Mission 777 Possible. Marina Sprouz

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      Then some force wanted me to call Alex, and I was absolutely sure that I wanted this. I suggested meeting to Alex, maybe he wouldn’t have decided, but some unknown force made me cautiously offer first. I have a small private office in the center of town, we’ll meet there. We agreed on the time, and Alex promised to come. The meeting time has come. I am already waiting… the meeting is at fourteen o’clock, maybe he will break away between training sessions and come. As promised. There are my icons in the office that I brought from the Svyatogorsk Monastery, they will protect us. He will come.

      It’s already 2:10 PM… I’ll wait a little longer, he’s delayed. If it didn’t work out, he would have called. It’s 2:35 on the clock… He’s not here. He won’t come… Marianna plunged into emptiness, not even despair, it’s death.

      I’m dead… A strange feeling when you die. I was still walking down the street, doing something, but I’m dead. I’m gone now. He didn’t come, and it doesn’t matter why: “whether he had a horse, or didn’t know the way, mother wouldn’t let him…” – like in the Ukrainian song. It makes no sense to me now, he doesn’t need me. I came home, sat down on a chair, put my hands in my hair, and began to squeeze my head. Phone call. It’s him. Marianna grabbed the phone.

      A busy silence on the line, sounds, – Marianna, sorry, it didn’t work out… – Alex mumbled – pause, – There was a meeting… – Alex justifies himself.

      – I understand… it’s okay, these things happen, – Marianna said in a dull voice.

      The conversation ended.

      I understand he lied, just didn’t want to come, but he called, felt that I was “tearing my hair out.” It doesn’t matter anymore… already… I’m dead.

      “Turquoise sky – blue sky,

      Love froze with white frost.

      And when love left – the colors of red,

      Our rose faded – all withered…”

      Like Smoke

      Forgive him – for his lack of love,

      For all the torment and pain,

      His eyes and fair hands —

      You’ll remember them in winter time.

      Forgive him – for his simplicity,

      Of the human soul, so immature;

      And for lacking bold impulses —

      Like the forceful flow of a man.

      Forgive him – for his lack of love,

      For his indifference and neglect,

      And for your nights’ suffocation,

      From your tears, “broken” into blood.

      Forgive him – you release him…

      Let him be happy and healthy,

      And his lack of love – you’ll recognize;

      Towards you it will return – as love.

      ***

      He doesn’t give you flowers,

      And doesn’t drink in brotherhood;

      Without him you’re worn out,

      He doesn’t come, doesn’t appear in dreams.

      I’ll howl like a wolf,

      I’ll pine and drown

      In tears, I’ll shatter my sleep,

      Like a tightly strung string.

      I’ll forget and curse,

      All the flowers not given,

      That stranger, like the moon’s dream,

      And mine, like a dog’s life…

      At dawn – dawn burns,

      Boundless – without embrace,

      Living without him is in vain,

      What do you breathe, what do you eat?

      He won’t give you flowers,

      Won’t come and won’t be here,

      In the glowing sky – to freeze,

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