The Mirror Maze. Almost a chess novella. Nadezda Zeiglish
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Название: The Mirror Maze. Almost a chess novella
Автор: Nadezda Zeiglish
Издательство: Издательские решения
isbn: 9785006043183
isbn:
Where is the taxi? I’m freezing. My watch is showing six o’clock. I don’t understand; what have I been doing all this time? Doesn’t matter. Here is the nearest taxi. Got in the car. Asked the driver to drop me off at the cafe. Sitting on that cursed bench, I dreamt of getting home as soon as possible. To lie down and sleep. But now I wanted to delay my return, like a prisoner on a walk. I sat down on the terrace and ordered my favourite tea with honey. Its scent of mint soothed me.
I saw a girl in the opposite corner of the terrace feeding sparrows. Her pale skin glistening in the midsummer light was the unmistakable symbol of “our” people. I suddenly wanted to do something nice for her. But what exactly? Buy her sunscreen? She doesn’t need it. She doesn’t go out in the sun. And evidently she doesn’t need croissants either. She just tossed crumbs to the noisy flock as soon as they began to chirp. But still, there has to be something… Her complexion resembles a magnolia at dusk. It’s almost as if she’s asking to be put onto a canvas. Crazy idea, but maybe that’s exactly how I will find out what that flower needs?
Dream
It’s morning. Today I was not mistaken. I am definitely writing. Everything is as it should be. Knock-knock – a beak pokes at my window. My alarm-woodpecker turned out to be a silvery seagull. Many call these enormous birds cormorants. It’s a pity, really; cormorants are black. Odd how I found the sparrows incredibly annoying yesterday, yet enjoy the bellows of seagulls. I would also be screaming like that. I love these bellowers and frequently feed them on my windowsill. The fact that they swallow puppies and kittens whole doesn’t seem to bother me. Was it not this winged stomach, capable of digesting everything in the world, that was chanting Richard Bach4?
I don’t usually remember my dreams, but today’s became an exception. I had to not only write it down, but also send it to my best friend. After all, I had a very demanding dream. It made me memorise it word for word, persistently repeating the text:
“Sleep resembles a dinosaur egg. Put it in water and wait. Better in the evening. If you are lucky, the shell will crack by the morning, and you’ll see the hatching. Now you see how it swells slowly, but your dinosaur actually grew during your childhood. Images are hidden in words. Do not rush. Let them appear. When you see the picture, pass it on. Copy and send a friend everything, including this blinking green text ‘THIS IS NOT A DREAM!’”
Before sending, I quickly concocted a neon gif for dramatic effect.
Ugh, nostalgia is torturing me. I need to go to visit one of my favourite pets.
Meet Trico from The Last Guardian!5
Oops… It took all day. And evening…
Nightmare
I hate mornings! Looks like my defence mechanisms have officially broken down. I know what dream I had yet again. I feel this gross sensation. It’s not only in me, but everywhere. As though I ate raspberry with a flea in it, only the mouth is my room. After all, my nightmare happened right here. I want to go back and disable this “dream saving” feature. Where is the “clear” button? I need to get rid of this!
They broke in in the morning, waving some kind of lurid piece of paper called a “Lease Agreement”. They placed their things and started cooking breakfast. A whole tribe! Children were shouting at each other and fighting. Adults were no better. I’m lying. They didn’t do anything bad. They just lived their typical energetic life: stormy, ebullient, with the smell of garlic and meatballs.
I stood and looked at them, numb with horror. My house. My shelter. My mink! I can’t seem to live without it, and now, there are strangers in it! They don’t even acknowledge me, and there’s nothing I can do about that. I can’t even scream.
It was as though I died, and my apartment was rented out.
In this nightmare, I was a disembodied ghost, unable to prove my existence and kick out the strangers. Even after waking up, I couldn’t stop thinking about the horror I’d experienced. I can still smell the aroma of their cooking. Well, I can get rid of this stench! All we need is a lighter. I love to watch the bluish smoke of the sticks sway in the air. Mmmm, vanilla! I seem to understand dogs now, and their obsession with marking territory. This is my house, and it will smell my way!
How the tables have turned: the night guests are now ghosts, which I have smoked out of my house successfully. The dream awakened my protective instincts. It’s stupid, but suddenly I wanted to bury the teeth and claws of some faithful and brave defender under the threshold. Evidently I’m not fully awake yet, if such crazy ideas are coming to my head. Oh god, the first time I saw my defender was on the beach next to my ruined castle! He bit through that pink heel and came back to me. My fearless mongoose!
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