For good or for bad?

THE PLACE WHERE I DIE
"Do not be afraid of death, it will come to you anyway! Better turn your face, smile and make friends with death."
Indian philosopher, 6th century BC.
Today
- Mrs. Irina, everything remains in force?
-Yes. Was the money transferred to my daughter's account?
-Here's a screenshot.
-Good.
The day after tomorrow I will sneak out of the house. The road to point "a" will take two hours. I ordered an air taxi yesterday when no one was at home. But, remember our agreement, the shooting will begin only when I walk to point "b". Not earlier. Therefore...
- Miss Irina?
- Sorry, I had another seizure!
-How about...
- No, everything stays the same. What do you want, I can’t live forever, soon I will be one hundred and thirty years old.
Are you sure you won't change your mind? Advertising for this edition of the reality show is already in full swing.
-Not. I have no way back. There are only two ways, the hospital room, and then the morgue, or a quiet death in nature, when I get to point "b".
- But still... Doctors can keep you on painkillers if you are in severe pain. And the place where you are going to go is far from civilization.
-Painkillers no longer help. And here's something else...
-What?
-Make sure that none of your staff blabbed to my family about my plans. It's in your best interest.
But they will see you on TV!
- When I get to point "b" it won't matter anymore.
First day of the show
- Mrs. Irina, why did you deceive us? You said you'd be at point b the day after tomorrow, but you left home yesterday.
-It was necessary. What do you care? The main thing for you is that I am here today. I'm here?
-Yes, but...
- I had to make my own house out of snow, this is called a snow chum. Well... And one more thing to cook.
-What?
-Ouch...
-What's wrong with you?
- All the same, it's called old age. I have lived a good, long life. All my dreams have come true. I had a lot of love, I lived in a magnificent house. My children and grandchildren love me. Before we married the man of my love, I had many lovers. Yes, yes, don’t look at me like that, at one time I was ... In general, I wanted to say that you will find out everything in due time.
- My team has arrived. You can rest for now.
-Good. I will go to the tent.
In one hour
- Dear viewers, we are starting our reality show. According to the terms of our show, Mrs. Irina, the main character, must live here, at point "b" for three days. Mrs. Irina is very sick, but, according to the terms of the show, she does not have painkillers with her. She has water, these three small bottles, food, in the full sense of the word, too. There are only three small energy bars for three days.
The manager passed on the information that our chat had already started working. Let's see what they write to us.
What? Gentlemen of the audience, why is it so? Why are you writing this?
No one forces the heroine of the show to die of thirst and hunger. Moreover, a doctor flew in with us to help Mrs. Irina, if necessary. The truth is, shh, she doesn't know about it. The heroine of the show can at any time refuse to continue the game and she will immediately be given water, food and medicine. However, in this case, the game will be over and the prize pool will not be paid out!
The prize fund of the show is huge. If Mrs. Irina survives for three days without medicine, food and water, then a large, very large amount of money will be transferred to her relatives. The prize fund is 500 million rubles, which is certainly less in dollars, but the dollar, as you know, is not popular with us today.
An advance payment has already been sent to the account of Mrs. Irina's daughter. Under the terms of the game, the advance, as you know, is paid regardless of the result of the show. The advance, of course, is not as huge as the prize fund, but still ... We have a call!
Relatives of Mrs. Irina are in touch. I will answer, and you look at this time advertising, dear viewers!
After advertising

- And now, I'm with you again. It was a fierce battle! Ms. Irina's family wanted to fly in and take her home immediately, but our lawyer convinced them. The lawyer explained to them that, since Mrs. Irina is a capable member of society, she is free to dispose of herself as she pleases!
Well, do you hear a familiar musical signal? Yes, the show is on! And here is our heroine, let's get acquainted with Mrs. Irina. Hello madam!
- Good afternoon, madam!
-Can I go to your tent? The audience does not believe that you do not have food and water with you, they believe that you have hidden supplies somewhere.
- Yes, please come in! As you can see, the snow tent is an empty round space. I ordered a round tent a very long time ago. I brought a tent with me, set it up, smeared it with snow, yesterday there was just a thaw. It's cold today, and the snow crust on the tent won't melt.
-Are you going to sleep here? What for? We have prepared a place for you in a warm trailer, which the helicopter brought here.
Yes, I'll sleep in the trailer. However, I will rest here during the day.
-But...
- Under the terms of the contract, I can spend the whole day where I want, right?
-Yes. But...
- I have to spend the night in a trailer, under the guns of cameras, I agree with this. But during the day I am left to myself. The camera will follow me everywhere during the day, but sometimes I will need to catch my breath and be in silence, alone, even for an hour,This is also in the terms of the contract.
-For this case, we have prepared a place for you in another trailer, where there are no cameras. Every day, an hour of time from 12 to 13 hours is yours.
-Not. I'm not sure that there are no cameras there, so I prepared a place for myself to rest myself.
- However, Mrs. Irina, this is not possible ...
-Why? Is there a clause in the contract that I do not have the right to rest where I want?
- No, there is no such item. But, I don't like it!
- I understand that you are afraid that I have hidden water and food here, and I will drink and eat to my heart's content until I am inaccessible to your cameras for an hour? Well, search me! Let's not get offended!
- Madam, what are you suggesting? No, I did not mean that. And as far as I can see, it's impossible to hide anything here! However... Yeah, what is it?
- It's an emergency emergency door. You can look out of it, it leads towards the lake. The tent has two doors. If you don't believe me, you can put a guard at the second door!
-Not. I don't think this is necessary.
Second day of the show
- Good morning, dear viewers!
Our heroine woke up. Let's greet her and ask how her night was! Mrs. Irina, good morning, how did you sleep?
- I had a great sleep!
- Do you need medical attention? Did you have enough water and food yesterday?
- Yes, I ate the bar, and I even had some water left, here, a few sips! I'll be able to stay on this water until lunchtime. Do we have lunch at noon?
-Yes. What will you do today?
-I will walk. There is a lake behind my tent, I will walk on the ice, and then, after dinner, I will go for a walk in the forest.
- Do you need medical attention? Don't be shy, viewers know you have terminal cancer! Are you in a lot of pain? Just tell us and we will help you!
- No, I don't need anything! The air here is excellent, which is probably why I feel so great, as I have not felt for a long time!
-Good! You are well done! Dear viewers of our show, in order to be sure that the show goes off without a hitch, we provided Mrs. Irina with clothes from designer Sokol. These are warm, comfortable clothes, heated clothes. The only thing missing from this outfit is pockets. You probably understand why this was done. Pockets are a place to hide food or medicine. And according to the rules of the game, this should not happen.
Third day of the show
-Good afternoon, dear viewers! Today is the third day of the show! Our heroine did not look well in the morning, but again refused to help. While Mrs. Irina is resting in her tent, or as she herself calls it, the plague, I will tell you a little secret. According to the results of the voting of the audience, the show has already ended. Let's listen to this sound together! Yes, that sound means the show is over! There is such a clause in the conditions of the show. Viewers can decide by popular vote that the show must be completed before the deadline. The audience is very sorry for our heroine, who really behaves like a hero. She touched the hearts of the audience.
They voted that the show should be completed not tomorrow, in the morning, but today. Therefore, after Ms. Irina rests, we will inform her that she has won. The relatives of our heroine, along with an additional team of doctors, fly here by air taxi, which was provided by the organizers of the show. Incidentally, Mrs. Irina also does not know about this yet. Well, the lunch break, or as Mrs. Irina calls it, the hour of silence, is over. It's time to disturb our heroine! I go in... Oh, where is she? Maybe she went out the back door? Maybe she got mad?
Sorry, there will be an ad.
Fourth day
They won't find me. I've thought of everything. I know this place very well! A year ago, when I realized that I was terminally ill, I climbed this place far and wide. My family did not yet know about my illness and no one suspected anything.
I've thought of everything. The tent, the escape routes, I thought about all this during the long sleepless nights when I writhed in pain. In fact, I didn’t need food all these days, I didn’t even eat their bars until the end. I buried the rest in the snow. I need water, but it was also enough. I haven't had an appetite for a long time, but if I told the organizers of the show about it, there would be no heat of the game. After all, according to the terms of the show, I had to really want to eat, but get only one bar a day. No, I’m still cunning, I wanted to eat, but if I had stayed at home, I wouldn’t have been able to fight with myself, but now ... Now, because of this bar diet, I feel an unprecedented lightness! It's just getting harder and harder. Phew, I'll rest! How painful! The snow is so soft! No, we can't relax yet, they might find me! I haven't gone very far yet! My task was to reach the place that I had prepared for myself in advance, and I will reach it! Well, and what to dissemble? I wanted to help my family financially! Even if I had not lasted the allotted time, my relatives would still have an advance! But, I survived! I heard a signal that meant the show was over! I am thirsty! There is so little water left! God, what a fool I am! I can eat snow! It's clean and untouched! No germs! It's funny, I'm going to die and thinkAyu about not getting infected when I eat snow! Phew, you can relax! My first stop. This is where I dug my first tent. I won’t make a chum, I’ll just rest in the tent, and then I’ll bury it again when I go further so that they don’t find my traces.
Fifth day
So cold. There is almost no strength left. However, you have to go. I don't want wild animals to attack me when I sleep. My second tent is in the ravine, I dug it out with difficulty.
Sixth day
A year ago, I built a small platform on a tree. It is not high above the ground, I even made notches that look like steps to easily climb the platform. A year ago, I did it without difficulty. But now...
Now I have no strength. I fell near a tree and lay there until evening. In my delirium, my beloved men came to me, my beloved G.Y. was with me the longest. He whispered in my ear that he was waiting for me and loved me as before, and then I opened my eyes. It was getting dark. I had a good rest, but still the way up to the platform was difficult for me. And here I am. The platform is covered in snow. I lay down and almost fell into the snow blanket. However, how much snow this winter! Before I left, I looked at the forecast. Soon it will snow again. And it will go on for three days. Well, this is the future I chose. May it be so!
RED HEART FIRST
Interview to the correspondent of the magazine "Are you a fan? The whole truth about the world show business!"
Correspondent
- Hello, Mrs. Iren, the topic of our new meeting is your book, which, as I know, you have recently finished writing. Is it true that it was written in ten days?
Iren
-Yes it's true. Thanks to the ability to dictate a book using a computer program, I wrote the book very quickly. Yes, I wrote it exactly ten days. I love to set challenging goals and complete them.
Cor.
- Incredible! But perhaps the book is very small in terms of words?
Iren
- No, it's a regular standard book. It contains the number of words that is required in the editorials. Books below this volume are not quoted.
Cor.
How did you manage to write a complete book in such a short time?
Iren
- Until computers came into general use, I typed my books on a typewriter. If I were to write my book in this way even now, it would probably take six or eight months, or even all ten, to write this book.
If I were to pound on a computer keyboard without the help of a dictation program, I would probably spend three or four months. Well, with the help of this program, I did it in ten days.
Cor.
-Your readers are probably in anticipation and eager to immediately know what your new book is about?
Share a secret?
Iren
- Okay, I'll share! Although this is no longer a secret. This book, as trite as it sounds, is about love. However, in addition to love, the book contains fatal secrets: revenge, betrayal, murder! There is also a slight note of mysticism. The intrigue of the book is that a girl who graduated from a prestigious educational institution in America, a girl who speaks four languages, gets a job as a simple housekeeper for a lonely Korean man. However, everything is not so clear. To get this place, the girl takes part in... the casting of housekeepers. The fact is that the man in whose house the girl is going to work is a movie star. The young man is lonely, sick and has not believed in love for a long time. The whole life of this man is shooting, shooting and shooting again, and everything that accompanies the shooting, that is, meetings with fans, photo shoots, etc. The girl is young, pretty and has a strong character. What do you think will happen at the end of the book?
Cor.
-Oh, I even wanted to urgently buy a book and read it!
Iren
- Just do not look at the last page ahead of time!
Cor.
-I won't, I solemnly promise and swear! To be honest, I already read the beginning of the book on one of the book sites where the book is posted and was intrigued. The book is very easy to read, perhaps it was written easily?
Iren
- Well, how can I say, of course, I did not experience torment in search of plot twists, but otherwise it was a hell of a job. I couldn't put the writing process aside and do something else. I literally worked day and night. Yes, I wrote at night too. The plot unfolded in my head as if someone was dictating to me and I was afraid to interrupt this process. The program with which I dictated the book is not perfect, it makes mistakes, distorts the endings, inserts its own words instead of those that I dictate. And so, after dictation, I saved the text on the computer and began editing and checking the text. Of course, I worked much faster with the help of the dictation program, but I could not do without the standard Word program.
Cor.
— Is that how? It's a pity, but I wanted to switch completely after our interview to this program in order to write my notes.
Iren
-Nevertheless, try it, maybe you will be more lucky, maybe you will have a more perfect microphone. Yes, the program even puts punctuation marks, commas, periods, if you ask it to! By the way, about points, having written a book and put the last point, I moved it figuratively speaking away from me for six months. I have such a rule, I reread what I wrote only after six months, or even after a year. It's wellIt is necessary to make it clear what kind of thing I wrote. Good or bad, what is recorded, is it interesting, is the plot catchy?
Cor.
-So what? Does it catch? Captivating?
Iren
-A writer is always dissatisfied with his work! I feel the same way about my books. However, magic happened with this book. Having opened the file with the book, I forced myself to stop thinking about the style of the book and the mistakes, stopped thinking about myself as the author of this book, and suddenly ... I read it. Maybe it happened because the plot is based on a story about a real person.
Cor.
-Yes? I thought the main character was a fictional character.
Iren
-Not. The protagonist of the book is a person who actually exists. But the plot and the proposed circumstances where I placed the hero are almost all fictional. Probably only fifteen percent of the book, what happened to this person in reality, the rest is fiction.
Cor.
- You, of course, will not reveal to me the name of the person whose story formed the basis of the book?
Iren
-Of course not. Otherwise, you will not be interested in reading. But, there are hints in the book, following these hints, you can get to the real prototype of the book. There are a lot of hints.
Cor.
- May I ask a modest question? You probably like the actor who is taken as the basis of your hero? Perhaps when you wrote the book, you associated yourself with the main character?
Iren
- Yes, the question is really not modest, but I will answer it. Without personal interest in the protagonist, this book would certainly not exist. But... In the process of writing, I was two people, him and the main character. I went through all the plot twists with them. Rather, they passed along with me, because they are me. My thoughts, my feelings, my judgments about this life. However, there was something in which I was not in control, I'm talking about plot twists. Here the heroes acted on their own. I put them in the proposed circumstances, and then they themselves led the plot, and I just wrote it down. In any case, this is how I see the process of writing a book.
Cor.
-Why is the main character in your book Korean? Why not American, Russian or Chinese? I know that seventy percent of your books are about China, why did you suddenly change your main theme?
Iren
-No, I didn't cheat on anyone, I'm a very loyal person! Do you know that until some century, Koreans did not have their own alphabet? They used Chinese characters. Only after one of the Korean emperors came up with the alphabet, the Koreans began to gradually move away from hieroglyphs. Yes, and at the very beginning, the Korean alphabet was for commoners, and the aristocrats continued to think and write in hieroglyphs, and only somewhere in the eighteenth century did the Korean alphabet firmly enter the life of literally all sectors of Korean society. Therefore, as you understand, the connection with China is still very strong among the Koreans, although they sometimes try to deny it.
Cor.
- I do not quite understand your idea.
Iren
- Okay, I'll explain now. China is the dominant in the centuries-old Asian melody, this applies not only to Korea, but also to Japan. The protagonist of my book, although a Korean, is a descendant of the great Chinese philosopher Confucius. This is one of the real facts. Oh, I'm sorry, I let it slip! This is one of the hints. Walking through it, you will understand, you will recognize the name of the actor whose story formed the basis of the book.
Cor.
-Our interview is coming to an end. I wanted to ask, if the opportunity presented itself to meet the actor in question, would you take it?
Iren
-Probably not. I placed the hero in my proposed circumstances, he lived as the circumstances ordered. In real life, the actor is of course a completely different person, with his own advantages and disadvantages. The basis of the life of any actor is his roles played, it is there that he is alive, real. When the filming is over, the actors very hard part with the life of their on-screen image. No, what I see on the screen is enough for me. And I think that if this book somehow miraculously fell into the hands of this actor, he would not recognize himself in the book hero. And... You know what I thought when I re-read my book a year later?
Cor.
- No, of course I don't know. Tell me?
Iren
-Yes, I'll tell you. After rereading the book, I regretted that the story was already over. I wonder what thoughts and feelings you will have, my dear readers, when you read my book "Korean Lovers"?
RED HEART SECOND
Interview to the magazine "Are you a fan? The whole truth about the world of show business."
How quickly the year has flown by! Thank you very much for agreeing to give a new interview to our magazine "Are you a fan? The whole truth about the world of show business." What interesting things happened this year?
-I saw a red heart and wrote a new book.
-Heart? Is this some new story you wrote?
-Not. I actually saw a big red heart in front of my eyes.
Is it something mystical? Some mysterious story?
-Well, I do not know. Now I will state the facts, and it is up to you and my readers to judge whether this story is connected with mysticism.
-I'm getting impatient!
-Good. Now I'll tell you everything. So, on May 29, 2021, I finished work on the story "Koreanlovers. "I put an end to it and exhaled. The story was over. Satisfied and relaxed, I was driving home by bus. It happened when the bus left the Shkolnaya stop and drove up to the Sportivnaya stop. My eyes, tired from work, were covered and suddenly I saw before my eyes big red heart. In surprise, I opened my eyes, the image of the heart of course disappeared. When I closed my eyes again, the heart appeared again. It flickered for a few more seconds, and then disappeared completely.
-Wow! Does this happen?
- As you can see, it happens. This story had a continuation. On May 29, 2022, exactly one year later, I was at home all day, but history repeated itself. Again, though for a few seconds, I saw the same red, big heart.
It flickered before my eyes for a very short time, and then disappeared!
-So what? What was it?
-That's all. I do not know what it was, why and how it will end. Simply, twice in my life, I saw something that I can not explain.
-Perhaps this happened because, as I know, you recently finished writing a new book?
-Yes, that's probably it. I have actually finished writing a new book. It may well be that a strange red vision visited me, because the prototype of these two books: "Korean Lovers" and "Werewolves Love at Night" is the same. Although the books are not similar. The plot, genre, characters are all different. If in the first In the book the emphasis was on love and gentle humor, the second book was written in the horror genre.These books are united by only one red thread.In general, time will tell what it was and why I saw exactly what I saw.By the way, after the second appearance ", I was waiting for the continuation. I thought that the appearance of a red heart for the second time meant something, but it simply disappeared. Disappeared without explanation. My first impulse was to get into a search engine on the Internet and ask a question. But I immediately pulled myself up, I I realized that I must look for the answer myself.Probably there will be no clues.
-Even during the first interview, you revealed a secret to me. You gave me a name, told me who the real hero is, the image that you put in the first book "Korean Lovers", and now the second book "Werewolves Love at Night" got the same hero. I know that this man is a well-known person in South Korea, and not only there, he is a world-famous star. A year has passed, maybe now it's time to name this person?
- No, I don't think it can be done. Firstly, the intrigue will disappear, and secondly... It is incorrect to name the actor, but I think that this is not a problem. For those who are interested and who want to get to the bottom of the matter, I left a lot of hints. Thanks to these tips, it will be easy to get to the original. At the heart of any sympathy is respect. Among other things, talent, charisma and so on, the actor in question is responsive and not indifferent. Now I will talk about a real story, it can also become a hint for those who are interested. So, history.
In the boarding school for hearing-impaired children, there was chaos, children were subtly mocked, there were even facts of sexual molestation. When the facts surfaced, a book was written. However, the book did not produce a big explosion, the educators and administration of the boarding school were only threatened with a finger. The book fell into the hands of the actor, he was outraged and amazed. The actor insisted that the script be written according to the book, and he also played the main role in the film. This time the public outcry was like a bomb going off. There was a court, there was a long trial. Justice finally prevailed. No one escaped punishment. It happened thanks to caring people. First of all, of course, to the writer and actor, screenwriters and film crew. But the lever that opened the fetid swamp of the boarding school was still the actor.
-I remember in the book "Korean Lovers" you touched on this story in passing. Did this story hit you so hard that you included it in the book?
- Yes, I imagined a child who has been in a vacuum since birth, he hears nothing, or almost nothing, the world is hostile and incomprehensible to him. This child is deprived of many joys of life, but once in a boarding school, he understands that his suffering is not a chapel, in addition to moral suffering, he must now endure physical pain. This child begins to understand that no one will come and protect him. Nobody needs him. I think that similar thoughts visited the actor when he decided to shoot in this film. We are all just dust particles in space, and on this earth we certainly see ourselves as big and significant for the world. But when trouble comes and there is no one to protect us, we all dream of a protector. About the protector who will come and eliminate the injustice of the world. I am glad that the book about unfortunate children fell into the hands of the actor in time and he was that defender.
-Our interview is coming to an end, what would you like to say in the end to your readers?
-What would I like to say? I... Now I will formulate. I would like to receive letters from readers. It's hard for me to know if the book I've written is good or not. It is difficult for me to understand whether there is logic in the fictional story, whether the characters evoke sympathy or antipathy. Maybet, someone wants me to write a sequel to the book? Readers can freely write reviews to me directly on the Proza.ru website, but if someone does not want others to read his review and it is intended only for me, I can give my email address. I write books for you, and every day I keep track of how many people are currently reading my books. I see people who are regular readers of my books, but I can’t somehow celebrate it until the person writes to me. In short, I can only say one thing: “I thank everyone who reads and will read my books!”
ON THURSDAY THE FOURTH
I'm standing in line. No, not for food. Queue to the shaman. Everyone wants to know what's ahead. And I want to know what's behind. I forgot something. Need to check.
Why don't you want to open this door? - the shaman smiles at me, but her question cuts the heart with a knife.
-Which door? - I ask again, although I know the answer very well.
-You know. - the shaman gets up from her seat, goes around the table and walks towards me. The smile of the shaman is still the same radiant, but a chill runs through me, - answer me, or go away!
-This door changes every time, I'm scared to even touch it! - I shout in the face of the shaman, speeding up the pace of speech, - However, the door is no longer a dream. I haven't seen her in my dreams for a year now.
“This is bad,” the shaman says slowly, changing the pace of the conversation and takes me by the shoulders, “in the language of medicine, it’s like oncology at the last stage. That's why everything is so bad for you.
You must go to the door, you must be afraid to a cold sweat, but go. Have you decided to forget?
-But there is horror behind the door!
- Horror in your eyebrows, dear! - the shaman gently runs her finger over my face, - when was the last time you were at the beautician? Your eyebrows are indecently thick, because of them you have a stern and not offensive look, and men love accessible women! Give a business card to a beautician? Doesn't cost much, but does a good job! By the way my sister!
-What are you speaking about? - I backed away, - I will not let you cut your eyebrows, they are my pride!
- Well, now, you are relaxed! - the shaman sat me down in the red chair again, - now let's talk! Your crown is a bad damper, it lets your energy through. You know it?
I wondered if I knew about the top of the flap? No, and I didn't want to know. I just wanted to remember, but the shaman didn't want to help me. Well... I stood up abruptly.
- Excuse me, I'll go! - talk about the evil eye, energy vampires and other unclean nonsense made me sad and terrified.
- Yes, - the shaman stopped smiling, - go, go, baby! But if you leave now, you will no longer be able to cross this threshold, and help will be needed very soon. I can even tell you the exact date. - the shaman pulled my eyelid and carefully examined my eye, - you will come running here again in four days. It will be Thursday, the fourth number. Death will touch you with a wing, but will not take you this time. This will be a rehearsal.
I just wanted to remember! - I shouted into my beautiful face, - remember, you understand, remember! Step back! And you drag me forward, on Thursday the fourth!
-On Thursday the fourth, at four quarters of an hour, four little grimy imps were drawing a drawing in black ink. Extremely clean! - the shaman sat down at the table and began to recite a patter. She spoke and immediately wrote down what she said.
- Are you at all? - I wanted to say that not everything is at home with the shaman. But I realized that it is not necessary to emphasize the obvious fact. And it was so clear that she was not normal. Why am I listening to all this?
-Here, look what happened! - the shaman threw a drawing under my nose. It turns out that these were not notes, but a drawing. - And stop yelling already! You shout again, I'll kick you out, and now it's for good!
I was still annoyed, but I didn't dare to protest. Throwing the drawing almost in my face, the shaman stepped aside and began to cook something in a strangely curved red saucepan.
The drawing showed that door, and there was a calendar hanging on the door. The fourth Thursday of that year was circled in black pencil. I looked at the drawing, the drawing looked at me. Our idyll was interrupted by a shaman.
“Here, have a drink,” she pushed a large mug towards me. - Do not be afraid, this is a sweet drink. You need to drink everything, bitter - at the very bottom. It sank and did not rise up. Therefore, when you drink sweets, be sure to drink what has precipitated.
Why are you silent? Don't you want to drink?
-I'm afraid! - my voice suddenly disappeared and I whispered, trying to explain to the shaman that I want to leave now, but at the same time I can’t.
-Do not be afraid! I guarantee results! Did you pay in cash for my session, or by bank transfer?
- Cash. Small change, just like you said on the phone. I collected change for all relatives. I just got it.
-Young lady! I didn't mistake you. Well, I praised you, and now let's drink!
Sighing resignedly, I raised the mug to my mouth nonetheless. It smelled amazing! I drank the drink in three sips, even though the drink was very hot.
I drank, of course, and what was at the bottom.
All this time, the shaman sat opposite me and watched intently.
From the fact that the drink was hot, and I was wearing three sweaters, dressed one on top of the other, this was also by the way one ofconditions of the visit to the shaman, I blushed because I was hot. Well... That's all. These were all changes. The shaman waited a few more minutes for who knows what, and then said
-Badly. Didn't work. Don't want to sleep?
-Not. What do you need?
- No, you don't need to.
-And then what?
-You... Problem, it turns out! If I had known, I wouldn't have taken your case!
-Sorry! - my voice sat down even more, and sounded like a mosquito squeak.
- Well, - the shaman pulled out a smartphone and began to look for something there, - it's too late to retreat. Ah, I found it, we will sing karaoke!
-What?
-Wait, I'll turn on the bluetooth, it is necessary that the sound comes from the speaker!
-What did you just say? Sing?
-Yes. You love to sing, so you indicated it in the questionnaire!
-But... It's strange! And I can't, my voice is cracked.
-Yes, that is right. Your voice is gone, but it's not the first time, is it? You indicated in the questionnaire that it disappears from you periodically, once every three months, and you also have a cough all the time, right?
- The doctor said that it was not from a cold, but something psychological!
Yes, I found it! Songs from your favorite movies! Ready? Let's sing!
-What about the neighbors?
-Worry about yourself!
-But...
The roar of the music drowned out my weak exclamation. The shaman also sang, however, since we sang without a microphone, we were almost not heard. After singing six or maybe eight songs, the shaman turned off the music. After the song marathon, the silence was so warm! Or was it the steam from the soup that the shaman placed in front of me?
- Well, say something?
-What to say?
-Order! - the shaman laughed, - the voice returned! It will never disappear again! Even with the most severe cold, you will be able to speak normally!
-Yes?
-Karaganda! Let's eat soup! Let's try again! I must say right away that the soup is very, very bitter! But, you have to eat everything to the drop! There will be a cough, cough, but eat!
The taste of the soup was throat-rending. But I ate everything. Nothing left on the bottom!
I ate the last drops of soup as if in a fog, I wanted to sleep right away, it was like a lightning strike!
The shaman took me to a mountain of rags that lay on the floor and told me to sit down on them and lie down. I tried to say I wouldn't sleep here, but I hung up.
I woke up from the fact that the shaman ordered to take off the first jacket. My hands did not obey, but I managed and again fell into a dream. I was woken up twice more. When the sweatshirts, which were heavy as weights, left my body, I felt an unprecedented lightness and fell asleep calmly and soundly.
When I woke up, it turned out that I was standing near the door. My fingers were on the handle, all I had to do was turn. I knew that today was the fourth, the calendar on the door was drawn. Not only was Thursday the fourth underlined, but fours were scattered on the margins of the calendar - it was drawn by my hand. I painted it. I recognized my handwriting. I still have this habit, when I think about something, I draw scribbles on any piece of paper.
I listened. Some kind of life was going on outside the door, a baby was crying, someone was talking in raised tones, the TV was mumbling, the radio was talking. Yes, someone's everyday life was going on behind the door, but why did I hesitate then, and did not dare to turn the handle?
While I was playing for time, all the sounds behind the door subsided. I turned around. I was in an empty and dark room. The great hall was plunged into darkness. Large windows, covered with curtains, gave a little light, but it was not enough to see the entire hall. The hall was so huge that I could not cover it with my eyes, where my view was powerless, darkness swirled. The horror launched its tentacles at me again! Suddenly, the handle on the door began to turn on its own, someone was trying to leave the room. I did not want to see the one who is now standing outside the door. I did not want to see him, but I had no choice. Nausea rose up in his throat. I began to vomit. My stomach was empty, but the urge continued! The muscles of the press ached, the head was spinning. I managed not to fall! Suddenly, behind the door, a baby began to cry at the top of its lungs! The door handle began to rotate again. I rushed to the door and squeezed the door handle in my fist. I was holding the doorknob with all my might, but someone was turning it with force on the other side of the door!
Suddenly my mouth opened and the sounds of someone else's voice poured out of my throat.
-Open up! Open the door yourself! You must get ahead of him! Don't let him open the door on the other side! Don't stand still! I order you, in the name of fulfilling your main desire, open the door yourself! Here, now, turn the knob!
-Yes I believe you! I whispered in my own voice and turned the knob. The door did not open immediately, but then gave way. I entered.
There was an office in front of me, it was empty. Tables, cabinets, two large windows. There was nothing else in the office. I knew where I was now. It wasn't scary here, but it was ... joyless, or something, dreary, disgusting, but not scary. There was no mysticism or horror. The fear is gone. I went to my work table. The calendar from the door has migrated here. A vinyl record, a magazine with a painfully familiar portrait on the cover - all these things from the past reminded me of what I had forgotten. I reached out for the magazine. And then I heard a voice inside myself, "It's impossible!"
Can't, can'tI! I had to leave! I turned around to leave, but suddenly I saw an object that should not be here! A pink, knitted baby bootie lay on the windowsill. The fear of disobedience is gone! I took a bootie. And looked back. I heard a scream, someone formidable tried to warn, but did not have time. Taking a bootie, I left the office. The door closed behind me forever. The fear has gone away. I remembered everything! Everything became routine. I went to the exit of the room. The early morning light hit my eyes. It was hot outside, summer! The birds sang, the leaves rustled. They were waiting for me at home. My husband had prepared breakfast for me a long time ago and patiently waited, looking out the window. The garden outside the window was noisy with foliage, and my husband thought about not missing the moment when my red sundress flickered among the foliage and I entered the doors of our big house. Remembering that they were waiting for me, I hurried, took an awkward step and stumbled over the step of a long, wooden staircase. In the next minute...
“Wake up already,” I heard an unhappy voice, “stop sleeping!”
I opened my eyes. The shaman bent over me and extended her hand
-Let's!
-What?
- Boote, come on!
-What? What are you talking about?
-O! Have you already forgotten what you took without asking? Unclench your fist!
I sat down. The pile of rags smelled sharply and not pleasantly. The hand went numb. Opening my hand with difficulty, I saw a really booty. But the bootie was so tiny! Such booties will not fit even on a newborn baby. It must have been doll shoes.
- Is it for a doll? I asked
-Never mind! Come here!
-Not! What do you want to do with booties? Destroy?
- I'll put it behind the glass.
-What will you do?
- I have a museum. I collect stuff from dreams there. Well done, you didn't listen to me! But she seemed so submissive! This booty... However, you don't need to know more!
Now you will be fine! And even more than good! This bootie is very expensive and the goddess of dreams, in order to return the booty to sleep again, will pay you so much that you did not expect! For now...
-Yes?
-You can go. There, at the exit of the ticket office, if you remember. Go to the manager and pay the penalty!
-Yes, why? I paid you everything in advance. Small change, as you requested.
- A trifle is your tears! Everyone who gave you this trifle paid off from trouble and tears!
“Then what do I have to pay for?”
-It's a penalty. You broke the contract. I warned that nothing can be brought from sleep. Now you will be rewarded, and I will... be punished. Therefore ... In general, the manager's desk and the cash register are to the left of the front door!
-But...
-Go away and don't come back! Next!
PHANTOM
For good or for bad?
This story happened a long time ago. I lived and live now in the city of Vladivostok, and then I was impatient to go to enter one of the universities in the city of Khabarovsk. Relatives and friends dissuaded me, their main argument was that there are no less universities in Vladivostok than in Khabarovsk, and I'm going to enter a strange city where there are no relatives or friends!
  Now, after many years, I also think that I was somehow strange. It was necessary to look for a suitable university right here, in your beloved city, but youth, that is why it is called youth, because youth is the time when all your actions are dictated not by reason, but by emotions and desires.
In the universities of the city of Vladivostok, there was no training for the profession that I needed. I wanted to be a holiday director.
In Vladivostok, there was one creative university, which was then called the Institute of Arts, now it is called the Academy of Arts. The Institute of Arts had an acting department, but there was no department for directing holidays.
So I went to Khabarovsk. The hostel was not provided for the duration of the exams. And I rented a room near the Institute of Culture from some grandmother. Together with her grandmother lived her grandson, who had only recently returned from the army. The apartment had two rooms.
I occupied one, the second - a grandmother with her grandson.
  Literature was the first exam. Only applicants who passed the literature were allowed to take the creative exam. I got a B on my Literature exam. I knew Russian and Soviet literature quite well, and therefore I tried to help everyone with writing an essay. Silent requests for help rushed from right and left, I wrote tips and passed them on to those who were suffering, as a result, I barely had time to finish my essay. Only after 3 days I found out that I got a B, but at the moment when I left the exam, I was very unhappy with myself and was afraid that I got only 3 points for my essay.
It was raining, and I was walking under an umbrella and crying.
  With three points, I would not have been admitted to the creative competition.
  I understand that the introduction turned out to be too long, but please be patient, now the interesting thing will begin. Returning home, or rather to the apartment, which was now my temporary home, I burst into tears even more, then I looked out the window, where there was only rain and puddles, then I spread the cards and tried to understand with the help of solitaire whether I passed the exam or not.
  I had not signed up for the library yet, there was nothing to read, my nose was swollen and my head ached, and therefore I, although it was only9 p.m., went to bed.
Before going to bed, I turned off the volume lever on the radio, and also propped up the door with my slippers so that it would not close. I was afraid to be alone in the room. In the hallway, which connected my room and the room where my grandmother and grandson were, it was light, the light was on.
Grandmother and grandson were still awake, I heard their voices. I checked again the volume lever on the radio, which was blaring like crazy in the morning, went to bed and fell asleep.
I woke up from the feeling that I was not alone in the room, opening my eyes I saw that a very tall and thin man was leaning over me. He slowly leaned towards me lower and lower. Finally I came out of my stupor and squealed.
Confused in my nightgown, I rushed to the door. The one who was leaning over me slowly walked ahead of me and passed through the closed door. Yes, yes, the door that I so carefully propped up with slippers before going to bed turned out to be closed.
I ran out into the hallway and screamed.
  Grandmother and grandson jumped out of the next room. It is in this sequence, grandmother, and then her adult grandson.
This is in case anyone has an assumption that my grandson has been in the room in the form of a phantom.
  And the person who was leaning over me disappeared. Glancing at the clock that hung in the hallway, I was surprised to see that I slept for only an hour and a half.
  The slippers with which I propped up the door, I later found neatly placed near my bed. The grandson ran around the whole apartment, but did not find anyone else. My grandmother gave me some valerian, and I went back to sleep. At 6:00 in the morning I was awakened by the radio, which I so carefully turned off in the evening. The anthem sounded cheerfully.
  So many years have passed, but I still do not understand what it was, what happened then?
  A few days later, I found out that I got a B for the exam and was admitted to the first creative exam.
  Then later, when all the exams were over and I got to know the guys with whom I then studied for 4 years, I told them this story. One of my new girlfriends was so impressed that she wondered with me for a long time about what really happened, and my second new girlfriend said that I had done a big stupid thing, I had to ask the phantom if a ghostly person came to good or badly.
That's how I should have asked, but I didn't guess! And how can you guess how to behave in such a situation ?! I was upset. I was cold and sad in a strange city, far from my father and mother, in a strange apartment, in a world where it was raining outside a strange window.
And with you, dear readers, have similar stories happened?
THE MOTHER OF GOD CRYED
We have witnessed a miracle.
The Virgin Mary wept.
The statue of the Virgin Mary stood in the park near the old wooden church. The statue was as old as the church itself. In the spring, parishioners, grandmothers and women in white headscarves, refurbished the statue, painted eyes on her and the holy baby, updated the pattern on the robe of St. Mary. That is, there was no secret in the statue at all. The statue was made by a local craftsman, now an old grandfather named Ivan. In general, a small town that stood by a large river was inhabited mainly by elderly people. The climate here was good and people lived long. There were also young people, but they were few. The youth had excellent health and the climate did not play a big role in choosing a place to live.
So, back to the statue. As I said, the statue stood in the park not so long ago, some thirty or thirty-five years. Exactly as much as the years of the local church. And even the creator of the statue was still alive. Do you understand what I'm leading to? I'm talking about the fact that there were no secrets in the statue at all! But... But nevertheless, the statue was streaming myrrh. The fact that the statue was crying was not immediately noticed.
Little girl Masha was walking with her mother in the park. A few meters from the church there was a playground. The rector of the church was always touched when he saw dark and light heads in the distance and heard children's voices. So, the girl Masha walked with her mother to the site, their path lay past the statue of the Virgin Mary.
Masha's mother was thinking about something and did not notice the miracle that happened to the statue, but Masha saw it.
“Mom,” Masha screamed, pointing to the statue, “aunt is crying!” Why?
Mom did not respond, she just mechanically nodded and continued to think about something.
However, Masha was not the kind of child who gives up easily.
The girl Masha did not like when her words were ignored.
By this time, mother and daughter had already passed the statue.
Having not received an answer to the question, Masha pulled her hand out of her mother's hand and, after taking a few steps, stood in front of her mother.
- What? - Mom looked at her daughter in surprise, - what kind of aunt?
-And that one over there! -Masha vigorously shook her hand and pointed to the statue of the Virgin Mary, which they passed.
- Masha, - the girl's mother turned around, - this is not an aunt, this is the Virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ. She cannot cry, she is not alive, she is a statue!
“Not a living aunt-statue is crying,” Masha confirmed vigorously, “do you want to show me?”
“Masha, no,” the woman said, trying to shake off her daughter’s hand, who again took her mother’s hand and pulled her along, “we’re late!” We agreed that you will stay on the site for a long time.Ten minutes more and then we'll go to English class.
-But the aunt is crying, - the daughter was stubborn, - you yourself said that you need to help those who are crying! Is not it so?
This argument convinced mother Masha and she reluctantly turned back.
Approaching the statue, the woman could not believe her eyes. The statue was really crying. Tears from painted eyes flowed continuously.
The shocked woman walked around the statue from all sides, trying to find a catch, but the creation of the old grandfather Ivan was not subjected, as Masha's mother suspected, to any changes and upgrades.
While mom was trying to find a catch, the daughter went up to a trickle of water that slowly flowed from the eyes of the statue and put her hands on it. The water accumulated in the center of the small hands not very quickly, but by the time the mother finally walked around the statue, the girl had a small lake in her hands. The girl drank this water in several sips and smiled.
“Mom, the taste of tears resemble fruit drinks, try it too,” and the little girl held out her hand, at the bottom, which left a few drops from the tears of the Virgin.
- What are you doing? - Masha's mother screamed in horror, - spit it out now!
- Aunt-statue, thank you, - Masha stroked the statue of the Virgin on the hand, - I was very thirsty! Now I don't want to! Aunt, don't cry anymore! I feel so sorry for you! Won't you cry? - Masha trustingly clung to the base of the statue, - tomorrow my mother and I will come to the site again, I will check if you have calmed down! It is harmful to cry for a long time, your nose swells up and your head hurts! Do not Cry!
Masha spoke the last words in a patter as her mother pulled her away.
In the evening, Masha's mother chatted with her friend on the phone for a long time and, among other things, told about the statue and about the trick with water from the eyes. Masha's mother could understand who and why staged this prank.
The rumor about the myrrh-streaming statue spread quickly. A week later, Masha and her mother again came to the site and saw a strange picture. People lined up in front of the statue with jars and buckets. The statue became hard to see due to the large number of people surrounding it. Tears from the eyes of the Virgin flowed slowly, yet it was not water from the tap, the water filled the buckets drop by drop and the line was worried. The most responsible women regulated the queue and finally delivered a verdict, to approach the statue with a capacity no larger than a small water bottle. After that, things went faster, but still not fast enough. The bottles filled too slowly. Then new restrictions were introduced, the bottles were replaced with mugs, and even then, the mug had to be only half filled. Those who wanted a full mug had to stand at the end of the line again.
People walked and walked and there was no end to the land. Masha's mother felt unconscious anxiety and even guilt. It was she who told her friend that after Masha drank water, her allergy went away, moreover, Masha stopped choking and the inhaler was no longer needed. Asthma is gone. Probably, the news about the cured girl made people believe that the tears of the Virgin have healing properties. Masha's mother didn't know if tears helped someone else in the city or not. She was happy that her child was healthy and nothing else bothered her. When another week passed, mother and Masha again came to the site, but the usual landscape was disturbed. The Mother of God was not there. Someone stole the statue. Someone impatient did not want to wait for their turn and simply took the statue away, driving a truck. Masha knew who did it, or rather, her fingers knew who drew a picture with a truck. There was even a truck number on the picture. However, when Masha showed the drawing to her mother, mother, as always, did not peer, but only praised Masha. It was important for mom that her daughter was healthy, and everything else was not important. The alarmed residents of the city for some time hoped for the conscience of the kidnapper and expected that he would return the statue to its place when he filled his buckets with her tears, but time passed, and no one returned the statue. Finally, the rector turned to grandfather Ivan with a request to make a new Mother of God. People supported the request and even promised to form the whole world and thank grandfather Ivan with money. However, grandfather Ivan refused, he said that his eyesight was no longer the same, and he was afraid of not being able to cope with such a responsible task. The more he was persuaded, the more he resisted. Finally, the townspeople realized that the will of grandfather Ivan was firm and left him alone. The abbot ordered a statue from some company that had long ago put the manufacture of utensils and statues of religious content on stream. When the new statue was brought in, the townspeople came with buckets. For some reason, people decided that the new statue would also stream myrrh. The statue, unlike the statue of grandfather Ivan, was brand new and solemnly beautiful. The bright face of the Virgin and the baby in her arms evoked blissful feelings, but the statue, of course, did not stream myrrh. Soon the disappointed crowd left the heels next to the church. Everything is back to normal.
Ten years have passed. One day a little boy came up to the statue and asked:
- Aunt, isn't it hard for you to hold the baby?
My mom told me not to hang on it when I walk because I'm heavy! Mom says I'm fat because I eat a lot, but I think I'mfat, because no one plays with me and everyone teases me! It's hard for me to walk, but my mother never picks me up! Aunt, don't cry, I will grow up and become thin and tall, please don't cry like that! Come on, I'll wipe your tears from your clothes, otherwise they will ruin your beautiful dress!

The boy's mother did not tell anyone that after talking with the statue, the boy stopped walking like a lunatic at night, and his weight soon returned to normal, but somehow the townspeople found out that this statue began to stream myrrh. This time, guards were put up to the statue and even fenced off with a small fence, but nothing helped, a week later this Mother of God was also stolen.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners!" - I just want to say, thinking about this story, where the virtues and vices of mankind are mixed.
Do you think the new statue ordered by the abbot will also be just as wonderful?

  And I believe that when the time comes, the Mother of God will help the next child, who will trustfully turn to her and stretch out her hands.
BARS OF GOLD
This house has 999 rooms. Each time, walking through the rooms, I somehow found my way to the main hall, behind which there was an exit from the house, but today I can’t. Time goes by, I go, we go with portraits. Only I go forward, and the portraits move backward, and then they lag behind completely.
What's in the portraits? Yes, all sorts of crap. Shepherds, lambs, ruins, mature beauties, handsome old men. Warriors on horseback, gondoliers with oars. Mud blue! Although ... Probably worth this dregs decently! However, I cannot verify this fact, the portraits hang high, and my height is too small, only 155 cm. And there is no one to help me. It's just me, rooms and portraits.
  Fearfully? But not very. The torches squeezed into their stands crackle but do not go out, and the doors of the rooms stand open. At the beginning of the journey, I was curious, looked into every room, now I'm tired. The rooms are similar, but there are no windows in them. The windows are painted, but the rooms are bright. The hole in the ceiling looks like a big gap. Light falls through it. It's snowing outside now. Snowflakes fall and fall. The gap is located above the bed and therefore the snow covered the bed with a snow blanket. Every room is like this. The windows are painted, the bed is covered in snow, and there is a gap in the ceiling. I want to go outside, where the snow is, where the air is, and Christmas Eve, but I can't find my way to the wedding hall. Behind him is the exit from the house. I can not!
  There is also a room for women in labor, but it is at the end, behind room 998. How do I know? The electronic guide that accompanies me from the very beginning of the journey screams in the headphones in a mechanical voice. The guide tells the story of each room, I want to remove the headphones, but the lock snapped when I was in the wedding hall. I suspect that the lock will only open in room 999.
Oh basement! I want to go there. The guide yells even louder, promising punishment if I turn off the path. Yes, shut up already! I will not listen to you! Oh, bliss, it is, shut up! The basement stands aside from the main excursion corridor and the guide fell silent. Bravo! The basement is not locked! Getting in. Click! The door closed behind me, I beat my body, trying to open it! Figushki! You should have listened to the guide! Something is gurgling in the headphones! Then everything subsides. I'm going deeper into the basement. There are no torches here, but there are windows almost flush with the floor. Apparently bad. Everything is grey. No, there is no blackness, but it is not clearly visible.
The guide comes to life, but starts asking questions in English. He asks how I am doing, am I married, do I have children? I don't understand English well, but I understood these questions. I mumble "I don't understand", translated into Russian it means like "My don't understand yours!" and the guide hissed silently. Jokes aside, but how do I get out of here?
Tired. I sit on the floor, rummage around me, trying to find some stone or something heavy. Happened! The hand touched something heavy. I'm trying to break the window, but it doesn't work. There is no way to swing. I go to another window, or rather crawl. Tired! There is a slightly different angle of inclination here, and therefore it became possible to swing. I break the window on the third try. A stone, or whatever came to my hand, flies out the window. I try to follow the rock, and it seems to work, but the widest part of the body suddenly gets stuck!
  Here is the incident! I remember that there is no one to help me and I start laughing, because I imagined that in a century archaeologists would find my skeleton stuck in the window, and then I start crying! Then I remember about Winnie the Pooh, who ate too much and got stuck in the rabbit hole, and I start laughing again. While I was laughing, I apparently lost weight, because after making a jerk, I still get out. The knees and elbows were torn off, the wide part of the body also suffered. The clothes were torn. But I don't care. Hooray, I'm outside!
  I look back, figs to you! Unfortunately, I'm not on the street. I am in a glass greenhouse. the electronic guide perks up and starts very quickly, apparently afraid of being interrupted, to tell the story of the greenhouse. I am frustrated and frustrated. Where is my freedom? The greenhouse is round, and for some reason there is no way out of it. Everything is covered with cobwebs, the trees and bushes are dead, the statues are under a layer of dirt. In general, there is no interest here. Tired of aimless walking in circles,I decide to go back through the basement window. Winnie the Pooh's window, as I called it, glistens with shards of glass. Near the fragments lies something yellow, shiny, weighty. Yeah, that's what I broke the glass with. Upon closer inspection, the yellow thing turns out to be a bar of gold.
  Whoops! My mood suddenly improves! Taking the ingot, I again climb into the basement window. Changes in body position entail changes in the status of the electronic guide. To put it simply, the guide starts asking me questions again, but this time the language spoken by the guide is not familiar to me. Probably Chinese or Korean. The basement is very dark. Probably, it seems to me after I visited the greenhouse. But fortunately, the basement windows give at least some light. I have a goal, I'm trying to find more gold bars.
  I can do it! Near each basement window lies one ingot of gold. I had a grocery bag in my pocket. The package is gradually filled with ingots, and then it simply breaks. Ingots are inconvenient to carry in hands. Moving forward, I gradually get rid of the ingots that I so recklessly collected.
I now have only two ingots in my hands. One for each hand. I stop, there is a door in front of me. I raise my hand to open it just as the clasp clicks and the headphones fall down to my feet. The electronic guide gurgles some instructions to me in the end, I, as always, do not want to listen to him. My hands are busy with ingots, so I open the door with my foot. The door is not even going to resist, and opens with one touch.
  Darkness is replaced by harsh light. What was it? And it was a dream. Angry at those who woke me up! Trying to get myself to sleep again. But I understand that it is useless. The only good news is that in the hands there is an immense heaviness. Bars, my bars of gold! I remember that there were only two of them left, the rest had to be disposed of! Well, two is a lot too, isn't it?
  However, when I pull my hands out from under the blanket, I find that there is nothing in my hands. The palms are cramped, as if they are holding something heavy and voluminous, but the fact remains, my hands are empty!
  White light hits the eyes. It's early morning now, but it's bright outside. It's snowing. Everything is white, light and bright. Christmas! Celebration! Lots of air, light and snow. Great! After admiring the morning and the snow, I felt sad.
And where are my ingots now? They probably lie on the floor in front of the basement door.
CAT GODDESS
The owner left for good, well, okay. However, the cat suffered for real.
The Cat Goddess, the figurine that was standing on the bedside table and smiling senselessly, suddenly blinked.
The goddess stretched and bared her teeth.
But the cat didn't care, he thought about the owner.
Curving gracefully, the goddess of cats jumped down from the bedside table, slowly approached the cat and lifted her tail.
The tail was soft and the hairs shone red.
The tail swayed slightly, and a scent drifted through the abandoned room.
The cat was startled. However, the thought that his master had deserted him still weighed heavily on him.
The goddess of cats meowed inquiringly,
Oh, it wasn't! The cat meowed back!
Yes, who is this owner anyway?
Just a man who, after work, stroked the cat, fed and washed the cat's pot.
Gone? Well... And let it go!
Let him leave for good and never come back!
Because now the cat has another love!
The cat found his cat!
And now they...
The cat sniffed! The smell is gone!
Gone like it never existed!
The cat is gone too! She was nowhere!
The cat went around the whole apartment. There was no cat!
Finally, he returned to where it all began, and ... it ended right there!
The figurine of the goddess of cats was in place.
Painted whiskers bristled, and the tail curled around the cat's legs.
The cat was offended, two losses in less than an hour is already too much!
Flying up onto the bedside table, he pushed the figurine.
For a while, the porcelain goddess of cats still stood still, and then fell, and ... broke!
However, the cat didn't care. The owner left the window open before leaving.
Jumping onto the windowsill, the cat looked back.
It seemed to him that the porcelain eye of a broken cat winked at him!
The next minute the cat was already outside.
He correctly understood the prompt of the cat goddess!
The cat went to look for his cat!
A real cat, live, the one that will become a goddess for him!
BESSARABIA - THE MOTHERLAND OF MY CHILDHOOD
As a child, after watching films about the war, I fell asleep with relief that there would never be another war. I trusted that fair adults would make sure this never happened again. But trouble came eight years ago. Eight years ago, the Nazis captured Ukraine and the homeland of my childhood, Bessarabia. And again, our army, as in 1945, became a liberator army. All repeats. Only this time the war lasted eight years. I am proud that I am Russian and I live on the territory of a great country, which for so many centuries no one can bring to its knees, although they try over and over again. We didn't start this war. I am surprised by something else, why those who want war with us do not want to think about the fact that all this has already happened in history. Why does no one think about the past? How many armies came toour land and where are they? Everyone ran with their tail between their legs. The remnants of the armies were finished off by partisans and severe frosts. Isn't it clear that Russia is a country that never gives up? For many centuries, Russia and Ukraine have been a single entity. No matter what anyone says, I continue to perceive it that way. There were fifteen republics that were one house. Strangers, I mean overseas invaders, broke into our house, divided the house into two halves and ordered us not to go to the half where our relatives live anymore. Year after year, they inspired the inhabitants of the occupied country that we were bad, and those who did not believe were simply sentenced to death. That's all. The rest is just talk and bells and whistles about the situation. I cannot rejoice now, because those who are of the same blood with us are suffering. But I can’t be silent either, because my heart hurts. This is my opinion and I do not impose it on anyone, but one cannot remain silent. I believe that everyone should decide which side he is on. I'm worried about my relatives who now live where the hostilities unfolded, I'm worried if they have food, are they and their little children safe?
MANTLE
A dream I had in June.
10 minutes sleep.
  I see a ghost that sees people. She lives among other ghosts in the city of Dark vibrations, and sees people. She hides this feature from other ghosts, because if someone finds out about this feature of hers, then she will have to go to another job, to another level, where there is almost no memory of the past.
15 minutes sleep.
I learn that the ghost occupies a high position, she works in the department of souls. Responsible for ensuring that there is a balance on the earth. For ten good souls that newborns will receive, one soul is dark, evil. True, these features will appear in babies only when they grow up.
10 minutes sleep.
The duties of a ghost include patrolling the world of people. Once a week, ghosts from the Department of Souls are forced to take the form of people. The employees of the ghost department are very dissatisfied with such work. After each patrol day, the desk of the head of the department is littered with reports and reports. But the chief cannot do anything, such is the order from above.
2 minutes sleep.
I see patrol workers. Department workers bring a sealed coin from the patrol. From now on, runaway evil spirits who wanted to stay in the world of people will languish in the coin.

15 minutes sleep.
Our heroine differs from her colleagues in that she sees not just souls, but people within whom these living souls live. She sees people completely, as beings with flesh and blood. This vision is missing from her colleagues from the department. Colleagues see only souls, and even then not everything, but only runaway souls, the souls of dead people who did not leave the earth after death. Living people, employees of the department of dark vibrations, are not interested.
1 minute sleep.
The mantle, that is the name of our heroine, also did not differ from her colleagues three weeks earlier, until one extraordinary incident occurred.
20 minutes sleep.
In addition to the Department of Dark vibrations, there is also a Department of Light vibrations. The ghosts who work there must make sure that the souls of good people leave the world of the living on time. For such souls, a special bathhouse has been built, with separate rooms, where souls can be cleansed of the past life and go to meet the future. However, the employees of the light and dark departments do not like each other, too many complaints have accumulated over the centuries of work. Sometimes a dispute between departments could only be resolved by Perun, the god of lightning. Perun is the last resort, after his decision, the disputes ceased, but the annoyance remained.
30 minutes sleep.
For the employees of the Department of Dark Vibrations, the whole earth is like a flat plateau. They do not see the borders dividing the countries, they do not see living people, their job is to track the dark vibrations that emit evil souls that linger on earth. Every morning in the Department of Dark Vibrations starts the same way. Department employees gather in a huge conference room, computers are already connected. As soon as the light goes out, a map of the Earth appears on the screen, red dots flashing here and there, these are the dark souls lost in the earthly world. The employees of the Department of Dark Vibrations were once people too. These people have remained in the history of generations as people who have done the greatest good for the inhabitants of the earth. Therefore, after death, their souls, instead of being reborn, were left to work in the Department of Dark Vibrations. In the opposite department, in the department of Light vibrations, people worked who proved themselves during their lifetime as desperate villains. There were commanders who destroyed country after country during their lifetime. This is just one example of those who worked in the Department of Light vibrations.
That's how it was with these two departments.
9 minutes sleep.
The morning for the employees of the department of light vibrations began the same way as for the employees of the department of dark vibrations. The light vibration department's conference room was the twin brother of the dark vibration department. There was the same interactive map, there were the samestate-of-the-art computers to trace lost souls.
15 minutes sleep.
  Mantia has been working in the Department of Dark Vibrations for the third century. She liked her work. Sometimes this work was quite monotonous, but it was satisfying. The employees of the Department of Dark Vibrations knew very well and kept track of time, they knew exactly how long they were working in this department. In a week it would have been 300 years since the Mantle started working in the dark vibrations department. She knew that her colleagues and subordinates were preparing a big celebration. However, there was nothing new in this, every 100 years, the work in the department was celebrated very magnificently and on a large scale.
11 minutes sleep.
And it had to happen that right now, at the moment when the Mantle was supposed to turn 300 years old, she began to see not only the souls of people, but also their bodies. Once she got to the city where the usual daily life of the inhabitants of the planet Earth was conducted.
3 hours and 55 minutes of sleep.
And this is how it happened:
Mantle had a dream. In fact, it was not customary to talk about this in the Department of Dark Vibrations, but the ghosts also had dreams. These were echoes of their past life or foresight of the future. In general, everything is like with people.
The dream was like this: Mantia dreamed that she was a little girl, she was calmly walking along an ordinary city road. The road turns to the right. The girl sees adult men, they peacefully talk about something. The men are about to disperse in different directions, and the Mantle walks in the direction of one of the men. Suddenly, at the moment when the Mantle almost caught up with the man, he took off his white jacket, which he had previously hung on a tree branch, and gave this jacket to the girl. The mantle took the jacket as if nothing had happened, it happens in a dream, and, without stopping, moved on.
The man who gave the jacket probably left shortly after, but the second man, who had spoken to the first man earlier, suddenly went berserk. He pulled out a submachine gun from under his jacket and started shooting at the girl. The girl ran with all her might, she felt the heat from the bullets that flew past in a whirlwind, but for some reason the white jacket protected the girl, the girl ran forward, and the pursuer caught up with her. The cloak ran into the midst of the children. A group from the kindergarten, led by a teacher, at that moment went for a walk, turmoil, screams and tears began. The teacher tried to cover the children with her body, there were too many children, they cried and tried to run in different directions. How the story with the children ended, Mantia did not know.
Unfortunately, she had to be rescued. In front of her was a door to an ordinary apartment building. The house was old, there were many nooks and crannies, sudden voids, ups and downs, and absolutely illogical descents. The cloak ran up the stairs, and the sound of machine-gun fire suddenly pierced the emptiness of the entrance. Mantia fled with all his strength, running to the fourth floor, she saw corridors on both sides. Without thinking, she rushed into the left corridor. She clearly heard where the pursuer was running, because the man fired from a machine gun. Despite the panic, Mantle tried to find her way down. And it succeeded. When she was already on the second floor, she suddenly saw a small window that was under the stairs. The window did not lead to the street. It was an inner window. It was so small that even a girl squeezed her way into it with difficulty. After she climbed through the window, she fell on something hard. It was very dark. The mantle fell into a dark room. But she wasn't scared. Curling into a ball, she rubbed the place of impact, then plugged her ears and instantly fell into a half-asleep half-consciousness.
When Mantle awoke, she could have sworn that her heart was beating wildly, although she knew very well that ghosts do not have a heart. The dream was terrible. Remembering the events of the dream, Mantle was relieved that she was not a human, but a ghost. However, after this dream, she began to see people in the flesh, and not just their souls.

I draw a conclusion for myself: if you don’t want to see any nonsense in a dream, go to bed on time.
ARSENIEV
   This year has been declared the year of the writer V. K. Arseniev.
Together with the group, I went from Vladivostok to the city of Arsenyev to follow the route followed by V. K. Arsenyev and Dersu Uzala, and also to visit the places where Akira Kurosawa's film "Dersu Uzala" was filmed. Everything was great, right up to the moment we climbed up the mountain. The route to the "Obzornaya" hill was carefully thought out, the nature was fabulous, but the climb was beyond my strength. It was very slippery and the snow was loose knee-deep, if I had been in boots, in which I actually arrived, then everything would have gone perfectly. But you can’t go to the mountains in heels, but I couldn’t tell everyone that I was falling back in boots without heels. And that heels are not a whim, not a tribute to fashion, it’s just that my legs cannot walk in shoes without heels. The boots they gave me for climbing up the mountain were fabulous, warm and high, but ... without heels, with flat soles. Well, the organizers gave me boots without heels, boards for sitting in the snow, sticks. Other people's boots slipped so that the sticks did not help. VpIn other words, it was my own fault that I went on a trip without special shoes. There were three Cossacks per group. One Cossack led me on the way up, and all three were with me on the way back. The group left a long time ago, but I kept crawling, I couldn’t breathe, my hands hurt from the sticks, so I gave the sticks to one Cossack, and the second just pulled my hands, the third scouted the way so that I wouldn’t fall. In general, of course, I was like a princess, but I was ashamed that all three Cossacks who were allocated to the group were now with me. Two boys are 16 years old, the third is forty. The end of the path passed like in a fairy tale, I stopped after two or three minutes of walking, because I could not breathe. Finally, we went to the site where a jeep brought us four hours ago. The jeep was not in place and we went to meet him, the road was straight, I cheered up, and then, bam, I slipped. The boots got theirs already towards the end. I shook my head. The vanity, my tears, finally lifted me up and a jeep drove up. I shouldn't have worried about holding up the group. When we drove down and drove up to the Cossack base, people from the group drank moonshine and danced.
At the base, the organizers took off my soaking wet jacket, gloves, hat, hung all this over a real Russian stove, which was so hot that I felt bliss, and allowed me to return my boots. They brought a doctor. I said everything is fine. The people drank moonshine and sang, everyone kissed and fraternized. Everyone was so cheerful and relaxed that I also felt good, albeit from afar. I didn’t have the strength to join the fun, besides, I was afraid to move far from the stove, I still had chills. After an hour and a half, we got on the bus, drove off, and then the watch on my hand began to make unusual sounds, I looked, there was a red screen on the watch, my pulse was critically increased. I was scared, but what could I do? It was out of the question to tell the leaders that I was unwell and scare them. I began to breathe deeply, as if the pulse had dropped. At home, of course, I said that everything was fine.
It was time for bed and then I realized that I couldn't lay down on a pillow, the lateral muscles of my neck were stretched as my head fell back from the impact on the ice. Well, in the morning my whole body hurt, now the problem is only in the muscles of the neck, I tried to lie down during the day, I can’t, it hurts a lot. Of course, I was misled, the path that was promised to be only 2 kilometers was not like that. However, it probably would have been so in a straight line, but we climbed through loose snow, along a snowy, sometimes narrow path, which then led steeply upwards, and then fell off, which is probably why it seemed to me that everything was much longer. I'm not a sissy, at home I walk much longer distances than two kilometers, but it's in a straight line. If I had known what the path to the Obzornaya hill would be like, I would not have agreed to the trip, well, what's done is done, but I followed the path that Arseniev and Dersu Uzala followed.
HARBIN.MAY
Harbin
This was a few years ago, before Covid.
Went with a friend, his name is *.
1.05
We left the house early, because * it seemed that some important bump had arrived and therefore blocked the traffic, and this was just preparation for the holiday. At eight ten in the morning we were already in the building of the bus station, at eight thirty we went to the registration. After registration, we moved to the waiting room, but in order to enter it, you had to take off your shoes and jacket, *, as always, could not resist his jokes, the woman sitting at the monitor was offended. We didn't sit in the waiting room for very long. The announcer announced something very unintelligible over the speakerphone, and I guessed that it was an invitation to board. The attendant confirmed my idea and added that only passengers flying on the Vladivostok-Harbin flight were waiting for boarding in the waiting room. We got good seats, by the window. The flight attendants handed out headphones. There was a movie on TV, but the headphones did not help, nothing could be heard. Compared to last year, the flight lasted indefinitely, although the travel time was only one hour and ten minutes. Most likely, it seemed so to me. A magazine was sticking out of the seat pocket, I took it out, there were letters from Elizabeth Price, an article about Vera Komissarzhevskaya and her tour in Vladivostok, and an article about the poet Arseny Nesmelov. When we got off the plane, a warm wind blew into my face. The wind was very strong, how else did they manage to land the plane? The airfield was deserted, like in Stephen King's Langoliers. We ended up in a group in which there were either 11 or 19 people. While we were standing in line, a customs officer, naturally Chinese, came up and, sticking his nose into the list, ran through it and asked something from a woman standing in front of me with lists. She pointed to an elderly woman who was driving with her elderly daughter. Thinking quickly, the customs officer ordered the woman to get up to another window. Thus, care must have been taken. I have seen many times how respectfully and lovingly the Chinese treat their elderly people. The woman in line was lucky, today this love has spread to her. She and those who stood behind her, the customs officer led to a friendat the window We were in the third. A woman who was flying with us on a plane, but was not from our group, trembled her hand and she dropped a bag of alcohol. A pungent odor pervaded the hall. I feel sorry for the woman, alcohol, no. Those meeting, from the travel agency Summer Garden, were already waiting for us. We were met by a rather tall Chinese man who introduced himself as Yura. A Chinese woman Amelia was standing nearby, she was meeting someone else. Since I saw Amelia already a year ago, I asked Yura if it was really her. It was Amelia, only thinner. Since she hardly remembered me, I approached her. I didn't see any joy on her face. They are like that, Chinese travel organizers, while you are there and pay money, you are the best friend, but time passes ... In short, the saying, out of sight out of mind, was also true in this situation. They parted with a smile. A minibus with Yura's assistant, Volodya, was waiting for us. We drove insanely long, longer than the time we spent in the air. There were no such traffic jams in Harbin in previous years. It was stuffy and my head hurt. Finally, the Sungari embankment appeared. Phew, almost home! We've arrived! Probably, the Chinese also had some kind of holiday. Despite the stream of persuasion from Yura's assistant, who bore the rare Russian name Volodya, we remained unshakable. Volodya promised free transport, almost free excursions, of course, to those places where Chinese guides like to take so much, a pearl factory, a tea ceremony, etc. But this year there is something new. As Volodya proudly said, a new porcelain factory has opened. A Chinese man married a Russian. Russian headed the porcelain factory. Volodya was already suffocated with delight, reporting this information, but for some reason, @ and I are not. Barely fighting off the obsessive Chinese, we finally moved to eat. What it is, breakfast or lunch, I don’t presume to judge, if we count according to our time, then ... No, it’s probably better to count according to ... In general, it doesn’t matter. In the Katyusha restaurant, which was around the corner of the hotel, the food was delicious, but for some reason, a portion of cutlets consisted of three pieces. Even though we were hungry, half of what we ordered was left on the table. It was tasty but too much. The restaurant was run by Kazakh women. The cook's name was Katya, and the restaurant was named after her. Women settled in Harbin a long time ago, they spoke Chinese fluently, in any case, they freely explained the features of the menu to the Chinese family that came after us. No, I'm confused, it was on the third day. We then went not to have lunch, but to have supper. On the first day, our neighbors in the restaurant turned out to be smoking compatriots, so we left the restaurant pretty quickly. Nicotine, as an additive to headaches and fatigue from the flight, was clearly too much. The restaurant was quite popular, I judge by the fact that a nice woman serving our table gave us a business card and advised us to call before going to dinner with them. It happens that people come, but there are no places in the restaurant. And three years ago, when we were only in Harbin for the first time and lived in a hotel near the Churin store, the taxi driver, to whom we showed this restaurant on the map, could not find it, dropped us off in the middle of the Arbat and was like that. In fact, the Arbat is a famous pedestrian street, it has its official name "Central", and the name Arbat, this is the Russian people, the tourists, as I understand it, came up with. To say that it was black from people on the embankment means to say nothing. * began to whine that he did not like such a crowd of people, but I felt good. I felt like a fish in water. Favorite smells and fuss. We rested for almost the whole day. But this did not lead to anything good, a quarrel was brewing inevitably. If there is a crack in the glass, then no matter how carefully you treat it, it will still break. At six o'clock in the evening we decided to walk along the Arbat. The path passed with groans, complaints and unflattering comments towards the crowds of people. Fun was in full swing. Artists painted passers-by, onlookers crowded around the easels and discussed every stroke of the painters. Near the window of one of the shops, the crowd was especially dense. Uncovering my camera, I ran into the crowd. *stayed behind, shifting from foot to foot. Without even trying to protest, the Chinese obediently parted in front of me. Three tall Chinese women demonstrated wedding dresses in the shop window, it was probably hard for the poor girls to stand motionless for hours, imitating mannequins. The merry crowd poked their fingers and uttered exclamations. The first girl's face was motionless, the second smiled, the third had an irritated grimace on her face. The crowd stood there, making no attempt to move further, and I had no time, I had only four days. No, three and a half already. The first day was already drawing to a close. Eagerly looking for new experiences, I moved on almost at a run. My shoes were old lady's, without heels, I felt uncomfortable in them, but they allowed me to walk and walk without fear of rubbing my feet. * trailed behind and portrayed a martyr. The next crowd of people just as easily lost ground, hastily parting in front of the crazy Russian with a camera. That is in front of me. Ma young man, dressed in women's national clothes and smeared with tons of makeup, looked so much like a girl that it would not have occurred to me to think of him that he was a representative of a different sex if he did not speak in a male voice. Unfortunately, I have already come to the end of his performance, and therefore it remains a mystery to me in what genre he performed, sang a Chinese opera or entertained the audience with something humorous. With a sigh of regret, I made my way out of the crowd. I wanted to go on and on, enjoy the warm, almost hot weather, observe the abundance and variety of crowds flowing to the Songhua embankment, absorb their speech, colors of clothes, smiles, festive excitement. But * finally got a pain in his leg (or was it an arm?) and we were forced to turn back. Trying not to show my annoyance and disappointment, I dutifully turned around, trying to control myself and not flare up. On the way back, we noticed a tiny shop selling bread and smoked sausage. The recipe for both was carefully preserved from the time when Russian merchants lived in these houses along the street, and on the other side of the Sungari there were summer cottages of wealthy Russian Harbin residents. Bread in China is sweet and, therefore, when I entered the shop, I hesitated for a long time whether to take it or not, because naturally no one gave me a taste of it. Taking another smoked sausage to the bread (which was also an experiment), we moved to the hotel. However, the experiment turned out to be a success. It was insanely delicious. But back to the streets of Harbin. Darkness fell rapidly, but no one was in a hurry to go home. On the contrary, the darker it became, the more people spread along the embankment. Looking longingly at the place where the fun boils, I entered the hall. It seemed to me a crime to sit in a hotel room when there, behind the windows, life is in full swing.
  ATTENTION.
A reminder to myself. If I again want to go to China with *, kind, but tired of life and old (not by age, but by mental disposition, a person), it is advisable to read all of the above and remember my longing. Longing and resentment from the fact that having flown so many kilometers, I was forced to sit in a cramped room, instead of walking and enjoying life. They sat, cursed, stared at the TV. Finally, patience ran out, and I went to Velmart, a supermarket that was not far from the hotel. * Naturally followed me, courageously overcoming fatigue. I'm not cruel, I'm sorry *, but what's the point of a trip if you sit in a room and listen longingly to the noise on the street, but you can't hear anything. The hotel is old and respectable. Not a single sound is let through by its old walls. It was raining outside. I got it all mixed up. It was already sunny and bright on the second of May. And the first was stuffy, windy and a little gloomy. And here is the result, the rain. But he did not prevent me, or rather us, from reaching Velmart. Not how I imagined his visit, no, not like that. I dreamed that I would wander around its floors for a long time, watching the customers and looking at the goods. But * of course he made his own adjustments. Having grabbed some goods and even more upset, a few minutes later I was already standing on the escalator, which carried me down. I describe all this in such detail and ruthlessly, so as not to forget and not to drown in illusions again, if the next time * again offers me to go to China.
May 2
My eyes snapped open at 5:30 AM Chinese time. In our opinion, respectively, it was eight thirty. On the bed next to me, * attracted by the noise and light from the phone, I stared heroically at the cell phone screen, trying to figure out what time it was from sleep. Since the phone had to be turned off in the evening, because at about 22.30 in our opinion the stubborn Volodya called and muttered something about excursions, I waited a long time until the screen lights up and finally tells me what time it is. This noise finally woke me up *, and he sarcastically asked my plans for the next five minutes, reminding me that according to Chinese time it was still about six in the morning. A scandal erupted. After packing up, I flew out of the hotel. My path lay along the Sungari. Along (as they say in guidebooks) Stalin's park. I have wanted to go this route for a long time. But on past visits to Harbin, something or someone stood in the way of my modest dream coming true. Now I walked and breathed in the morning air. Every corner of the park was full of life. Elderly and not very elderly people have already started morning exercises. In groups and singly, concentrated men and women made smooth movements. And so on throughout my journey. It took me half an hour to reach almost the extreme point of the park, I spent half an hour on the way back. Unfortunately, unlike the trained Chinese, my legs, weak and spoiled by driving in a car, got tired very quickly, and it was still only morning, and I still wanted to go through and see so much. On the way back, I more and more intercepted the curious and friendly glances of the Chinese. Probably, the Russians rarely appeared here at such an early time. Sitting down on a bench, I saw whiteOK. Who would have thought? I even managed to photograph these brave animals.
next impression.
The meadow is lined with bushes. Several Chinese people are sitting in the clearing and enjoying the singing of birds. The birds are in cages. The cells hang on the bushes. There are many cells, about eight. I don't understand the purpose of this ritual. Either the birds were put up for sale, or (which is probably more accurate), they were taken out into the street to enjoy the surrounding landscape to the singing of singing captives. Limping slightly, and yet worried about the @ left in my room and resenting not being able to manage my time the way I wanted to, I almost made it to where my morning tour started. * was waiting for me, standing on the paved path and grimacing from the sun, which had already begun to bake not in the morning. Near the stele dedicated to the flood fighters, an old woman in a white coat and with a blood pressure monitor was sitting. She was probably waiting for older people returning from morning exercises. * I didn’t do exercises, but it’s always necessary to measure pressure ... I don’t know how for older athletes and athletes, but for * pressure measurement turned out to be paid. Quarreling, we moved to the hotel, towards our first breakfast on this trip. The breakfast was so-so, so I will not dwell on it. It was already eight o'clock in the morning when we finally decided to go outside. Yes, the city has changed a lot. This was evident from how difficult it turned out to be to get a taxi. Previously, one had only to leave the hotel and look around, and the taxi was already right there, this time... Convinced that no one was going to rush to us with open arms, we courageously decided to get to the St. Sophia Church ourselves, on foot. A year ago, * together with Sasha, my daughter's husband, we took such a walk, while my daughters and I were busy mastering the subway. * In memory, * there was a memory that he and Sasha reached quite quickly and easily, but then they had a map, but now there was no map, but there was an excellent memory * on which we relied, but, unfortunately, lost. We walked and walked, and the sun warmed up stronger and stronger. The people of Harbin, whom we stopped several times and shoved the guide book under their noses, helped us with pleasure and sent us, unfortunately, in completely different directions. * My shoulder and leg hurt, I didn’t have any pain, it was just hot. I mentally once again thanked my mother, who offered her shoes. If I had put something more fashionable on the road, I would now suffer along with *. How long is short, but we still got to the temple. I will not say that I could repeat this path if I were offered to return to the beginning. My visual memory is terrible. I remember walking for a long time along some spit-stained sidewalk, leftovers covered the pavement with a carpet, the ruins of a freshly destroyed building rose nearby. Hmm, well, no one invited us here, to the underside of the city. For light brown tourists, there are more well-groomed, or rather, well-groomed trails and routes. But let's get back to Hagia Sophia, as the first Russian settlers called it, erecting here, in the very heart of China, a piece of Holy Rus'. The last meters to the temple passed stalls with a variety of goods splashed almost onto the roadway. Oh, what was there. The bright sun illuminated the buzzing crowd of buyers and sellers.
WARNING: REMEMBER!!!
  The insane desire to examine, feel, and even, even, buy, was extinguished by one glance, exhausted *. I didn’t even argue and argue, what’s the point? It's great, right? The yuan is in his pocket, they burn the body through the fabric, they sing in Chinese: "Spend it, us!", But I can't! It would be fine, there was no money ... My God, these colors, abundance and ... In general, all this is still standing before my eyes. There were all sorts of Buddhist things made of red corrugated paper, there were ... But we had already reached the temple. The sun was so hot that it was just right, in the manner of Chinese homeless people, to lie down on the curb near Sofia and sunbathe, but * of course, I would never have allowed this. He is terribly moral and law-abiding…when sober. Pulling out the guidebook, I tried to find out from passers-by where the Manhattan or Mahatun store, as the people of Harbin themselves call it, is. On their very first visit to Harbin, my daughter and son-in-law lived in the Manhattan Hotel, and then my daughter showed it to me. It was there that the caring Chinese sent us, after looking at the guidebook. I did not believe and approached the next Chinese. But the result was the same. Returning home, I learned from my daughter that the Chinese were right, and not me. The store I needed with the same name was located at the foot of the hotel, where we were so patiently sent. But I found out about it only at home, now, burning with the sun and thirst, I or maybe all the same * (I don’t remember), but one of us hardly stopped a taxi, and we went to the Churin store. Or rather, our goal was, after all, not the insanely expensive Churin, but the subway with children's things, which, as I remember from last year's arrival, was next to Churin. And then I made a mistake, no, to immediately rush to the children's things and grab the children's dresses and patchwork blouses.kami, until the train left, that is, the subway was not closed or what other cataclysms can expect mad grandmothers who seized on little things for their beloved granddaughter, no, I decided to buy myself trousers. The concepts of beauty are * different for us, as well as all other concepts, therefore * I liked how trousers of one size are on me, but I liked another size. I insisted on my own, * pouted. We bought trousers, but the mood was spoiled. Tiny little things for the baby I chose under a heavy and unblinking look *. The choice was huge, but I bought a little. As I wrote above, the mood was spoiled. It was still very early when we got out of the subway, the whole day ahead, and we no longer wanted to see each other. We took a taxi and went to the local history museum of Harbin. This was the second attempt to find the museum. A year ago, together with Klava, we drove to Gogol Street and, obeying the gesture of a taxi driver who pointed in an unknown direction, turned around and left, began to look for the museum. A year ago, we did not find the museum, but this time we found it, but it turned out not to be a museum, but a temple similar to St. Sophia's. By the way, we also passed by this building last year, but did not know what ... However, I will write everything in order. The museum building was locked with a barn lock, this concerns the central entrance, near another entrance, more modest, two good-natured middle-aged Chinese women were sitting and talking animatedly about something. Glancing at the guidebook, one of the Chinese women burst into a machine-gun burst of words. Of course, we didn't understand anything. On the other side of the museum-temple there was a stage, and a lively theatrical action was going on there. Young people, about 16-19 years old, were dressed in costumes from different eras. The costumes of the reigns of various Chinese emperors prevailed, but there were characters from films. I didn’t understand the logic of the theatrical action, and I didn’t try, all this time I was busy shoving the guide with the address of the museum to different young people in suits and without. But all of them invariably pointed to the building of the museum, which turned out to be not a museum. Having finally come to terms with the idea that this is really a museum, I began to pester the Chinese caretakers with questions. One of the women laughed and led us inside the room. The imaginary museum turned out to be a church. It was cool, quiet and beautiful inside. Icons hung, but some of them were not like that... Having thanked the kind women, we again went outside. It was hot and noisy outside. Having failed in this attempt to find a museum, I took a picture next to the bust of Gogol, and we went home. I got everything mixed up again, only after a failed attempt to find the museum, we went to Churin and went down to the subway. The description of the quarrel can be seen above. After the subway, we decided to take a walk to the hotel where we lived on our first visit, three years ago. While *buying fruit (which turned out to be insanely expensive), I entered the hotel, but it turned out that I did not remember anything. The lobby of the hotel did not bring any memories to me. Still, today is June 1, and I no longer remember the events of a month ago, I mixed everything up, and now three years have passed. Nostalgia nostalgia, but again we could not catch a taxi. After spending quite a lot of time, pretty dusty and sweaty, we moved back to Churin and there, with great difficulty, quarreling and snarling, we nevertheless caught a taxi. After resting in the hotel, I went to wander along the Arbat. The holiday street made noise, sang and danced, that is, danced, Chinese girls showed their mastery of modern ballroom dancing, and all this happened to the howling of barkers.
May 3rd
The morning started unexpectedly quietly. We went back to the subway near the Churin store, changed the trousers that we bought yesterday, which turned out to be not at all an easy task, since in this interweaving of corridors and passages it is difficult to find what you are looking for, and even more difficult to find a specific tray and a Chinese woman who sold the goods . But we still found it. The owner of the goods was found, the trousers were changed, I was again dissatisfied, to which the Chinese woman said, if you don’t like something, there is a room nearby where everything is altered. Hemmed trousers for five yuan, but sewing on the belt cost 25 yuan. Young guys who ran in to iron the goods they had just bought also paid five yuan. We sat there for about an hour. The rest of the day was uneventful, around mid-afternoon @ began to show signs of impatience and hint that it would be nice to have a drink. I stopped these attempts as best I could, but if * he thought of something, he would not back down. Moreover, walking along the Arbat, we met cafes everywhere, where we drank beer and ate seafood and other, mainly Chinese food. The way back home was exactly like the way to Harbin, so I won't describe it. All these events happened a few years ago, rereading what I wrote, I think about how harmful and impatient I was. But what to do, what is, such is.
YANJI CITY. SEXUALLY HORNY CHINESE
China. Yanji city. Fuban Hotel. August.
The Fuban Hotel was so-so, this applies to breakfasts and rooms, but the hotel had hot springs, the sauna was simple and salty.Yanaya, a pool of cold water where one could swim for hours. So, let me introduce you to the underground floor of the Fuban hotel: there are probably 6-8 pools with hot springs, there is also a pool with goldfish. But, firstly, it is cold, and secondly, these fish are not simple, these fish love to eat keratinized skin from the heels of a person, but they can also bite on what is higher. It doesn't hurt at all, but it's annoying and ticklish. So, I already sketched the big picture. It was possible to go and stay in a hotel of a higher category, there are a huge number of such hotels in the city of Yanji, but they do not have hot pools. And I love to swim, I love to lie in hot pools! It so happened that I went on this trip alone. Moreover, for those who were not afraid to move around China on their own, similar tours were invented. This tour meant that the Chinese would guide you to the right places, but your transportation by buses or trains would be independent. That is, they will not accompany you on the road to China. No, of course, at point "B" they were waiting for me. Even at home, in Vladivostok, the travel agency gave me all the escorts so that I would not get lost. The city of Hunchun, where I arrived from Russia, and from where I had to go to the city of Yanji, an absolutely calm, friendly and safe city. Maybe if you behave defiantly and do not follow the simple rules that the leaders of the groups announce when crossing the border, you can run into trouble, but this has never happened to me in the city of Hunchun. The Chinese treat the Russian people with some shyness and respect; still, a Russian person is a goose that lays golden eggs.
A small digression, the first time I came to the city of Hunchun in 2008. In my opinion, then this small town was a hole in the hole. At least, that's how it seemed to me at the time. There were no signs in Russian, no one understood Russian. Now, when more than ten years have passed, Hunchun has turned into a completely different city. It is no longer possible to say that this city is small. It grows up and down. Unlike another border city, Suifenhe, this city is safe. Here, in the subway, no one pulls you by the hand, does not offer to cure your teeth, sew curtains, get a massage. In general, since 2008 I have visited the city of Hunchun probably fifteen times, and nothing bad has ever happened to me. I traveled alone and with friends and family. I used to feel safer in China than even at home. In any case, you can walk all night in Hunchun and no one will offend you. If you are interested in learning more about what Hunchun was like in 2008 and how I got lost in this city, you can read my humorous story "Help". My retreat is over, the purpose of the retreat was for you to understand how confident I was in my safety when I arrived in Yanji City. The story that I will tell now is, I think, an isolated case. In their mass, the Chinese try not to communicate with Russian people, they shun them. If a Russian person asks a question, they wave their hands, hinting that the Russian person will not receive an answer from them. I got used to this attitude of the Chinese, and did not see anything wrong here. However, even here, in the city of Yanji, where the foot of a Russian person stepped much less often than in the city of Hunchun, Harbin and Suifenhe, one could still find a person who would help and direct to the right place. However, this is exactly what I didn't need. I had a map of the city, and the Chinese, who met me at point "B" and settled me in the Fuban Hotel, answered all my questions with pleasure, made notes on the map, wrote on a piece of paper in hieroglyphs the name of the place where I wanted to go. I could show this leaflet to a taxi driver, or a bus driver. By the way, a bus ride around the city costs one yuan. All six days of my stay in Yanji, I enjoyed getting to know this beautiful city with a Korean flavor. In the evenings, I went to the river and watched the dancing Chinese, they danced both in groups and one by one. Each group had its own music column. Since the area where they danced was not so huge, the music was sometimes superimposed on other music. I climbed Mount Shapka, walked around Koreatown, visited a Buddhist temple and museum, and saw a Korean opera. The story I want to tell happened on the third day of my stay in the city of Yanji. Not far from my hotel was a city park. Well, how close, if you walk, you could spend 20 minutes, if you go by bus, the stop of which was right next to the hotel, then you had to drive five minutes to the park.
And retreat again.
In 2008, I went from Hunchun City to Yanji for a tour. You can also read this story in the book "Help". It was an excursion that I did not like terribly, the only bright memory of this excursion was just the city park. And now, when more than ten years have passed, I decided to visit this park. It was raining that day. So toAs it was August outside, it was stuffy. I was wearing a thick raincoat, and I had a heavy mirror camera around my neck. Despite the rain, the Chinese danced. They danced alone and in pairs. The lake in the park was overgrown with lotuses, it was very beautiful! In the gazebo, elderly Chinese were talking and playing some kind of national game such as checkers. So, I outlined the general picture of the park for you. The Chinese politely avoided when I passed, looked away when I smiled at them, however, when I turned away, their eyes followed me. Probably the reason for this was my hair is incredibly red, acid color. Or maybe the reason was different, who will sort out their Chinese. After walking along the lake, or rather around the lake, admiring the small zoo and dancing people, I decided to climb the stairs to the second level of the park, which was crowned with a statue of two dancing girls. And here, attention, a young Chinese man approached me. Although I don’t know, maybe it was not a Chinese, but a Chinese Korean, or a Manchu. People of these nationalities lived on the territory of Yanban, a Korean district, which included the city of Hunchun, the city of Yanji and several dozen other cities. In this district, sixty percent of the population are Chinese Koreans, ten are Manchus, and the rest are Chinese. Well, as I understand it, it doesn't matter to you. In short, a young man of Asian appearance approached me. Apart from the word "nihao", which means "hello" in Chinese, I don't know anything from the Chinese language. Therefore, when the man turned to me, I answered him in Russian that I did not understand. I thought that our conversation would be over, but the man continued to say something. And not just talking, judging by the intonation, the man insisted on something. And then he came close to me, pulled me to him and tried to kiss.
My shock cannot be described in words!
As you understand, I began to break out, but the more I pulled out, the more he pulled me to him. Then I changed tactics and just relaxed. However, this did not help, the man continued to pull his lips to mine. My brain was working hard, I was looking for ways to free myself, and I found the only way that could work. I cried. Surprised, the man loosened his grip. I took advantage of this and freed myself. Unfortunately, there were no people on the site. Otherwise, the man would not have behaved so arrogantly. Running away from the sexually horny Chinese, I moved to the side, where there were several compositions of sculptures. There were passers-by, but they were few. My cheeks burned, but I tried to calm down. Naive, I thought that the danger had passed, but the loving Chinese decided to make one more attempt to explain his feelings to me. The Chinese caught up with me and began to say something again, but this time I did not let him get close to me. Vidocq I probably still had that, bright red disheveled hair and red cheeks! Suddenly the Chinese made a jerk and grabbed my hands! I screamed, the rare passers-by who walked on this second-level platform were my hope. And so it happened, my cry attracted people, and the Chinese in love lagged behind me. This time, I decided not to tempt fate, and quickly went down to where there were a lot of people, that is, to the first platform. Here they still sang, danced, played the national game, chatted and admired lotuses. The Chinese did not leave immediately. He was waiting for me to move in some direction. However, there were no more fools. Here, where there were many people, fear released me, but I was on the alert. After half an hour, when I glanced sideways and then turned around, the Chinese who molested me on the site was gone. After that, I decided to walk around the shopping centers, and then went down to the subway, that is, went to the underground shops. I chose crowded places, just in case the Chinese follow me. Well, maybe that was too much. I never saw this Chinese again. Back at the hotel, I changed into a bathing suit and went down to the underground level of the hotel, where the hot pools were. I only relaxed when I sank into the hot water. The water temperature was 40°, but my brain and heart must have been even hotter. Everything inside me boiled, I was shaking. The fear gradually subsided, but I thought about what might have happened if I hadn't fought off the horny Chinese man. The fact is that I relaxed so much, believing that it was safe for me in China, that I didn’t even take my passport. The passport then remained in the room. When I entered the park, I only had yuan in my purse and a card with the name of the hotel on it. Since I came to Yanji City alone and there was no one to worry about me, I don't think I would be missed quickly. Of course I was being stupid. However, it would be even more stupid now to hide in a hotel room and tremble with fear. Therefore, in order to overcome fear, the next day, I again went to the park. Nothing else bad happened to me. Naturally, this time I took my passport with me. Here is a story that happened to me. Of course, I am a coward, but I know that fear does not enslave me byAll in all, you need to move forward. Always go ahead!
INTIMATE MOMENT
Dedicated to the cats of Mr. Gong Yoo
-Meow, soft tail number one, how did you sleep?
-Bad, soft tail number two, slept badly!
-Why?
- The owner was not at home!
-So what? Today was not, tomorrow will be! Tail number one, no need to be sad!
-You feel good! You gave your energy to the owner last week and now you are empty, but what should I do?
-Like what? Can you share with me!
- No, no, this is for the owner!
- The owner is on set, will be back in three days! Can you stand it? Or maybe (playfully rubs his tail) can you still share?
- Well... (thinks) no, I'll still wait for the owner. After the shooting, he will come tired and all exhausted, and here I am, jumping on his stomach, and that's it!
-What all?
-Everything means everything!
- No, you still tell me what your words mean?
- Don't you have anything to do? Go, wash your face, wash your mustache, you smell like fish, which the owner brought back from fishing!
-Can not be! The owner caught the fish and brought it back two days ago, I ate it right away! Does it smell? (spins around, tries to catch the smell)
-Yes! Smells! I told you not to eat right away! You have to wait until the fish rests in the bowl! And you... (mimicking) you have to hurry, hurry!
- Yes, okay, don't be mad! That extra energy went into your head! I say, share the energy! (takes a step towards a friend)
-Stay where you are! You tail number two, you treacherous type! And do not hope that you will take energy by deceit! Energy for the owner and only for him!
-Enough for you!
- Don't get close!
-Tail number one, I'm mad at you! I'll go to the bedroom, lie down on the owner's pillow!
-Well, okay! And I'll go where his things hang! Things also smell like the owner! What? Did the door knock? Hooray! The owner is back! Not! He is not alone. Is he... with a female?
Tail number two, are you there yet? What do we do?
-Like what? Meet! We are the pride of the owner! You have to show your best side! What is he doing? Master, where are you taking us? It's us, your tailed friends!
- Shut up already! Don't meow so loud! It's useless!
-Why?
Haven't you heard that the female that came with the owner is allergic to cat hair!
- No, you heard that? Why go to a house where decent cats live if you have allergies? Go to your home! And don't ruin the lives of others! What are you?
- My stomach hurts! Too much energy! And sparks fly from the mustache!
- I say, give urgently extra energy!
- No (groans) it's for the owner. When the female leaves, I will lie down on his legs or on his stomach and share my energy! I know, after all, that he is completely tired from filming and exhausted! And after my help, he immediately feels better!
- You are a hero, gray tail number one! The owner just doesn't need your energy right now! Can't you hear! Several more females came to him, and then two more males! Now they will have fun until the morning! So...
- Okay, white tail number two, come here! I will share! Only... You remember that the exchange of... energies is such a... intimate thing!
-And what do you suggest?
- We need to go behind the third hanger, no one will disturb us there!
-Well, that's too much! So what? All cats do it!
- If we are interrupted in the middle of an exchange, it will be unpleasant! And I don't like confusion! I even saw it on TV...
-What?
- I saw in one program that after such embarrassment I had to call a veterinary ambulance!
-Wow! Even so? Well, (rubbing his tail) then let's go faster for the third hanger!

In the next morning.

- Well, did the owner call you?
-Yes.
-What about you?
-I'm nothing!
- Didn't give him energy?
-Not.
-Correctly. There is nothing to invite extraneous females to visit. Yes, even those with allergies to cats! But still...
-What?
- I'm thinking, aren't we being too harsh with him? It's still our master! The poor man is lying, his head hurts after yesterday! Can we go to him?
-But there is no sense, there is no more healing energy!
-I have! You gave me yesterday!
-Here you are! Well, go to him!
-So I'll go!
-Go, go!
-And I'll go! Well, I'm off? Oops! Hey, master, where are you going?
-Where, where, but you don’t know! The owner went to the gym! He always goes to the gym after such parties. Though crawling, but it goes!
-In gym? And what about me? Where should I put my energy now?
-Well... let's go share!?
- I don't want a third hanger! Let's go to the owner's bed, he won't be back before three hours anyway!
-And that's true! How warm and soft it is! The bed is the best place to exchange... energies! Well, tail number two, let's begin! Come... Here... Don't breathe so hard and don't meow so loudly! Knocking down the whole mood! Mustaches never stand on end! Let's start! As always, lightly rub your whiskers against mine! (cats touch each other with their whiskers a little, this is an exchange of energy) Phew! Now everything is equal! Half your energy, half mine! And the mustache no longer beats with current!
MY KOREAN DRAM
"Dating Site or My Korean Drama"
comedy story
PROLOGUE
The endocrinologist prescribes me pills. My excess weight is slowly disappearing, I am becoming a beauty. But there is a side effect, when taking pills, I suddenly blow my mind. I want a big and passionate love, you can even in the hayloft (Uno Momento). Register for saI’m dating, at the same time I’m starting to watch Korean dramas, which insanely make me ... Well, they excite me or something ...
CHAPTER 1
I meet a Korean Uk on a dating site. He came to my city for three days as a tourist. In addition to all the stories about myself, I mention that I write books and some of them can even be bought in bookstores. And I also tell the Korean about the book Millionka I wrote, which tells about the mysterious past of the city of Vladivostok and the secret city, which is located under the criminal quarter of Millionka. The events of the book take place in 1907 and tell that Chinese, Japanese, poor Russians and Koreans lived in the Millionka quarter. Millionka was a criminal quarter, where unsanitary conditions and anarchy reigned. Wook was especially interested in the fate of the Korean protagonist Xi (Anastasia). Fleeing from the chase, Xi hides in the catacombs that run under the entire city, and suddenly a passage opens in front of her to the secret city of Zhen, which is located below the level of the catacombs. This story interested Uk so much that he asks for a short retelling of the book, and also wonders how I learned about the secret city. The Korean speaks Russian quite well via video link.
CHAPTER 2
The next day, the Korean stops communicating via video call, drops my call, and suddenly stops understanding me on WhatsApp. Moreover, he writes all sorts of nonsense on the Internet, and begins to insist that I come to the hotel to his room. I, of course, refuse.
CHAPTER 3
The Korean writes that he is interested in the information that is mentioned in the book, and he wants me to come to his room to talk about it. I again reject this strange and dangerous proposal. And in response, I propose to meet in the city center and talk. The Korean says that he is afraid to leave the room, and again insists on a private meeting. And gets rejected again.
CHAPTER 4
Time runs. Uk arrived only for three days. Having understood that I will not come, the Korean reluctantly agrees to meet near the hotel. It suits me. By a strange coincidence, I live near this hotel and I don't have to go anywhere. And I have to buy apples at the supermarket. The supermarket is next to the hotel, and I decide to kill two birds with one stone, buy apples and go on a date.
CHAPTER 5
So, before Uka left, we agreed to meet near his hotel. I have a bag of apples from the supermarket in my hands, but they kidnap me. I hear steps behind me, I start to turn around, but I feel a prick in my shoulder and my apples fall to the ground from weakened hands.
CHAPTER 6
I wake up in an unfamiliar place. For some reason they changed my clothes, and now I'm in my pajamas. I manage to look out the window and see an unfamiliar city. The signs on the signs seem to be in Korean.
CHAPTER 7
A strange man, unlike the one who spoke to me via video link, demands that I tell you exactly where the secret city under Millionka is located. When I refuse, the man threatens to torture me. He takes out scissors and threatens to cut off my hair, I yell with all my might, at this time another man runs into the room, this is exactly the man with whom I spoke via video link.
CHAPTER 8
The man says something menacingly to my tormentor. He tries to object, and then lowering his head goes out. I'm hysterical.
CHAPTER 9
Uk, this is the name of my fianc; from a dating site, he is trying to calm me down, but I hiccup from tears. Wook explains that my tormentor is his personal assistant in the foreign policy department.
CHAPTER 10
There's been a misunderstanding. Uku had to return to his homeland without meeting me. Before leaving, Uk did not give any orders to the assistant, but only complained that the meeting with me did not take place, and the secrets of the Millionka quarter, which Uk wanted to discuss with me, would remain secrets for him for the time being.
CHAPTER 11
The assistant misunderstood Uka. He decided that the boss's lamentations about the impossibility of meeting with me was a signal to action. Hence all the subsequent actions that resulted in a misunderstanding. Now that everything has been cleared up, Uk is ready to immediately eliminate all the consequences of his assistant's misbehavior. I really don't like the word "eliminate".
CHAPTER 12
The helper will be punished. He will be demoted, and again, as many years ago, he will have to climb the career ladder from the very bottom. For workaholics and careerists like this assistant, such a punishment is worse than imprisonment.
Chapter 13
Wook tells me that now we are in his house, but tomorrow, if I want, they will transfer me to a hotel. He is waiting for some sign from me, but I am silent and think. Taking Uka's words literally, it occurs to me that, according to the laws of the genre, I should now be liquidated, since I know a lot and have seen things that should not be seen.
Chapter 14
It will be easier to kill me in the inn, so I tell Uku that I will stay here at his house.
CHAPTER 15
Wook looks surprised, but does not argue. Before dinner, they bring me a dress and shoes, it is in this outfit that I must go out to where the owner of the house is waiting for me for dinner. The dress is narrow in the chest, but not critical, although the top button was fastened with great difficulty on my truly Russian bust.
CHAPTERsixteen
For fear of being killed, I cannot eat. I don’t like alcohol, I don’t drink it at all, because when I drink, I get bored, people around me start having fun from alcohol, and I usually go to sleep. However, this time, in a state of shock, I drink two glasses of scarlet wine. I am instantly thrown into a feverish state. Wine plus a pill that I drank in the morning, before a date, gives an unusual combination.
CHAPTER 16
Feverishly considering the situation, I come to the conclusion that I need to seduce the owner of the house. After dinner, I go up to him and kiss him. The Korean flutters at first, but I build up the depth and sweetness of the kisses. The top button on the dress suddenly flies off.
CHAPTER 17
The Korean surrenders. He tries to say something, but I wrap my arms around him and hold him as tight as I can. Scene for adults.
CHAPTER 18
Time goes by. Adult scenes are repeated three to four times a day. This is not to mention the night. Wook is in a small love stupor, but he regularly plays the main role allotted in the scene. He admits that he would be ready to shorten his visits to my arms, but at the thought of me, everything, literally everything, in him rises and bursts out.
CHAPTER 19
Modern Koreans are slaves of etiquette. Dramas and movies tell young people that there should be consistency in a relationship, but I broke the script that was probably brewing in my lover's head. Koreans are still those masochists in love relationships. Dramas have instilled a certain stereotype in them, and they try to live up to it. I'm talking about the scenes where the lovers lie fully dressed in the same bed, staring devouringly at each other, sometimes kissing and hugging, but they don't try to do anything more. Sometimes they even sleep like this all night, putting a pillow between them for fidelity. Terrible sweet!
CHAPTER 20
I enjoy being with Wook in certain ways, but the thought of being in danger is stronger than the passion.
CHAPTER 21
Let's go back to the kidnapping, I want to say that after two days I was given the opportunity to write a few words to my relatives in WhatsApp, and they took the phone away for good.
CHAPTER 22
So another month passes, Uk is still full of energy, but he looks already tired, I do not let him sleep at night.
CHAPTER 23
Usually after the adult scenes, I would go to my room, but now I demand that Wook sleep with me in his own bed all night. It's like I can't sleep without it. As if I love so much that I can not stay without him at night and for a second. Wook looks at me, puzzled, but doesn't mind. I have a secret weapon - my snoring, now Uku will definitely not have to sleep.
CHAPTER 24
Another month later, when a Korean tries to challenge me to a serious conversation by wearing a tuxedo and a bow tie and hiding something behind my back, I suddenly suggest that Wook send me home. I thought that Wook would be happy to be free of me and the problems I create, but he turns pale and grim, but does not try to protest. Wook puts what he hid behind his back in his pocket, and tells me that he had an important conversation with me, but since I made such a sudden decision, he obeys.
CHAPTER 25
I don’t care about Uka’s mental anguish, I didn’t fully believe him. As they say, ss, that is, scenes for adults, is not yet a reason to get to know each other. I want to go home. Uka's house is not my home. Uka's homeland is not my homeland. As for our passionate nights… Well, I somehow lived before meeting Uk, and I will live on. Although ... Yes, okay. What is there to hide, it was very good.
CHAPTER 26
I'm being injected again. In oblivion, like a few months ago, I feel that the plane takes off from the ground, and then sits down again, and now I'm standing at the door of my house with a bag of apples. Of course, these are already different apples, and the package in which they lie is different, but no one knows about it except me.
CHAPTER 27
I am going back home. Colleagues, relatives are in shock, the police are talking to me, but I am hysterical. I'm talking about the fact that some idiot kidnapped me and tortured me, asking about the secret city near Millionka that I invented in the book. Of course, I don’t mention the fact that I was in Korea.
CHAPTER 28
Uk and I agreed that we would meet in six months. But after a month I cry and miss. They try to send me to a session with a psychologist. The people around me feel sorry for me, they think that I am crying because of the memories of torture and kidnapping. It's my time not to sleep. I'm sad. However, when I fall asleep, it becomes even harder. My dreams are full of love and yearning. Morning brings anger and longing.
CHAPTER 29
Out of boredom, or rather out of habit, I try to go to a dating site and chat with one of the men from the site, but my profile is suddenly blocked for no reason. I write to the site administrators, they write back that only the ip address is blocked, but not my profile. Cursing, I have to negotiate with the site administrators to restore this notorious ip address. This is repeated many times, finally I understand that my jealous Uk is doing this somehow with the help of his IT people.
CHAPTER 30
Time goes by slowly. My life is boring, from home to work and back. In order to somehow color my everyday life, every evening I walk along the same route and think about it.CHAPTER 31
My route passes by the hotel where he lived. Slowing down, I stand near the hotel for a few seconds and imagine it within the walls of the room. This is repeated every day. Finally, after six months, walking along the usual route, I sink, tired, onto a bench. Suddenly I hear my name spoken in a familiar voice with a slight accent. Hugs, kisses.
EPILOGUE
Happy end. Scene for adults.
MARCH 8. ONE HUNDRED FIVE ROSES
-Expensive? Good morning, Sunshine! Happy March 8th, you! Kitty, sunshine, where are you? I brought you breakfast in bed!
What are you doing under the bed?
-Shh! The ghosts will hear!
- Ghosts? Did you watch TV again until morning?
- No, I read the article on the Internet! Can you imagine, it turns out that the March 8 holiday was given to women by the emperor of Russia for their contribution to the struggle for women's rights! That's when the feminist movement was born!
-So what? And what are you doing here?
-In the morning I had a bad dream, I don’t remember what, but I remember that it became hard for me to breathe!
-Wow!
-I woke up, caught my breath, opened my eyes and saw that my bedroom was full of women, they did not fit into the room and some even stood in the corridor!
Let me help you get out from under
beds. Your cheeks are red! Do you have a fever?
-You do not believe me?
-What you! I believe... of course, but...
- In the hands of the women were heavy square tablets made of wood, they were painted calls: "Women-freedom, land - peasants, bread-hungry!!!".
- Well, let's say, but I don't understand, but what do you have to do with it?
-Women so loudly all in one voice said that I had a headache!
- Come to me, I will calm you down!
-Not! They will punish me then! They shouted that on March 8, 1917, they went to a rally and fought for the rights of women, and I am unworthy! I live quietly, accept your care, as well as love, and do not fight!
-Ah... so... Wait, I'll call your mom now!
- Don't mom! They shouted that a woman should live independently of her parents and her husband!
-So what should I do? You won't accept my help!
- Well, I've come up with something, but promise me that you'll help make it happen!
-Okay... Well, okay... Speak up!
“Is that what you were going to give me today?”
-You about it? This was a surprise! I'll bring it now, wait!
- Stop! No need! I already know! I saw the gift you prepared!
-Oh!
-Learn at least to hide gifts in different places!
- I'm sorry... However...
- I saw this ring! Nice ring but...
- You didn't like the ring?
-That's not the point. The ring is beautiful, but ... In general, the point is this, now there are one hundred and five women in our apartment, you don’t see them, but I see how they threaten me.
-Oh my God...
-To appease the spirit of these women, you must buy a hundred and five roses!
-O! I finally got it! Oh, you are my fantasy! How did I forget that you wanted an unusual and very romantic gift! Thank God, otherwise I thought that your roof had gone crazy and I was going to call a psychiatric hospital! I'm sorry! So how many women do you say accumulated in our apartment (laughs) one hundred and five? I went!
-Where?
- I’ll go to my office, to the computer, I’ll find a site where you can order so many roses with home delivery! Or maybe...
-What?
“Maybe we can still get by with the ring?”
- Dear (threateningly) you want me to get hurt?
- No, what are you! You are the most valuable thing on this earth for me! And yet, don't scare me like that next time, but just say, I want two hundred roses! Cunning!
- Not two hundred, but one hundred and five! (laughs) yes, I am! What to do if you don't understand hints!
(Waits until the husband leaves, and then whispers)
-Women, if he buys roses, and each of you gets a rose, will you leave then? That's for sure? For good? Don't cheat?
ANDY, YOU ARE MY MATCH!
Good evening, I'm Iren Mut and today we're going to talk about coincidences. When I write a new book, my thoughts flow, I don’t even have time to think about what I am writing, my task is to write everything down. Then the painstaking work of correcting mistakes begins, which I also love, but the most pleasant thing is the process when I write down for a narrator unknown to me. Of course, I understand that there is no unknown narrator, all my books are the result of the work of the brain, but sometimes I really want to deceive myself ... However, there are coincidences and strange things that happen while writing manuscripts. Seventy percent of my books are mystical, but in life I am a very rational person. No, I believe in miracles and coincidences, but they rarely happen to me. In the story "Phantom" I described a real story that happened to me after the entrance exam in literature. I really saw, waking up, a thin and tall man who bent over me, but when I screamed, it turned out that there was no one in the room. However, I will not retell, read for yourself. But I attributed that incident to the fact that I cried a lot after the exam in literature. At the time, I thought I wrote the essay badly. That's why I imagined something.
In the book "Environmental Police" the main driving force of the story is that people are forced to live without closing the curtains. If the curtains are closed, the environmental police immediately fines the violator. The city wherethere is an action - Russian, but the Chinese are in charge of the environmental police. But this story is a fantasy, a dystopia, that is, there is almost no connection with reality in the story. I wrote a story, safely sent it to the world and forgot it for a while, but one day ... Once, while in China, I was suddenly surprised to find out interesting information. For a while, curtains were banned in China. In any house, everything had to be clearly visible and transparent. I was amazed. After all, when I started the story, I didn’t know about this fact. Or here's another story about coincidences. My first book, which readers appreciated, was the book "Millionka". So, in this book there is a Japanese boy. He is one of the main characters of the book. In general, an international team of young people operates in the book, if we speak in modern terms. Simply put , then a Korean half-breed girl finds herself in the epicenter of strange events, and her Japanese, Chinese and Russian friends help her survive. Representatives of these nationalities lived at that time in Vladivostok, in the criminal quarter "Millionka". The time of action is 1907. However, I again almost went deep into the retelling, sorry. You'd better read this book yourself, especially since we're talking about coincidences today. Yes, Japanese boy. There is a dungeon, a long underground passage used by smugglers, as well as Chinese Honghuzi bandits, however, there is a branch in the dungeon, a passage that is sealed for centuries, and only the presence of two people at the same time can open this passage. One of these people is a Japanese boy. So, Japanese boy. The boy had to be given a name, it was too lazy to surf the Internet for Japanese names. My brain gave out the name, I wrote it down. I gave the boy the name Tolya. Two syllables, then I combined Li into one, and the name came out - Toli. The boy is like a boy, moderately naive and friendly. The action in the book moved and moved until... Until the battle of the shamans took place. There was a ghost shaman, there was a real shaman - this is a Japanese boy. There was a serious battle. So, attention, the ghost shaman was wearing a ritual attire. His cape was all sheathed with mirrors, these shamanic mirrors had a specific name, and the name of these mirrors was Toli. When I found this information about shamanic attire in one of the sources, I went cold. The name of the shamanic attribute and the name of the boy I made up were the same. Moreover, I invented the name long before I came across this information. I never look for information in advance, I'm too lazy. Only at the moment when it is already impossible to get out, and one of the heroes needs documentary confirmation, I climb the Internet or look for the necessary information in books. I hope I explained clearly? If not, I'll check again. A Japanese boy appears on the first pages of the book Millionka, he needs to be given a name, I immediately invent it, because I do not want to give the boy a real Japanese name. The action moves, somewhere in the middle or almost at the end of the book there is a battle of shamans. Here you can’t get by with fantasy, and I’m looking for information about the attributes of shamans and ritual clothes and stumble upon the name of shaman mirrors that are sewn onto shamans’ ritual clothes. The mirrors have the name Toli, a Japanese boy, one of the main characters of the story, also received this name at the very beginning of the story. Is this a coincidence or what? I often doubt myself, however, like all people on the planet. Realizing that there was a coincidence, I began to suspect that maybe I had already read somewhere about Tolya's shamanic mirrors and this was no coincidence, but very soon I abandoned this idea. No, I didn't read anything like that before the beginning of the book. I don't prepare when I start a book, I don't look for specialized literature. However, sometimes when the plot takes an unplanned turn, and this happens very often in my books, I have to look for special information. And there will probably be eight or nine such coincidences.
Coincidences are different.
I'll tell you about one more thing. I have a favorite Chinese actor, his name is Andy Lau, Andy Lau.
In the book "Schizophrenia" there is a description of the moment when the heroine saw Andy's face on the poster. This is a true story and it happened to me. I was in Harbin with my friend, we were walking and for some reason, I don’t remember now why, we cursed. And suddenly, my eyes fell on the poster. I instantly forgot about the quarrel. My heart ached. Tears filled my eyes, a strange feeling of pain and at the same time sweetness filled my soul. I stood like a fool in front of the poster and could not move. My friend was waiting for the continuation of the quarrel, and was preparing counterarguments, but did not know that I had already forgotten about him and the quarrel. The world has ceased to exist. The heart was beating with furious force. I didn't know this person on the poster, and yet... I knew from somewhere. This face was familiar to me. Maybe I dreamed about it once or came from the past?
Then, at home, I found out the name of the actor, and the place where he lives. And at that moment I just photographed the poster and walked away with regret. I was seized by a wild feeling, I wanted to stroke the face on the poster, or even better, tear off the poster and take it with me. Neither the first nor the second, of course, I do not stala.
Here is such a coincidence. However, what coincidence with what, I can’t even name specifically. This is not a coincidence, but an insight.
Please note, strange things happen to me when I am emotionally unstable. I saw the phantom because I was crying, the face on the poster hit me like an electric shock at the moment when I was arguing with a friend in the Chinese city of Harbin. I don’t remember exactly, but probably the name of the Japanese boy also came to my mind when I was not calm, something was happening around me then in reality.
However, the story with the Chinese actor had a continuation. I was on a plane from Hong Kong, by the way Andy Lau, Andy Lau lives there. But of course, I didn’t see the actor, since Hong Kong was just a transfer point. So, I flew from Hong Kong, or rather, we flew. My daughter was with me. The plane was thrown from side to side, we endlessly fell into air pockets. I didn’t pay attention to the chatter, I was reading something, and suddenly my daughter asked me a question: “Mom, are we falling? Mom, are we going to die?
I tried to answer, to calm my daughter, and suddenly I clearly saw a picture in front of my eyes. I'm standing on stage next to actor Andy Lau and he's kissing my hand. But... I'm wearing a skirt that I don't really have. On a skirt ... However, I will not describe the skirt. Suffice it to say that the detail on the skirt is not typical of this type of skirt. This happened in 2016. For six years now I have been looking for such a skirt in stores, but it is not available. Of course, you can sew such a skirt in a sewing salon, but this will not be a fair game. I know for sure that I must find such a skirt in the store, otherwise the meeting with my favorite Hong Kong actor Andy Lau will not take place. But I still hope!
These are stories about coincidences and insights that sometimes happen.
So, I hope I brightened up your evening, day or morning, and my little coincidence stories were interesting for you. I was with you, Iren Mut.