Three Kids and a Kettle

A day in the lane

The lane in front of our house after the night of snow.

Snow in the night, a metre in the lane. At six o'clock every man on our street was outside with a shovel, and nobody said a word, only the sound of metal on the ice. Erkin's courtyard was done first, because his guests are at the door at eight. The pharmacy's steps were done by a boy of twelve for 2 som.

By nine the road was open, the hill looked like a cake with sugar, and the church bells rang for the morning Qurbana as usual, a little muffled.

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