Anastasia Strokina

Страна : Россия

Окончила литературный институт. Автор нескольких книг для детей, переводов и стихов. Лауреат премии Книгуру на лучшее произведение для детей, переводческой премии им. Соломона Апта, шорт лист премии Дебют, дипломант премии им. В. Крапивна.

Country : Russia








Отрывок из сказки “A Whale Swims North”


That morning, when he awoke, Whale was out of sorts. He didn’t know why he was upset, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

— “Whale, you know what?” the mamoru said then. “I have a feeling my Island is somewhere close at hand.”

Whale said nothing.

— “And that I’m going to know it when I see it. It’s in a bad way without me. And without it I won’t be me.”

Whale said nothing.

— “Whale, and more: I’ll get a name! The Island will be my family! With all its birds and animals and people. Do you have a family, Whale?”

Whale mumbled something and dove down deep into the ocean. So deep that the mamoru was fright- ened. They might encounter huge sea monsters down there, with jaws full of sharp teeth, terrible things, like the Black Fish and her kin.

All day long they swam ahead without seeing a sin- gle island that even faintly resembled the one in the mamoru’s dreams. And all day long Whale didn’t ut- ter a single word, although he desperately wanted to talk to the mamoru. Not about anything in particular, just to talk. Whether or not the mamoru found his Island, their journey was nearing its end. Whale was swimming towards the north edge of the ocean, and the most northern expanse of ocean had begun back

at the Island of Crooked Birches. Whale preferred not to think about what would happen after that. But somewhere down in the depths of his enormous body a little knot of sorrow had formed and was slowly me- andering all about his great body, down his very core. His fins began to droop and his tail felt leaden and un- wieldy.

They swam deep below the ocean’s surface, so deep that the mamoru couldn’t even feel how there, far above him, a seastorm picked up, raged on for a time in all its fury, and then passed. All sorts of fish swam past the Whale – the larger ones with weight and dig- nity, the little ones in jittery schools. Creatures with the most bizarre shapes and colors flitted around down there. Some swam right up to Whale, some swam quickly away, vanishing in the murky brine.

Whale didn’t seem to notice any of them. And they didn’t pay any attention to


— “Whale,” the mamoru asked, when they again emerged into the sunlight, “aren’t you lonely down there in the depths?”

Whale said nothing.

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