«This story happened in Lesosibirsk on the night of 25 October 1996. I well remember this date. For every written word here I answer (says my daughter) a mother’s heart.
It so happened that in Lesosibirsk I was passing through. Had to stay one night and go on to Krasnoyarsk. As usual in such cases, my friend and in the evening moved to the restaurant. After it closed, he hobbles to his home. But the friend’s wife obviously didn’t attend school for noble maidens. Opening the door, she took my friend and her husband by the lapels and jerk yanked across the threshold.
With the guest, that is me, this snake was received. With the words: «For…there are those friends!»threw me under the feet of the bag and slammed the nose of the door.
Outside it was cold and bloody disgusting. The rain fell with the snow. Pulled the North wind. Hiding under the hood of the bus stop, I was thrown under the head bag and lay down on the bench. The station Lesosibirsk is closed for the night. And friends in this city I no longer had.
The watch showed the second half of the night, when on the opposite side of the street loomed the figure of a lone passer-by. The guy was walking to the bus stop. As he approached, he asked, «Kombinatovsky the bus with workers has already passed?»— «No were not». — «Why are you here?»— «Sleep anywhere». «Come with me, I’ll make you. Freeze the same.»
Honestly, I wasn’t even surprised. The world is not without kind people. On the way talked. My new friend told his sad story: «…My wife is dead. Buried three weeks ago. Now living with my brother. Understand can not live in the apartment where we lived. All things remind you of her. Every detail connected with it. And it seems that she is somewhere near… But you don’t care. You’re with her not lived. There and spend the night!»
The apartment was one bedroom, she liked me at first sight. Everywhere — tape recorders, tape recorders, turntables, cassettes, CDs. The only thing that confused me is the portrait. At the end of the room, opposite the window, on the wall hung a large photograph of a woman in a black frame.
Under the portrait on the nightstand stood a glass of vodka covered with a piece of bread. Judging by the photo, the woman was thirty years. «Beautiful. When these die, perhaps, really a pity,» said I to myself. Then put on a tape cassette and fell into a chair.
But something weighed me, did not give to relax and surrender to the music. I felt some internal discomfort. But what? Looking around, I realized. The woman was photographed under such foreshortening, that, in whatever part of the room you were in, she looked at you.
By nature I am a person is not sentimental and in some cases even cynical. So calm attitude to the dead and all sorts of otherworldly worlds. Removing the portrait from the wall steady hand, I took him to the kitchen and put on the floor, turning the picture to the wall.
I was almost asleep when through the enveloping slumber suddenly heard footsteps, slow and shuffling across the floor. So usually go in Slippers when heel wedges slip on the linoleum. Steps could be heard from the kitchen. Then they began to approach. And then I suddenly saw myself as if from outside, eyes of a stranger watching from the corner of the room where I slept.
Through some sort of shimmering twilight clearly drawn room — tape, scattered magazines, mirror, TV — everything in its place. And the sofa and turned away to the wall face, there stood a man. That is, I, Igor Levin. Meanwhile, the footsteps came closer.
Finally, in the doorway appeared the figure in a black cloak. The person was thrown over the hood, disassemble, who is a man or a woman, it was impossible.
The man in black slowly walked into the room and stopped for a moment as if inspecting her. Then slowly moved to the sofa. Approaching the sleeper, he leaned over him.
In this moment the dream (if it was a dream) is gone. I was still lying with his eyes closed, but in a completely common sense. Lay there thinking: «wow, you dream such nonsense!»Open eyes do not want. Suddenly my face was engulfed in a wave of cold air. No, it wasn’t breathing. It was some freezing cold.
Slumber vanished. In a moment came a sense of fear. Feeling as my body stiffens and binds from panic, realizing that in a matter of seconds, I couldn’t help myself, gathering all the will power I opened my eyes and sharply turned his head upwards. Two feet from myself, I saw the face of the dead woman! She leaned forward and looked at me.
Through the window, into the room fell the glare of the streetlights, and I distinctly saw her pallid face, arched eyebrows, a thin nose, sharply defined lips. Not looking up, we looked at each other for about ten seconds. Then the woman straightened, stepped back from the couch and disappeared into the dim room.
Covered with cold clammy sweat, heart pounding, I jerk jumped up from the couch and frantically groping along the wall, began looking for the switch button. The lights came on. The room was empty. The same operation with the light I instantly did in the hallway, the kitchen, bathroom and toilet. Anywhere to anyone! Still not unyav trembling and trying to convince myself that no one was, for some reason I started to check the cabinets and tables.
The wardrobe in the room no one, the kitchen cabinets — one, wardrobe in the hallway… On plastic hangers, hung black women’s hooded cloak! Although I do remember that she had not opened the wardrobe after coming into the apartment. And, therefore, could not see the coat at all. «Maybe just a coincidence, trying to calm down, still tried to convince myself. — Well, I think, had in the suit, and in a cupboard a raincoat. Nothing to worry about. Is.»
So speaking about myself, I wandered into the kitchen.
I stood and smoked, looking out of the kitchen window on the contours of the sleeping city. Smoked and talked about. After the death of the aura and the bio-currents of the deceased remain in the apartment for 40 days. With this fact, scientists do not argue. 40 days has not passed. So her aura is still here. What I’ve seen, that’s for sure.
It’s not a dream. So she came into the apartment. This should be treated calmly. And why was she here? They say that they are dead, if you come, then call yourself. But she did not call. I distinctly remember that name is. Neither gesture nor word have not been invited. Then why did she come to me? What for???
Suddenly, I again felt boring and dreary feeling of fear, emerging somewhere in the abdomen. Someone watched me in the back. I looked around and saw the portrait. The portrait was upside down! I perfectly remember that I put the photo image on the wall.
Finally realizing what was happening, and instantly calmed down, I carefully lifted the portrait carefully, as a year-old child, carried him into a room and almost ceremoniously put in its place.
That night I never fell asleep. Smoking and thinking about life. The and of the…»