Memoirs of the Unborn. City

Memoirs of the Unborn. City

Fifth story

 

"I know there will be a city. 

I know a garden will bloom...,"

said the famous poet, and this thought was picked up by city-building enthusiasts who had long been tired of sitting idle. This idea appealed to the residents of the settlement, which long ago was supposed to become a city, but for some, the hands never reached that point.

 

Most delighted with this news was the future mayor of the future city - the current head of the village council.

 

Well, if the lower class wants it and the upper class can make it happen, it's just a matter of time.

 

So, it all began.

 

So, the city began.

 

Everyone was curious about where the new shopping center, central park, stadium, planetarium, and cinema would be located, and what it would all look like.

 

To encourage future city dwellers, the future mayor of the future city announced a competition in which every resident of the settlement could propose their project - their vision of the main attractions, as well as the overall city project.

 

The competition commission of the village council received thirty different projects. Eight of them were immediately rejected because they lacked programs or drawings. Not finding the highlight in another 12 projects, the commission "swept" them aside as well. From the remaining 10, the commission chose the three most original projects that met all the conditions of the competition and declared the winners. The future city council approved one of the three projects, and work began.

 

The settlement began to transform into a city.

 

Excavators, concrete mixers, tractors, and bulldozers worked tirelessly.

 

Gardens began to appear in the city.

 

And there was a city.

 

Everything in it was new, beautiful, original. Everything in it appealed to both the citizens themselves and to guests, tourists.

 

New museums, art galleries, shopping centers, parks, and squares - everything breathed novelty. It was in everything.

 

Local poets dedicated their verses to their native city, artists painted pictures, and sculptors created monuments and memorials. And the status of the people in the arts grew: the village union of creative individuals became urban.

 

This and many other festive events were solidified by mass feasts and celebrations, immortalized in the local press, voiced on local radio, and the new city television channel.

 

The new city came to life with a new full life.

 

Factories and plants started working, kindergartens, schools, and universities opened.

 

Flowers bloomed, and swans appeared in the artificial pond of the new city park.

 

In the city squares, citizens fed pigeons, cats, and dogs. Janitors chased away boys who were eager to pick the not-yet-ripe apples and pears from the surrounding areas.

 

And everything would have been good, and everything would have been great, but...

 

This city never existed.

And the garden never blossomed. Its residents, the city head, pigeons, cats, dogs, janitors, and boys didn't exist either.

 

The city never came to be, remaining an unborn project on non-existent paper.

 

It remained only as the memoirs of an unborn family, unborn twins, and other unborn residents.

 

The unborn city with its unborn residents never came to be in the unborn country, which was never born on the unborn planet. The latter, in turn, was not born in the unborn galaxy according to the unborn plan of the unborn God.

October 15, 2014, original (Russian) version