Аннотация: MMMDCCLI. Call sign - Writer. A story. - January 22, 2026.
Call sign - Writer. A story.
A dark, warm blindage (dugout).
It would seem that vision must to be get worse, but, on the contrary, it is improving - you read less: you look at small letters less often.
I am recalling... I can to recall different things: I have three lives.
My first life was studying at a military college. I left army almost immediately after completing my studies in the military college: political departments (in military units) were liquidated.
My second life: the working in the banking and investment sector. This second life ended with unpleasant health-related events.
My third life - I started writing books.
These are not just simply books. These are such books that people need. I write about those I see. I have signed a contract, and I am a full participant in the events. All my books are immediately going to print, to the publishing house. I complete writing a book, and it goes straight to the publishing house.
I come out of the blindage. I look at the dog, then at the cat. They behave calmly. Then I look at the bird: does it flap its wings or not? He flaps.
I sit down in a bukhanka [type of vehicle], I go to the regimental commander: they called him (by phone) from Moscow today.
My companion, sitting in front of me in the bukhanka, has a broad shoulders and a small head.
Familiar places flash outside the window. There used to be a forest here. Little later there was no forest here. And now pine trees are growing abundantly here: nature is recovering quickly.
After the meeting at the command post, I have free time: three hours. I can dedicate them to a walk. This is one of my methods - walking for three hours - the method how to achieve a state of inspiration.
I feel myself inspired. The text already is in my head. I quickly write a few pages.
I will read these pages to the people of labor, who are behind the Ural. I will go there to meet with the readers. I will read these pages to them. Or others pages. Or I'll tell them about my life, about my work.
I hear my companion shouting my call sign.: "The writer! Let's go!" The bukhanka is ready. We'll be going back now. It is they gave me this call sign: "Writer." I'm not arguing. They know better. The louder the call sign, the more insignificant the personality. If it's a "Rambo", then it's probably a soldier driving a horse cart.
A call came to my cell phone. A people from the top. From Moscow. From the Writers' Union, from the secretariat. They invite me to speak at the "Culturcommand" program, on central radio.
January 22, 2026 00:07
Translation from Russian into English: January 22, 2026, 16:14
Владимир Владимирович Залесский " Позывной - Писатель. Рассказ. "
{ 3780. Позывной - Писатель. Рассказ. - 22 января 2026 г.
MMMDCCLI. Call sign - Writer. A story. - January 22, 2026.
Vladimir Zalessky Internet-bibliotheca. Интернет-библиотека Владимира Залесского}
[MMMDCXCVII. Out of entrenchment to seaside resort. A story. - September 7, 2025.
MMMDCCXL. Beauty queen Masha Malinina became a school teacher and received a medal for the medic-orderly merits. A story. - December 26, 2025.
MMMDCCXLIX. Call sign - Rambo. A story. - January 17, 2026.]