On the outskirts of the city, a miracle happened every year: the carnival opened on the bridge over the river, where lights flashed like stars and the music went on endlessly. The streets turned into bright ribbons: purple paper dragons hung above our heads, feathered headbands glittered in the sun, and the scent of roasted corn and lemon mingled with promises of adventure. I, a boy named Lyonya, walked with my grandmother through the crowd, to whom I trusted every childhood secret. We collected coins in a small pocket and whispered wishes, which the lights released back into the sky as fiery butterflies. On the central square, a host in a clown costume announced a mask contest. I won a small mask—a shy, smiling cat—which seemed to me a sturdy talisman. But then the carnival became something more to me: the music touched my grandmother’s heart, and suddenly I understood that joy is not a festival, but friendship and memories that last longer than the lights. We returned home late, to the sound of bells and the promise to see each other again in a year.
Задача Задача №3578511
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