ°ΡΠ°, Π΄Π»Ρ ΠΊΠΎΡΠΎΡΠΎΠ³ΠΎ Π²ΡΠ΅ΠΌΡ ΡΠ΅ΡΠ΅Ρ ΡΠ»ΠΈΡΠΊΠΎΠΌ Π±ΡΡΡΡΠΎ, Π·Π°ΠΏΠΎΠ»Π½Π΅Π½Π½ΠΎΠ΅ ΡΠΊΠΎΠ»ΠΎΠΉ, ΡΠ΅ΠΌΡΠ΅ΠΉ, ΠΆΠΈΠ·Π½ΡΡ, Π½ΠΎ Π»ΠΈΡΠ΅Π½Π½ΠΎΠ΅ ΠΈΡΡΠΈΠ½Π½ΠΎΠ³ΠΎ ΠΏΠΎΠ½ΠΈΠΌΠ°Π½ΠΈΡ. Π§ΡΠΎ Π΄Π΅Π»Π°ΡΡ, ΠΊΠΎΠ³Π΄Π° ΡΡ ΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΠ½ Π½Π° ΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΠ½ ΡΠΎ ΡΠ²ΠΎΠΈΠΌΠΈ ΠΌΡΡΠ»ΡΠΌΠΈ, ΠΊΠΎΠ³Π΄Π° ΡΠ΅Π»Π΅ΡΠΎΠ½ ΠΌΠΎΠ»ΡΠΈΡ, ΠΈ ΠΌΠΈΡ Π²ΠΎΠΊΡΡΠ³ ΠΊΠ°ΠΆΠ΅ΡΡΡ ΠΏΡΡΡΡΠΌ? ΠΠΎΠΆΠ΅Ρ, Π½Π°ΡΠ°ΡΡ ΠΏΠΈΡΠ°ΡΡ? ΠΠΎ ΠΎ ΡΠ΅ΠΌ?
Π‘ Π΄ΡΡΠ³ΠΎΠΉ ΡΡΠΎΡΠΎΠ½Ρ β ΠΈΡΡΠΎΡΠΈΡ ΠΡΠΊΠΈ, ΠΌΠ»Π°Π΄ΡΠ΅ΠΉ ΡΠ΅ΡΡΡΡ, ΡΡΡ Π΄Π΅ΡΡΡΠ²ΠΎ ΠΊΠ°ΠΆΠ΅ΡΡΡ ΠΈΠ΄ΠΈΠ»Π»ΠΈΠ΅ΠΉ, ΠΎΠΊΡΡΠΆΠ΅Π½Π½ΠΎΠ΅ Π·Π°Π±ΠΎΡΠΎΠΉ ΡΡΠ°ΡΡΠ΅Π³ΠΎ Π±ΡΠ°ΡΠ°. ΠΠΎ ΠΈ Π·Π° ΡΡΠΎΠΉ ΠΊΠ°ΠΆΡΡΠ΅ΠΉΡΡ Π»ΡΠ³ΠΊΠΎΡΡΡΡ ΡΠΊΡΡΠ²Π°Π΅ΡΡΡ ΡΠΎΠ±ΡΡΠ²Π΅Π½Π½ΠΎΠ΅ ΠΎΠ΄ΠΈΠ½ΠΎΡΠ΅ΡΡΠ²ΠΎ, ΡΠ²ΠΎΡ Π½Π΅ΡΠ°Π·Π³Π°Π΄Π°Π½Π½Π°Ρ ΡΠ°ΠΉΠ½Π°. ΠΡΠΆΠ½Π° Π»ΠΈ ΠΎΠ½Π° ΠΊΠΎΠΌΡ-ΡΠΎ ΠΏΠΎ-Π½Π°ΡΡΠΎΡΡΠ΅ΠΌΡ? Π£ΠΌΠ΅Π΅Ρ Π»ΠΈ ΠΎΠ½Π° ΡΠΈΡΠΎΠ²Π°ΡΡ Π½Π° ΡΠ°ΠΌΠΎΠΌ Π΄Π΅Π»Π΅? Π§ΡΠΎ ΡΠΊΡΡΠ²Π°ΡΡ Π΅Ρ ΡΠΈΡΡΠ½ΠΊΠΈ?
ΠΠΈΠ½Π° ΠΠ°ΡΠ΅Π²ΡΠΊΠ°Ρ β Π»Π°ΡΡΠ΅Π°Ρ ΠΊΠΎΠ½ΠΊΡΡΡΠΎΠ² Β«ΠΠ½ΠΈΠ³ΡΡΡΒ», Β«ΠΠΎΠ²Π°Ρ Π΄Π΅ΡΡΠΊΠ°Ρ ΠΊΠ½ΠΈΠ³Π°Β» ΠΈ ΠΏΡΠ΅ΠΌΠΈΠΈ ΠΈΠΌ. ΠΡΠ°ΠΏΠΈΠ²ΠΈΠ½Π°, ΠΌΡΠ·ΡΠΊΠ°Π½Ρ ΠΈ ΠΏΡΠ΅ΠΏΠΎΠ΄Π°Π²Π°ΡΠ΅Π»Ρ β ΡΠ½ΠΎΠ²Π° Π΄Π°ΡΠΈΡ Π½Π°ΠΌ ΠΏΡΠΎΠ½Π·ΠΈΡΠ΅Π»ΡΠ½ΡΡ ΠΈΡΡΠΎΡΠΈΡ, ΠΏΠΎΠ»Π½ΡΡ ΡΠΎΠ½ΠΊΠΎΡΡΠΈ ΡΡΠ²ΡΡΠ², Π½Π΅ΠΆΠ½ΠΎΠΉ ΠΈΡΠΎΠ½ΠΈΠΈ ΠΈ Π³Π»ΡΠ±ΠΎΠΊΠΎΠ³ΠΎ ΠΏΠΎΠ½ΠΈΠΌΠ°Π½ΠΈΡ ΠΏΠΎΠ΄ΡΠΎΡΡΠΊΠΎΠ²ΠΎΠΉ ΠΏΡΠΈΡ ΠΎΠ»ΠΎΠ³ΠΈΠΈ. ΠΠ²ΡΠΎΡ Π±Π΅ΡΡΡΠ΅Π»Π»Π΅ΡΠΎΠ² Β«Π― Π½Π΅ ΡΠΎΡΠΌΠΎΠ·Β», Β«ΠΠ΅Π½Ρ ΡΠΈΡΠ»Π° ΠΠΈΒ» ΠΈ Β«Π’Π΅ΠΎ, ΡΠ΅Π°ΡΡΠ°Π»ΡΠ½ΡΠΉ ΠΊΠ°ΠΏΠΈΡΠ°Π½Β».
Timofey has a younger brother, while Irka has an older one. Lost in the whirlwind of daily life, Timofey seeks refuge in the intimate act of writing in his notebook, each stroke a tentative attempt to understand himself and the world around him. Irka, the younger sister, finds solace in the vibrant world of color and line, her sketchbook a canvas for emotions that often run deeper than words can express. Unacquainted, their stories are different, yet both weave a common thread: a profound sense of loneliness within families where love and closeness seemingly abound.
This dual-narrative book offers two perspectives, two journeys. On one side is Timofeyβs story, the older brother overwhelmed by the relentless flow of school, family, and life, yet yearning for genuine connection. What does one do when faced with the stark reality of solitude, when the phone is silent, and the world feels empty? Perhaps, he starts to write. But about what?
On the other side is Irkaβs story, the younger sister, whose childhood appears idyllic, enveloped in the care of her older brother. Yet, beneath this veneer of happiness lies a quiet loneliness, a mystery she struggles to unravel. Does anyone truly need her? Is she truly skilled at drawing? What secrets do her drawings conceal?
Nina Dashevskaya β award-winning author of βKniguru,β βNew Children's Book,β and the Krapivin Prize recipient, musician, and educator β once again delivers a poignant tale, brimming with subtle emotions, gentle irony, and a deep understanding of the adolescent psyche. Author of the bestsellers 'I'm Not Slow,' 'Pi Day,' and 'Theo, the Theatrical Captain'.