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Every meeting has it's parting, for a short time or forever. We wave hands, kiss each other and... part.
Nobody can help it, but we try to overcome our troubles because of the believe
that someday we will meet again.
I have almost forgotten about this feeling, but when we had to leave our dugout and return home,
I had suddenly remembered about our black dog Baikal. I had to tell him goodbye,
but I couldn't find him anywhere and then thought that that was better for both of us,
because our parting could be very hard. So I got into the boat and swam away.
It was early morning and the Russian bay was foggy.
I could hardly see my way but when I looked back, there was Baikal sitting on the land and watching me.
Then he started run up and down the hill, smell the ground and try to find my footsteps lost in the water.
I wanted to shout and to call his name for the last time, but I didn't, because you shouldn't look back
when you travel ahead. It's useless. So I swam away. Then night came.
Baikal came to our dugout to wait for our return. He waited and waited, but nobody came.
First he felt cold, but then he fell asleep.
In his dream he thought: "They are not coming. They are gone forever."
From the album "Sergey Emets. The paintings." | 
/ Paintings
/ They are gone
