A Century Turns: Soviet Union's Life Expectancy: II


Chapter II: Lenin; The Corners That Circled Life

(1,066 words)

Early in his life, his parents settled an oversight and considered him an exception. Therefore, he was left to the whimsy nature that guided his rights. First, to proceed in this world he had decided to adjust that exception and have it accommodate him thereby making it his own. The part of town where they lived was rather small, yet it was too large for him to encompass. Being such that it is, he divided the outlay of the town in half and remained in the better half that would suit him best, of course, that will be where their home is, the school that he attends, the store that they frequent, and the Russian Orthodox Church, to which their father is a devout patron--oh my he almost forgot the park by the lake, where he often plays. An active child he was, as motivation was its cause to action. Whether it be some sport where agility, might, and mind, mingle with a winning spirit, or, perchance, it manifests itself as a game of mental assertiveness like one experiences resolve of equal pleasure, winning in the board game of chess.

His parents made that decision on a weekend, and since it was a beautiful day, he chose to spend this time in the park. Since he had already eaten breakfast, earlier that morning, and that lunchtime was about another hour away, it seemed agreeable for a splendid time in the park, so straightaway he went. Just beyond the park gate, a known curvy pathway would confront him, and fortunately, he had already fulfilled his obligation to attend to this issue without delay. He would forward a quick steady pace on the portions of pavement that will cross along the way, much like the integration of a ladder rung. Then he would ingratiate steps of care on the ground that parts from the paved portions that he would encounter along the way. Indeed, a straighter line saves much time. He was pleased to see the various invites that were all sectionally laid out before him as he scoped the whole in a singular breath and exhaled points of perspectives that would entertain his day, and the participants, likewise.

The family home life untangles like their downstairs hallway Grandfather's Pendulum Clock, whereto he deduced that it was defective, and therefore, cannot be relied upon. At times--not--always, it swings high to the left and then suddenly stops in the up position--briefly, before it drops and continues onward. The intervals of the clock tick-tock silence, is when the preceeding action is been committed. The occurrence of the episodes had nobody worried except him. His wary observation of the spectacle was cause for alarm when they awoke one morning and saw him standing in the middle of their large room where they all slept. He had just hollered into the wanting of silent sleep, "Get up or we will be late for school again." He quickly admits his claims with the two elder siblings, that he has been keeping count of the clock's periods of silence, and timed the length that was lost as it hung without worry or care to those mindlessly going about until the consequences of their ignorance materialize when their tardiness pairs with their attendance that's evidenced in school records.

And now ... the school bell has rung. The park that he pleasures in both muscularity and mentality, ills in parity--in a nutshell--the school has taught him that the eraser is the better half of a pencil. It is always the seldom used that comes to the aid and heals the whole abused. That illuminating factor was his focal point that would encourage his future from the descension of the crown, and to the ascension of communism's embrace. Paritry or equality of life, the essence of socialism's "eraser," and the end of disparity or inequality of life, the essence of communism's "pencil," that will inscribe members of a party that will control distribution equally among the masses. Such fell in favor of his eldest brother. Unbeknownst in youth that extends in the joy of oneness, there are times the silence of Heaven bears witness ... and a number ... and bides their time. The streets are full of civil unrest that poignantly hides the truth of frail bodies of hunger and emptiness need of thirst for their feeble tempt to survive and struggle in vain for a chance to live. Glimpses of a past looking onward and a smile that began a history, parts amongst the indigent faces. A shared staring of estrangement flits a crowd. A school's tardy bell rings in the distance, as kicked stones arouses a street absence.

Anna was the oldest and then there was Alexander, whom he called 'Sasha,' five were born after him of which two had died in their infancy, which left him two younger sisters and a brother. When they were very young, he was closest to sister Olga, who was born after him, then came their brother Dimitry, and lastly, Maria his baby sister. Their mother was a Swedish Lutheran, but not faithful to the faith. That was the rub that steered the silent lamb and his ram. Eight years after their sister was born, their devout Russian Orthodox father died after his brain disintegrated. A year later, his brother was arrested in a conspirated plot to assassinate the Tsar of Russia, to which he was later hanged. With the silence of the ram, a dream became a nightmare near the middle of that day. The death of his brother, shortly after the death of their father, would be the impetus for slogans of rhetoric. "One man with a gun can control 100 without one." Or, "There are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen." Or, "Why should freedom of speech and freedom of press be allowed? Why should a government which is doing what it believes to be right allow itself to be criticized? It would not allow opposition by lethal weapons. Ideas are much more fatal things than guns. Why should any man be allowed to buy a printing press and disseminate pernicious opinions calculated to embarrass the government?" "We are not shooting enough professors." ~ Vladimir Lenin

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