Once upon a dream...

She always really liked old houses. Houses that have their own past. Entering such a house, you feel the indescribable atmosphere of antiquity, the subtle, barely curable smell of time, and the floorboards creak under your feet, which have absorbed the dust of centuries.
 ...The hall. A huge staircase leading up, and four doors around the perimeter. Behind the first door is a small room. This is the kitchen. There are elegant porcelain cups and tall glass glasses in old wooden cabinets. By the thin layer of dust, it becomes clear that this dish has not been touched for a very long time. There are wax stains on the kitchen table–candles were lit here.
  Leaving the kitchen and opening the next door, you can see a long corridor. Where does it lead? You can't see anything- it's dark. But the light of a portable flashlight dispels the thick darkness. There is an old twisted chandelier on the ceiling. Candles once burned on it, and now the spiders that have taken root here have woven their nets. To the right is another door, which opened just as easily and silently. But this room is empty. A small window looks out into the garden, a candlestick on the windowsill is the servants' room.
  Returning to the hall again, it is impossible to pass by the other two doors. One of them is a living room with a large fireplace and an antique piano by a high window, curtained with thin tulle, slightly swaying under the gusts of wind. But most of all, the portrait hanging over the fireplace attracts attention. It depicts a couple - a man with long hair and eyes as sea with splashes of amber, gently holding the hand of a lady in a light dress. However, it is almost impossible to see her face, because it is hidden in the shadow of the veil… In the hands of the girl is a snow-white rose, made so skillfully that it looks like a living one.
  There is a library behind the other door. There are a lot of old folios in her cabinets. There are a couple of armchairs and a table near the fireplace. On it is a twisted candelabra and an open book. This is a collection of poems… But whose?

"Two souls rushing through space,
Forever entwined by fate…
They are surrounded by deep silence, Having
found each other, having found peace..."

  Surprisingly, these poems seem very familiar. Thoughtfully, the girl closed the book and put it back on the table. I looked at the clock – it does not move, the hands froze at 12 o'clock. Morning or night? So strange…
  Returning to the hall, her eyes again saw the huge staircase that so beckoned to go up. What other secrets does this house keep? From a large window with multicolored panes, diffused moonlight poured out, leaving whimsical reflections on the steps…
  Suddenly she heard a melody. At first, light as a breeze, she captured her and the words came by themselves:

Dancing pairs, painted wings
Things I almost remember
And a song someone sings
Once upon a December

Someone holds me safe and warm
Horses prance through a silver storm
Figures dancing gracefully
Across my memory

Someone holds me safe and warm
Horses prance through a silver storm
Figures dancing gracefully
Across my memory


The melody guided her, making her forget about everything. She followed her, the moonlight enveloping her body in a silver veil. On the landing in front of the closed door, she noticed a wonderful piano. She ran her hand over it... the music leading her stopped. After a little hesitation, the girl took the handle and opened the door.
  It's a bedroom, but for some reason, it seemed strangely familiar to her. A Louis-style bed, a shaded lamp on a small table, a couple of chairs… There is a white rose on the bed… Taking it in her hands, the girl felt its unique fragrance. And, at the same time, she felt a light touch. With a sinking heart, she turned around... and she was speechless. Standing in front of her was the same man she had seen in the portrait… But his eyes, looking at her with such tenderness, delicate facial features, his whole figure seemed so native, close, that this feeling took my breath away…
  Immediately pictures flashed before her eyes… The house is lit by hundreds of candles on the huge twisted chandeliers of the ballroom. The fragrance of rosebuds, whose sprawling bushes grow near the house, the chirping of cicadas and the rustle of trees in the garden penetrates into the open windows. A lot of guests - ladies in silks and brocades, whose diamonds shine and sparkle, shimmering with all the colours of the rainbow on their swan necks, fanning themselves, talking to their gentlemen.
  Suddenly the doors open – the host and hostess of the ball enter the hall: she is in a snow-white dress, with a delightful white rose in her hair; he is a slender, tall, elegant man in a black tailcoat, his long hair is tied back with a black ribbon, his eyes carefully scan the assembled guests, a smile appears on his lips. He makes a sign to the orchestra and the musicians, obeying the wave of the conductor's wand, play a waltz.
  The hostess puts her white-gloved hand on her husband's shoulder and they open the first round of the waltz. Her legs in white satin shoes flutter on the parquet, her eyes are closed – she has completely surrendered to the power of music and her leading partner. It seems that the dance can last forever, but the music subsides… Imperceptibly separating from the others, they move away to one of the open windows overlooking the garden. Suddenly her husband smiles and points her to the window sill. She looks and a smile also appears on her lips. A heart and initials left by someone's hand are carved on the wide windowsill. She looks slyly at her husband, who answers her with an equally expressive look, and then, taking her hand, gently touches it with his lips. She wants to say something, but…

  The girl, through the fog of oblivion, felt someone's strong hands pick her up. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was in the arms of that incredible man. But now she remembered… The name dear to her heart flew off her lips by itself. He nodded in the affirmative. There is no doubt anymore. But how, how is this possible?! And then she heard his voice, which whispered:
  - Love is long-suffering, merciful, love does not envy, love does not exalt itself, is not proud, does not commit outrages, does not seek its own, is not irritated, covers everything, believes everything, hopes everything, endures everything. Love never ceases. I love you!
  An inexplicable feeling of happiness gripped her whole being. It turns out that miracles are really possible. Through time, through distance… But even in the new time, in a new incarnation, it will not be difficult to find each other. If you really want to. And you wait. AND YOU BELIEVE!