This mystical story was told to me by an acquaintance who used to work in the forensic department. I will narrate in the first person.
It was an ordinary August day. I received a message about a man who died when a roof beam fell on him. I arrived at the place where the accident occurred. It was huge two-storey house. It didn't look exactly new, but it didn't look too old either. The victim was a man in his thirties. He had a workshop in the attic where he made all sorts of crafts. The beams were slightly rotten. Oil painting: a man was working in a “workshop” and then a rotten beam collapsed on him. There seemed to be nothing suspicious about his death, if not for one detail... The beam had been sawn. I realized that something was dirty here, and someone “helped” him die. It’s strange, but at the crime scene we found no fingerprints other than the victim herself, no sawdust, in general, no evidence. “Purely done,” I thought, “Surely someone had a motive.” The victim had a wife of about twenty-seven. I asked her about her late husband, she told me that he inherited this estate from his father, now deceased, and he transferred it to her. I also found out important detail, that only in the event of the death of the owner, the estate passes to another owner. There is already a suspect... The hostess invited us to drink tea, we agreed. While drinking tea, I fell asleep. What I saw in my mind was very strange. I dreamed of the same dead man who was in the attic. There he pulled his hand behind one of the beams and took out some kind of book. I woke up from a crash in the attic and, along with my partners and his wife, ran there. There was no one there, only the same book that I saw in the dream was lying around. I opened it and started reading. This was his diary. There I found very interesting parts of the text (literal text).
“The day before yesterday I met my best friend from school. He disappeared when we were 16 years old. When we met, he was talking some kind of nonsense that I had disgraced him to the whole school, stole his beloved girl and that he would take revenge on me. I didn’t understand what he was talking about... What a shame? What a Girl?..
There are no longer any feelings between my wife and I. I don’t love her, it looks like she doesn’t love me either... I found out that I have a sister, I think I’ll transfer my house to her... I saw my “friend” under my windows... Was he really going to take revenge on me for something?.. ”
Another suspect has emerged, I think it's definitely one of the two. We found the victim's “friend.” I asked him about the dead man, he said that he didn’t want anything bad for him, he just wanted to intimidate him, so to speak, to joke. I don’t know if I can believe his words... I came home and immediately passed out. I had a dream again, but this time it was stranger: the victim’s wife was talking to some man, giving him money. Then he saws the beam when the husband is not at home. The victim is sitting in the attic, drawing some kind of plan, and a beam collapses on him... I woke up sweating, it was morning, I called my partners and said that I know who the killer is. We went to the house of the deceased’s wife, I said that I knew everything and offered to help if she told me who the man was. His wife gave him his address, but we didn’t find him alive. He hanged himself, leaving behind a note that said:
“I can’t live like this anymore... He comes to me every night... I don’t want to...”
The whole story is true, there is something mystical in it. It’s not for nothing that all these dreams... It’s not for nothing...
8 Write a story about an accident that happened to you, or something you heard, and draw pictures to go with it.
I was swimming in the sea last summer at my grandmother’s seaside village. The water was cool and clear and I could see colorful fish swimming around me.
What I didn’t see were the sea urchins. As I was swimming towards the beach, I saw a beach ball coming towards me. I put my feet down to steady myself. I dodged the ball, but I felt a sharp pain in my left foot.
I sat on the beach and examined my foot. A spine was in it. I called out to my sister who was tanning a few meters away. She immediately emptied a small pink cosmetics bag. She took out a pair of tweeters and pinched my foot where the spine was. I screamed because I was not expecting any pain, but I immediately felt better.
I looked up at my sister. She was grinning, “Doctor Tina to the rescue.” Anytime.” And she put her things back in her small pink bag.
I swam in the sea last summer in the coastal village where my grandmother lives. The water was cool and clear and I could see colorful fish swimming around.
What I didn't see was sea urchins. While I was swimming towards the beach, I saw a beach ball flying towards me. I lowered my leg to keep my balance. I dodged the ball, but I felt a sharp pain in my left leg.
I sat on the beach and examined my leg. There was a needle in it. I called my sister, who was sunbathing a couple of meters away from me. She immediately emptied her small pink cosmetic bag. She pulled out the tweezers and pinched me where the needle was. I screamed because I didn't expect it to hurt, but I immediately felt better.
I looked at my sister. She grinned, “Dr. Tina will save you.” Anytime". And she put her things back in her little pink purse.
8 Write a story about an accident you had, or one you have heard about, and draw pictures to go with it.
Others liked it today
Arthur Gray
Removed the crown dangerous tree. The trunk was almost parallel to the ground. Height is about 24-26 feet (7-8 meters). I'm sitting on the trunk. Tied. The crown is also tied and sawn off. When the cut off crown falls, I cut the descent rope. The tree is lightened by 200-300 kilos. What does the tree do in this case? That's right, he's trying to straighten up. The amplitude of my galloping astride the maple trunk was about a meter. Lots of unforgettable things :-)
Tuk:
I will also share funny stories on the trees:
1. The simplest oak is 40 centimeters in diameter. I climb about 7 meters, fasten the rope and rappel down along it. I'm flying in about a meter. When landing, I discover the reason - the entire tree broke at the root. I decide to roll onto my back, which I do, waiting for the tree to fall from above. It wasn’t enough, it lay like a crown on a distant fence. Moral: tap and sniff every tree, even a very solid-looking one.
2. The horned tree begins to dry at the top. I stand in the fork, trim one horn from below, and cut from above. It falls off in the classic way, flies, sticks its end into the ground, falls and hits the trunk with its butt. A dry top of 20cm x 4m flies two centimeters from the ear, broken off from the impact. Happens.
This is what I had this winter:
I'm hanging on a pine tree - I'm taking it apart piece by piece. Everything is as it should be - a “slice” from the side of the fall and only then the main one. But I didn’t notice that the chain on the b/c had weakened and at the moment of separation the log grabbed the saw by the chain, tore it out of my hands and rushed down. Result: the strip on the Nordvent harness on which the rope went to the saw broke, the saw fell from a height of ~ 15 m and stuck in a snowdrift. He himself is unscathed.
Vladimir, Moscow
Here's a story that recently happened to me:
We cut down a tree in Saltykovka. Suddenly, in the midst of work, the cops arrive, put us and the owner in a car and take us to their station.
On the way they explain to us that it is prohibited to cut down trees even on your own property without permission. They referred to some documents...
Result: 20 minimum wages! 2000 rub.
Maybe someone knows something on this topic.
Sergey, Moscow
25.08.2003
I heard this story about an administrative fine. However, what do we, the promalps, care about? It should be the problem of the owner of the site - to obtain permission to cut down the tree. In the local forestry or village council or somewhere else. Well, if they call and ask whether they need permission to cut down a living tree, they must honestly answer what is needed. :-)
Vadim, Moscow
The dude removed the tree piece by piece. It means it is attached to the trunk with a mustache and sits on the trunk almost at the top, sawing off a piece above itself. But I forgot to file on the opposite side. And so he sawed the trunk almost to the end, the log that was above it split off and began to fall forward, pulling its tendril. The dude threw the saw, rested his hands and feet on the tree, but the log was more powerful. In general, he tore his mustache. Then, however, he almost fell back from the tree, but managed to grab the trunk. The conclusion is clear. You need to file from the back and have good ends.
Vadim, Moscow
The artist died before finishing his theater
ON TUESDAY evening, Anatoly Vladimirovich Romashin tragically died at his dacha in Pushkino at the age of 70. Theater and film artist, legendary Nicholas II from "Agony" by Elem Klimov, teacher at VGIK, Romashin in last years I became seriously interested in building my dacha near Moscow and independently developed the design and interior details. Following the example of Stanislavsky, he planned to organize a summer theater there. As the artist has repeatedly stated in an interview, “there are more than enough spectators in our district, in the entire Pushkinsky district there is only one cinema with one show a week, and I have a course at VGIK, and my colleagues will agree... So we will stage performances.”
As the Segodnya correspondent was told at the prosecutor's office in Pushkino, on that ill-fated Tuesday, Anatoly Romashin arrived at the dacha with a chainsaw - right on the site there was a withered pine tree, which the owner had been planning to uproot for a long time, but everyone never got around to it. The tree was huge - 80 cm in diameter at the cut site. This time, taking advantage of the absence of his wife and little son, Anatoly Romashin and his assistant set out to cut it down. Somewhere around 5 o'clock in the evening, they tied a rope to the top of the tree, which, according to the plan, the assistant was supposed to direct the falling pine in the right direction. And Romashin himself took up the chainsaw. When the pine tree swayed, the assistant, apparently unable to cope with the task, shouted: “Go away!” But Romashin unexpectedly found himself on the side where the tree fell. The artist died almost instantly from his injury. To avoid tragedy, all that was needed was to cut down the tree from the side in which it was intended to be felled.
Anatoly Romashin will be buried on August 11 at the Vagankovskoye cemetery. The editors of Segodnya express their sincere condolences to the artist’s family, friends and relatives.
Recently, dear comrades, I lived in a holiday home.
The house is great. And everything is great there. No defects are noticeable. So, apart from a feeling of gratitude, nothing arises in the heart of the vacationer.
Nevertheless, please listen to a little funny story related to this holiday home.
I must say that this house is located outside the city, in the forest. And it was built quite recently - this fall.
Five years ago, such a house would have been built on a living thread. But now the architect has gone out of his way and built the house fundamentally, beautifully and, we would even say, artistically. And this is very good.
Of course, there were columns. But since we have such a love for Greek art, then let there be columns. Moreover, here the architect brought out few columns - only two columns. And in addition, from a distance they can be mistaken for two pine trees. So what kind of conversation can there be? They stand and don’t ask for food.
But that's not the point.
So you look at this house, and you like everything - your heart rejoices and your soul rests. But then your gaze glances at the windows of the lower floor, and suddenly you notice some kind of abnormality. You expected to see beautiful modern mirror glass, and suddenly you see window frames in which either twelve or sixteen small glasses are inserted.
You again look in bewilderment at all six windows of the facade. Yes, there are tiny panes of glass set into the gorgeous oak frames.
You decide that the engineer at the end of construction went a little crazy and created such a farce. And you calm down on this, especially since many vacationers, it turns out, liked these windows the most. For some vacationers, it reminded them of some little mansion in the forest and something else fabulous.
But one fine morning, when I went out into the garden, one of the local employees came up to me and said this:
- Listen, I can tell you a story. And then it will be clear to you why we have such awkward windows. Just please, if you write, don’t write what kind of holiday home this is, otherwise they will laugh all around, and we wouldn’t want that.
I speak:
- Tell me. This must be interesting.
And so he told the following story.
This house was ready in the fall. And the first batch of vacationers was expected in October.
In September, the last little things were feverishly put in order. We have already screwed the hooks to the doors, nailed the latches and latches. We hung pictures and curtains.
Everything was ready for reception dear guests. And the only stop was behind the windows. The entire facade, where large glass windows were supposed to be, was not glazed.
And it’s autumn and damp outside. True, the windows are covered with shields, but this is not a solution.
The director of the house wrote tearful statements back and forth asking for the glass to be sent as quickly as possible, but it was all to no avail.
The director ran to the warehouse early in the morning and begged, begged, shouted and cursed. He said that the business was dying. A couple more weeks and it would be a disaster if he didn't get the glass.
But at the warehouse they shrugged their shoulders and said that glasses for them were expected, but had not yet been received. And there is no point in shouting and swearing: this will not help the matter. In addition to them, another construction is waiting for glass and do not worry.
The director fled to Moscow in a panic. But there they told him that the glass had been sent.
The director came back. He rushed to the warehouse again. But at the warehouse they calmly answered again:
— Your glasses aren’t there yet. We'll let you know when they arrive.
The director threw a formal tantrum in the warehouse. He shouted that he was being cut, that his heart - a citizen and a social activist - could not withstand such torture, that there were only nine days left, that, finally, all the trips had been sold and that vacationers were probably already packing their suitcases to go here on vacation. The warehouse responded again:
-Your cries are in vain. Since there is no glass, the warehouse cannot fulfill the order. Calm your nerves.
The director returned home sadly. The foreman and workers consoled him as best they could. They said we could wait a couple more days. It is important to install the glass at least three days before the arrival of vacationers. In three days the putty will dry and the room will warm up.
But the director was inconsolable.
Two days later, in the evening, when there were only six days left before the arrival of the vacationers, the foreman came running to the director and said:
— The meanness of the warehouse manager is beyond description. Glass is in stock. They have four boxes of glass lying in the dirt behind the barn. These boxes were seen by my nephew, who received drying oil today. Probably these glasses were intended for other construction. And here we are biting our elbows.
Director says:
“This warehouse manager has always disgusted me. Couldn't he, the brute, give me these glasses, intended for someone out there, I don't know? After all, I visited him today, and he didn’t even want to talk to me.
Foreman says:
“We have only one thing left to do: steal these glasses from the warehouse.” And when our glass arrives, let the manager give it to the construction company with which he is messing around and for which he is saving these glasses. It will be fair. Director says:
“It’s fair, but it’s not safe.” The warehouse manager will come running here, see his windows and raise a fuss.
Foreman says:
- And we will take these glasses and cut them into smaller components. And not a single devil in the world will know.
Director says:
- The situation is hopeless. I have to agree. Okay, take the glass and cut it.
And so at night the foreman and his nephew and the director himself and his wife climbed over the fence of the warehouse and took out two boxes of glass.
Feverish work went on all night and morning. The glazier cut glass. The carpenter was planing new crossbars for the frames. And the foreman himself painted these crossbars. By noon everything was ready. And suddenly the pale warehouse manager comes running and says to the foreman:
- Yesterday, in the evening, we received glass for you, and at night someone stole these glasses. I have no idea what to do now.
Foreman says:
- Oh, what a pity that these glasses were stolen from you. It’s also good that we got settled: we got some glass on the side. Otherwise they would bite their elbows.
The warehouse manager looked suspiciously at the glass frames, but, seeing that some small glass was inserted there, he went home.
However, the matter soon unraveled. The director and foreman received disciplinary action, and in addition, they began to deduct from their salaries for damaged glass. And, apparently, in two or three months new glass will be installed at the expense of the director and foreman.
The warehouse manager, who even before this accident almost never greeted the director, stopped greeting him completely. But the director spits on this from a high tree.
