“I want to tell a story that happened in my life many years ago. It was at the end of October 1998. On Saturday, I went for the weekend to a dacha outside the city in the village of Ostashkovo.
I decided to put away all my things before wintering, to hide something. Although there is a watchman in summer cottage gardening, the thieves still climb and steal everything that comes to hand. Then you won't find the ends.
I began to remove the mirror hanging on the veranda from the wall, and take it and fall out of the iron clamps that fastened it to the board. Fell on the wooden floor and shattered. Of course, I was frightened, but when I arrived home, I did not say anything to anyone. And I got stuck in my head that something bad was waiting for me. Some kind of anxiety in my soul.
I went to work on Monday. I worked as a driver in the motorcade №1252, which is in the Amur village. The working day from the very morning did not work out. There are some troubles at work - the car has a broken engine. In the second half of the day, technical assistance dragged my car to the enterprise. And then, as the proverb says: "Trouble does not come alone."
I work in a repair area and prepare a car for a long repair. An employee from the HR department comes up to me. And immediately inside, something seemed to break off, it became so bad, uncomfortable. As if in a fog I heard that there was misfortune at home - my wife died!
I was left alone with four children. After that, don't believe in omens and beliefs! Inevitably, you will start to flinch from all sorts of signs!
However, this is not the first time in my life. Another happened almost twenty years before the story with the broken mirror. It was in June 1979. The heat in the Omsk region was about 30 degrees.
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They gave me a car for the weekend for personal use at the company to transport household items. Previously, it was possible to use a state car once a year under a collective agreement.
It was necessary to take a new refrigerator bought in advance in the city to the village of Borisovskoye, Sherbakulsky district of Omsk region, to my brother.
And here in Omsk a black cat runs across my path. I feel anxiety in my soul. After loading the refrigerator and driving about 80 meters away from the house, I remembered that I had left my license with the rest of the documents at home in a work jacket. I had to return - again, a bad omen!
I would like to go back altogether and put the car in the garage. But where is there! We are stubborn, we went!
Arriving in the village of Borisovskoye and unloading the refrigerator, we sat down to dinner. As usual, I had a drink with my brother. It seemed a little - Sunday was ahead, we decided to go to the store (why didn't we walk on foot?). To get to the outlet, I had to take a bypass around the village: the central streets were fenced off for freight transport.
On the way back, I allowed my brother to drive. On the bypass, he almost hit people crossing the road. I shouted:
- Brake! - and grabbed the steering wheel with his left hand.
Instead of a brake, my brother, apparently confused, put pressure on the gas. As a result, we ended up in a ditch, having turned over twice. My brother flew out of the cab, but I stayed inside - the door jammed. We were all covered in dust, dirt, blood, but we were lucky, we got off with bruises and scratches. The car's cabin was beyond repair, there were no glasses at all.
I don't know how they survived, I still shudder. Here's how not to believe in omens and beliefs, and even with black cats!
Now I am retired and when driving a private car I literally shy away from black cats. I stop and wait for someone to drive back and forth."
Nikolay Sergeevich GOROVETS, Omsk