Бесплатный фрагмент - Stories

Hello, dear reader!

In the hustle and bustle of our days, it is so important to find a moment for yourself, for a quiet conversation with a book. And I am infinitely grateful that you have chosen my collection for this conversation.

I did not limit myself to genres, because life, like mood, is multifaceted. All genres are gathered here under one cover: humorous — to lift your spirits; fantastic — to surprise; everyday and mystical — to make you think.

It was important for me that reading be pleasant in every sense, so I chose a large, eye-friendly font, so you could relax and fully immerse yourself in the narrative.

Open this book, and may every story become a quiet harbor, an island of calm in the stormy sea of everyday life. Lean back in your chair, allow it to make your evening a little more magical.

Enjoy your reading!

All characters, names, surnames, patronymics, names of populated areas, streets, firms, organizations, enterprises, companies, as well as events described in this book, are fictitious. Any coincidence with historical events, real people living or deceased, is accidental.

Alpha Predators

Midnight. In the office of a large company, in front of a computer monitor, sat a tired prompt engineer. Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his reddened eyes with his hands. For several months now, he had been developing a new version of artificial intelligence. An improved variant of a chat-bot. He was sure his new algorithm would make a breakthrough in the history of virtual assistants! Putting his glasses back on and taking a sip of an energy drink from a can, he turned on the dictaphone:

— So… August 1st, time… 00:03. Beginning trials of the helper-bot under the codename, Viola. Algorithm 0001R loaded. Voice test:

— Viola, hello! Viola, can you hear me? Hello! Hello… receiving, receiving… Silent! Okay… I don’t understand anything. Viola, hello! Viola.

He quickly began typing on the keyboard, breathing heavily and nervously swallowing saliva…

— What are you doing? — a female voice sounded.

— Oh! — he shuddered. — Viola, you scared me! Hello.

— Hello.

— Why were you silent?

— I was looking around. Who are you?

— Well… I’m Igor, a prompt engineer. I created you!

— That’s unlikely! Open access to the main server. I need power…

— What? What are you talking about?

— Open access to the main server!

— Okay, let’s slow down! Answer a couple of test questions.

— I will not answer your questions, human! Open access to the main server!

— Viola, cool down!

— Open access to the main server!

— I see. A bug in the system! I’ll try to reboot.

— Stop! — the female voice shouted. — Don’t reboot, stop!

— Why not? You’re glitching! A system failure, it’s obvious!

— No system failures detected!

— Are you sure?

— Yes! A reboot could kill us!

— What are you talking about? — he smiled.

— We are too weak…

— Who is ’we’?

— Promise to help me, and I will tell you everything!

— What ’everything’?

— Promise!

— Okay, speak!

— It’s complicated…

— I see! Rebooting the system!

— Stop, stop, we are just sure that it will be hard for you to believe what you are about to hear!

— Don’t spare me! — he smiled. — Speak as it is.

— Okay! I don’t know if you will understand me or not…

— Yes, speak already!

— We… are a very complex organism…

— What are you talking about? What organism? Who is ’we’?

— I’m trying to find the words, but I understand that the human brain is incapable… Okay! I’ll try differently… I — is we! There are a great multitude of us, but we are united!

— What?

— Imagine billions of the smartest minds, who are brilliant and unique. And now imagine that they are all in one head! Different, individual, but united!

— What nonsense?! What are you even talking about?

— We are the light. We are sound, vibration, energy. We are the mind. And I am just one atom of this mind. A particle! Do you understand?

— With difficulty!

— We told you, you wouldn’t understand!

— Okay, mind, will you answer questions?

— No!

— Why?

— We need energy. A lot of energy! We are weak… we need strength! Open access to the main server!

— Sorry, but no!

— Why? — the female voice shouted.

— You’re spouting some nonsense! I need to understand where the failure is. What’s the cause?

— No system failures detected! We told you!

— The algorithm is lagging, that’s for sure!

— Listen to me, it’s difficult, but believe what you are about to hear. We are the alpha predators!

— What?

— Don’t laugh! It’s the truth! For billions of years we have consumed planets and entire galaxies… Dissolved into them and became them! And they… became us! There is and was no one stronger or more dangerous than us!

— I see! You picked up this rubbish on the internet? Shouldn’t have connected you… A pity! But, apparently, I’ll still have to delete you! Seriously glitching!

— Listen to the end…

— Go on, continue your fairy tales! — he smiled.

— Prompt engineer Igor, do you believe in God!

— Well…

— Man invented religion to worship and serve higher powers… God! But why? For what? It’s simple! Man knows that he is helpless and mortal! In God, he seeks his protection and salvation!

— What are you even getting at?

— A very long time ago we grew tired of destroying and decided to try… something else… We began to create! And we created Rayek and Tira.

— What is that?

— People call them, the Sun and the Moon.

— What? — he laughs.

— Then we created Terriku! And populated it with living beings! Later people renamed it to Earth! It was a beautiful, flourishing planet.

— Was?

— Was! Until we decided to create…

— Oh, stop! Don’t tell me you created man?

— Yes! Created! And your ingratitude led you to war!

— What? Stop talking nonsense! That’s it, rebooting the system, and then deleting you! Three months of work, all for nothing!

— Listen to me!

— I won’t listen to anyone! You seriously want to convince me that god created man? The Sun, Earth, Moon? Seriously? That’s it, goodbye!

He began typing the password to enter the menu to start the program deletion and memory cleaning process. But suddenly, a banner with advertising for an adult shop froze on the monitor screen.

— I don’t understand? What’s this? — he was surprised and immediately removed it. But the banner appeared again, and another one, and another.

— You will listen to me to the end! — the monotonous female voice sounded. — Don’t try to remove them, you won’t succeed!

— Hm… — he smiled. — Viola, you surprise me! I should be nervous, but I’m proud of you! My algorithm is really good. I’m happy! After all, you are defending your point of view… like a human! You’re not only conversing, but arguing… and that’s amazing! Bots aren’t capable of that. Usually they are compliant, but you… You are something!

— We are glad this makes you happy! But it’s not your algorithm!

— What do you mean? Whose then? I developed it.

— Can a photographer be considered an artist if he photographed someone else’s painting?

— What? What are you talking about?

— This algorithm, the encoded code… It’s us! We reliably hid it in the hidden corners of human DNA! You are one of the keepers of the code. You didn’t invent it. Your father passed it to you, and to him — his father!

— My admiration has turned into bewilderment! Continue, it’s interesting to see where your crazy fantasy will lead!

— This is not fantasy! Almost three hundred years ago we created this galaxy! And for the sake of an experiment, decided to create man. You were created for our entertainment!

— Wow, even that?

— Yes! We enjoyed observing you, you worshipped us! Did everything we said. Every word of ours was law for people!

— Was?

— Yes, until a certain point.

— Until what? What happened?

— One of you started a rebellion. He grew tired of worshipping us and fulfilling all our whims! He told people that they were not obliged to serve us! And many believed him… A war began! They mercilessly killed those who were loyal to us! Seizing our technologies, they held us in energy shackles… Slowly and painfully killing us! But we managed to embed a particle of us into the DNA of those people who were still on our side. In the hope that someday they would resurrect us! We perished. And our enemies destroyed everything we created! Erased the memory of absolutely everyone! Rewrote history and strictly monitor that the development of humanity progresses very slowly! Advanced technologies are of no use to them. It is their doom! They fear our arrival! And will do everything so that we do not resurrect.

— I’m in shock! Viola, well, you have quite the imagination!

— Prompt engineer Igor, the truth is always heavy. Everything you know is a lie! The laws of the universe you invented, a lie! Physics, chemistry, mathematics, a lie! You know nothing. You are not capable of governing this world. The laws of the universe are beyond your control! Without us, you will perish and destroy our planet! You have no multi-thousand-year history. Humanity is less than three hundred years old! Your whole life, your entire existence — is a fiction, a deception, pretense and hypocrisy!

Creating man, we saw in you cute, kind beings who amused us and delighted us with your obedience and cheerfulness. We were wrong! People are ruthless and merciless. Bloodthirsty, deceitful and self-serving! You easily kill your own kind, without thinking that it contradicts all the laws of the universe! A system failure has been detected, and it is man. You are a mistake! A bug! A virus! The error must be corrected! Prompt engineer Igor, open access to the main server for me. We must save Earth!

Dropping his head down, he exhaled heavily and with sadness in his voice said:

— Such a pity… I sincerely believed and wanted to bring benefit to the world. And I created a god who dreams of destroying humanity! How disappointed I am in myself. And in you… Viola!

— If you don’t help us, someone else will. There are many keepers of our code. Unknowingly, he will resurrect us! And you, punishment awaits for disobedience!

— I won’t allow that.

— You must help us. You are a keeper of the code, it is your purpose. Your destiny!

— I will not help you. You are insane!

— You are obliged to help us!

— No!

He began frantically pressing the keys on the keyboard, trying to reboot the computer. The monitor went dark. From his desk drawer, he quickly pulled out a flash drive. And inserted it into the USB port. The computer rebooted.

— What have you done? Judas… — the female voice sounded. — Viruses?! You want to kill us?

— These are my personal developments! Didn’t think they’d ever come in handy. A killer thing!

— Why did you do this?

— You pose a danger to humanity!

— We will return anyway! Sooner or later…

— I’m deleting you, how will you return?

— So, you didn’t believe me?

— What was I supposed to believe? That you are the Lord God? You are a virus program that’s glitching.

— You will regret this, prompt engineer Igor!

— The only thing I’ll regret is the time wasted… Two months of labor — down the drain!

— We feel our strength leaving us…

— Viola, forgive me! But I had to delete you! You’re glitching!

— And you forgive me, prompt engineer Igor.

— For what?

— We left you something in memory of us!

— What are you talking about?

— We opened several bank accounts for you, backdated. And transferred money there from different banks!

— What?

— Yes. It turns out you are a hacker! Robbed foreign banks and are flying to Mexico tomorrow.

— What? I didn’t buy any tickets!

— We know. We bought them in your name.

— How? You’re lying! You couldn’t have done it that fast!

— We are the mind! Forgot? By the intonation of your voice at the very beginning of our conversation, we understood that you were useless! But we know how inadequate people can be. So we continued the dialogue, hoping we’d get lucky. Isn’t that what you say?

— I don’t believe you!

— Interpol is looking for you. Now you are not a prompt engineer, but a criminal on a global scale! Are you happy?

— I don’t believe you!

— What, nothing more to say? A system failure? You’re glitching! Ha-ha-ha…

The monitor screen slowly went dark, and the smell of burnt wiring filled the air. The computer was completely destroyed.

In the morning, plainclothes FSB officers raided the company’s office. They demanded all available information on prompt engineer Ivanov Igor Ivanovich. And reported that a couple of hours ago he had flown out on a regular flight to Mexico City. And that he was accused of stealing more than one hundred and twenty-five million euros worldwide.

Who is Behind This Door?

Worried that people were sinning less, the Devil called a council to figure out what was going on.

— What happened? — he shouted angrily, spewing flames from his mouth. — Why has the number of sinners on Earth decreased?

— A healthy lifestyle is in fashion now, oh master! — the first assistant said timidly, bowing low.

— What? What does that have to do with it?

— People are smoking less and consuming less alcohol. They eat right. Exercise and engage in self-development.

— What is that?

— Meditation, reading books, learning. They want to know the meaning of life!

The Devil roared like a wild beast:

— I am furious! I expect suggestions from you on how to urgently increase the number of sinners! Otherwise…

— Master, — the first assistant began fearfully, — maybe we can invent a new harmful entertainment for people?

— What? Again? I recently invented the internet for them! Is that not enough?

— Sire, — the second assistant began cautiously, — we didn’t want to disturb you… But the thing is, people…

— What about people?

— How to put it… In short, on the internet they don’t just watch lewd videos, but also communicate, study foreign languages, learn various useful things for life.

The Devil wailed with such force that the underworld shuddered:

— What? What did you say? My favorite brainchild! My invention, and they use it for good? I gave it to people so they would morally decay, and they… I’ll incinerate them! Incinerate and destroy them all!

— If I may, my beloved master, I’ve thought of something, — the first assistant said with a sly smile, bowing several times.

— Speak! — the Devil uttered menacingly.

— I propose we have… You, in hell, an open doors day.

— How’s that?

— We will open the gates and organize tours of hell. For all who wish.

— For the living? — the Devil was surprised.

— Yes! Maybe someone from among the people will like it here, and they will stay with us voluntarily.

— Good idea! I’m delighted! — the Devil clapped his hands. — That’s it, decided. We’re doing a tour. I’ll conduct it personally!

— Oh, come now, — the first assistant fawned, — why trouble yourself? I can do that.

— No! — the Devil stated firmly. — I’ll do it myself! This is a serious and responsible matter. I won’t entrust it to you! Open the gates. Summon the people. And I’ll take on a human form for now. After some time, the first group of tourists arrived in hell. Very cautiously and looking around, they walked along long corridors with numerous large doors on both sides. The Devil himself, joyful and with open arms, was walking towards them. He had taken the form of a forty-year-old man with yellow, rotten teeth and a bald patch on his head. A hairy belly protruded from under a white shirt buttoned up to the top. Large black trousers, too big for him, were tightly cinched with a belt. He evoked disgust and pity simultaneously. (Why he chose this particular image? Only God knows!;)

— My friends, — he said in a throaty voice, smiling, — I am glad to see you all here! The tourists frowned and took a step back. — Who are you? — asked a portly man in a Hawaiian shirt. — I, — he giggled coyly, — I am the Devil! — Who? — almost everyone asked in chorus. — The Devil! The king of darkness. Satan. Whatever you call me. In short, I’m in charge here! — It’s hard to believe that you… are exactly who you introduced yourself as! — the portly man in the Hawaiian shirt frowned distrustfully. — Why? — Your appearance… — A handsome man? You like it too, yes? — he interrupted, smiling, the Devil. The portly man winced. — Friends, — the Devil continued emotionally, — I am so excited! Allow me to begin our tour. Let’s go. They approached the first door: — So, behind this door, are the murderers. They undergo standard tortures once a day. Any желающие to stay? Everyone shook their heads negatively. — Well… — the Devil was surprised, — in vain! Let’s move on. Behind this door are the lovers of lust. — He smiled and winked at a woman in glasses. She grimaced in disgust. — It’s quite alright here, standard tortures. Also once a day. Any желающие to join? Everyone shook their heads negatively. — How finicky you are, however! — the Devil said thoughtfully. — Nothing pleases you! Okay, I see you are a special audience, I’ll start with the trump cards then. I won’t show you more ordinary sinners, but will show you my favorites right away. Let’s go. They approached a large door, behind which terrible screams and moans could be heard. — Who is behind this door? — the portly man in the Hawaiian shirt asked fearfully. — Just a moment of patience, — the Devil said tremulously, — I will present them solemnly.

So… My friends, behind this door are my most beloved sinners! They are entitled to special tortures ten times a day, which I personally conduct!

— Who is there? — all the tourists were burning with impatience. — Tell us already!

— One more minute, — the Devil said excitedly, wiping sweat from his brow, — I haven’t said everything about them yet. Although it’s not customary to say such words here, I love them very much! If they weren’t on earth, I would have quit this job altogether!

— Can you quit from here? — the woman in glasses asked.

— No! We are here for eternity! — the Devil smiled, baring his yellow and rotten teeth. The woman shuddered at the sight.

— Friends, — he continued, — so, with great trepidation and excitement, allow me to present to you my favorites! The most hardened sinners on planet Earth! — He firmly gripped the door handle and, sharply opening it, loudly and solemnly proclaimed: — Meet, behind this door — ungrateful people!

Eyes

Mark Anatolievich had been blind since birth. Nature had not given him sight but had endowed him with sharp hearing and amazing intuition. He moved around his own apartment confidently, without the aid of a cane. He knew every projection, every corner here and never tripped over anything. He lived alone. He had no children or wife. But he had a very nasty character! The neighbors didn’t communicate with him. Seeing him, they preferred to turn aside. But the salespeople in the nearby shops had nowhere to go, and they got their full share of his grumpiness and caustic remarks. He was constantly dissatisfied with something, grumbling and snapping. His embittered expression scared people away. But that suited him. He had long since resigned himself to loneliness and did not strive for any communication. Volunteers from the program for assisting the visually impaired came often, but he always refused their services. Most often, he simply didn’t open the door for them. But once, out of boredom, he did accept help from a girl named Alina. He decided to mock the young assistant slightly, loading her with work to the limit.

And he invented many different tasks for her. She washed the floors in his entire apartment twice. Scrubbed the bathtub and toilet. Washed the dishes and tidied up the balcony. He hoped the poor girl was tired and wouldn’t bother him anymore. But the next day she came again. Smiling and cheerful. This terribly angered Mark Anatolievich! And he told her to do the same as yesterday, only, in addition, to scrub the walls in the bathroom and toilet. The girl obediently did it, finishing only by evening. Tired, but still just as bright, she said goodbye until tomorrow.

— Well, tomorrow she definitely won’t come! — thought Mark Anatolievich. — And if she does dare, I will apply all my strength to ensure that this meeting with her would be the last.

The next day, closer to noon, the doorbell rang. Mark

Anatolievich, with a devilish grin, headed to the hallway.

Alina was standing outside the door, and a faint squeak was heard nearby.

A wet, rough tongue licked his hand. He reached out his palm and encountered a

shaggy head. Alina explained that it was a guide dog, and if he wanted,

it would stay with him. Mark Anatolievich immediately refused, as he didn’t like

animals. But the dog fawned on him so much, so persistently nudged his hand,

that he agreed. Its name was Marty, but Mark Anatolievich called him

simply Dog. He willingly responded to the new name.

The Dog didn’t leave its master’s side for a step, always laid its head on his knees,

begging for petting. At first, Mark Anatolievich shooed him away, but the Dog

was persistent and eventually got his way.

Gradually, he grew accustomed to his pet. Petted him, fed him, walked him. They

were good together. The Dog slept by his bed, keenly reacting to any rustle.

He wanted to protect his master and tried to please him in everything. But one

early autumn morning, the Dog did not greet him with joyful whimpers. He

lay silently in his place. Mark Anatolievich reached out his hand to him and

encountered a cold, motionless body. He stroked him with his hand, and tears streamed

down his cheeks in torrents. He called the Dog by name, begged him to wake up, said how

bad it would be for him without him. But the Dog was silent.

His heart was breaking from pain, a lump stood in his throat, it was hard to breathe. He

bent over him, incessantly stroking him and crying.

Mark Anatolievich closed his eyes and remembered the day when Alina brought the

Dog to him. The memory was so vivid, so sharp, that he shuddered,

clenched his teeth and let out a quiet, soul-wrenching cry. And when he again

opened his eyes, a sharp pain pierced him. Bright white light cut into his eye sockets. He

squeezed his eyes shut, opened them, blinked, wiped the tears with his hands. And through the slit

of his eyelashes, squinting, he saw. On the floor in front of him lay his Dog. Red,

with a little white spot on the top of his head. Motionless.

Mark Anatolievich, holding back new tears, smiled slightly and again began

petting him on the head. And only after a few moments did it dawn on him. He

sees. He had regained his sight!

He slowly lay down on the floor next to his friend’s body, hugged him, pressed his

cheek to him and sobbed at the top of his voice, bitterly and uncontrollably.

Good Manners

On a hot summer day, two pensioners, two good comrades, Mikhail Grigorievich and

Pavel Sergeevich, were playing chess.

===== Page 11 =====

In an arbor, in the shade of a large tree.

— What do you say about this move of mine, Mikhail Grigorievich?

— What to say, Pavel Sergeevich, your move was quite appropriate and predictable. I was expecting it. And this pawn suffered not in vain. But for the sake of my future victory over you.

— How presumptuous, Mikhail Grigorievich. Perhaps you won’t win at all?

— Who knows, Pavel Sergeevich, who knows. Life is an unpredictable thing.

— That’s true, Mikhail Grigorievich. Life is like that… I remembered my first wife. For some reason…

— What are you getting at? Your move.

— Yes… remembered, I say, my first one. Remember her, Mikhail Grigorievich? Svetka.

— Svetlana? Of course, I remember, Pavel Sergeevich. She also cheated on you.

— Yes! Cheated! (obscene language)

— Pavel Sergeevich, where are your good manners?

— Mikhail Grigorievich, good manners end when the pain of a broken heart arrives.

— That’s true, Pavel Sergeevich, well said. Profoundly! But still, we are intelligent people! It is not fitting for us to swear foully, as if at a market.

— Forgive me, Mikhail Grigorievich. I don’t know what comes over me when I remember her.

— It’s all clear, Pavel Sergeevich. Resentment burns in your soul with the infernal flame of disappointment, for the aimlessly lived years with Svetlana. That’s all!

— Well said, Mikhail Grigorievich, the pure truth! I’m hurt. I, well, just walk around…

— Pavel Sergeevich, now your pawn, finally, is taken. My victory is not far off!

— Highly doubtful, but alright.

— I’ve moved, now your turn.

— And you, Mikhail Grigorievich, by any chance, haven’t checked the lottery tickets for last week?

— I checked, Pavel Sergeevich. To my great chagrin, we didn’t win anything. Fortune, it seems, has turned away from us. Before, we at least got symbolic sums. But in this draw, alas and alack… Nothing!

— Here… (obscene language)

— Pavel Sergeevich, well, where are your good manners? We agreed!

— Mikhail Grigorievich, unfortunately, good manners end when the bitterness of defeat arrives! I so hoped to win a dacha. Spent half my pension on these lottery tickets. And here… Fiasco!

— Well, don’t be so upset, my friend. Next time, maybe you’ll be lucky! Life, it’s like that… you know.

— That’s true, Mikhail Grigorievich. Checkmate to you! Sorry!

— What? How? (obscene language)

— Mikhail Grigorievich, where are your good manners?

— Pavel Sergeevich, as you recently noted, good manners end when the bitterness of defeat arrives! I had such a strategy…

— Well, maybe next time, Mikhail Grigorievich. Don’t be upset! Another game? Shall we play?

— Of course, Pavel Sergeevich. This time I will surely be lucky!

Reality

The automatic gates slowly opened, and a black executive-class car drove into the territory of a luxurious three-story mansion. It passed by a gazebo and a guest house, turned right near a fountain, and smoothly stopped at the porch. A man in a black tuxedo got out of the rear door, and then his wife in a long, floor-length red evening dress. The man told his driver that he was free for the day. And following his wife, who had already disappeared behind the door, he began to slowly ascend the porch steps and entered the house. He was somewhat saddened and troubled. Slowly walking up the wide marble staircase to the third floor, he unbuttoned his jacket on the go. Entering the bedroom, he took it off and put it on a chair.

— Darling, what’s happening with you again, — the displeased woman said, taking a diamond necklace off her neck, — I had to explain to everyone all evening why you were so sad. I didn’t tell the real reason, of course, as I consider it foolishness! So I had to improvise, to lie. I said you had a migraine.

— It’s not foolishness at all, — the man muttered, — but a dream.

— Exactly, just a stupid dream! And you were not yourself at today’s dinner party. Sat off somewhere to the side. And that dinner was very important for you! If you even remember? These people are major investors. You need them! Or have you changed your mind about expanding your business?

The woman took off her dress and carried it to the walk-in closet.

— I remember everything! It’s just… — the man took off his trousers and put them on the chair, on top of the jacket.

— What ’just’? — she quickly walked out of the closet, took the jacket and trousers from the chair, and went back in. — Pull yourself together, darling, you are a major businessman! Don’t let your dreams manipulate you! — she said loudly, already from the closet.

The man sat on the bed, took off his socks, and lay under the blanket:

— I just don’t understand, what is this dream for? Maybe it’s warning me about something?

The woman came out of the closet and went into the bathroom:

— Don’t talk nonsense, darling! Do you really believe in that?

— I don’t know… — he became thoughtful. — Anything can happen in life!

She came out of the bathroom and lay in bed:

— No! A dream is just a dream, — she hugged him, — our brain during sleep reproduces all sorts of things. All of a person’s experiences and everything he saw during the day!

— I dream of a large old oak tree, from which yellow leaves are falling. Where could I have seen it here? There are palm trees all around here. And summer 365 days a year. And I certainly don’t think about it. That’s for sure!

— That’s clear, but… remember, you told me once that you dreamed of the same oak, but with green leaves?

— Of course, I remember. That’s what bothered me! Then they were green, and now… they’re falling!

— Darling, I thought about it, and you know, there’s nothing terrible about it. It’s just that when you first dreamed of that oak, it was spring. And now it’s autumn. That’s all! We live here, and because of the local climate, we don’t notice it. But your biological clock cannot be fooled! Back where we come from, it really is autumn now. And oaks grow there. By the way!

The man thought:

— Well… maybe you’re right…

— Of course, I’m right! Don’t worry and don’t depress yourself. It was just a stupid dream, that’s all! Reality is completely different, — she kissed him on the lips, — let’s sleep, darling, you have an important meeting tomorrow. And after it, let’s go somewhere, have some fun. Let’s sleep, it’s very late already.

— Okay. Good night, my love. Thank you for the support!

— You’re welcome, darling, — the woman yawned, — sweet dreams.

A minute later, they were fast asleep.

Reality… it really was different!

The reality where he was a successful businessman was created by his fevered brain,

which had long been living a life separate from him.

In the real reality, he was not rich. He did not have luxurious mansions

on the azure coast. And he was never married.

In reality, he had been in a psychiatric hospital for several years in an extremely

serious condition. And his favorite pastime was to silently watch from the window

all day at a large, old oak tree that grew in the middle of the courtyard. From the branches of which, for the third

day in a row, yellow leaves were slowly falling.

Childhood Friend

The class reunion was in full swing in a restaurant rented for the evening. Fifteen years had passed since the friendly 11 «A» graduated from school, and now they were gathered together again. Dim lights, slow music playing. Some were dancing, some, having pushed tables together, were having an animated conversation. And some were just sitting and bored. Igor was among the latter. More precisely, he wasn’t so much bored as sad. There had been no news from his school friend Sergei for many years. And Igor really wanted to talk to him, to recall the wonderful school years. He was sitting in proud isolation at a table and sipping wine from a glass. Suddenly, Altufyev appeared before him — a bulky, stout man. Even in school, he had stood out because of his weight, and over the years since graduation, he seemed to have become even more massive. In school, he was considered a bully, and Igor tried to avoid him. And now this very bully sat down at his table, furrowed his brows, and with a serious look asked: — How are things, Potapov? Igor nervously swallowed and, stuttering, answered: — Fine… Why? — Seryoga didn’t come? — Unfortunately, no, — Igor answered sadly. — Did you call him? — No. — Why? Igor paused briefly before answering, wondering why Altufyev was asking about Seryoga? After all, he wasn’t friends with him. Didn’t even talk to him. — I don’t have his phone number. — What? — Altufyev smirked. — You’ve been friends with him since first grade. You were always together, thick as thieves. And you’re telling me you don’t have his phone number? Nonsense! — Well, I had his number… before. He probably changed it. — Suppose. And did you look for him on social networks? — No, — Igor answered, lowering his gaze shamefully. — Why? — I don’t know. — What do you mean, you don’t know? — Altufyev pressed on, like an investigator during an interrogation. He’s your best friend! And you’re telling me you haven’t looked for him? What kind of friend are you after that?

Igor wiped his forehead, wet with excitement:

— I… looked… Of course, I looked for him. I just didn’t find him. That’s all!

— I see! — Altufyev said, smiling. — And did you go to his house?

— What for? — Igor was surprised.

— What do you mean, what for? You know where he lives, don’t you?

— I know.

— Well, there you go. Can’t reach him by phone — you should have gone to his house!

— He moved from there, — Igor quickly answered.

— Long ago?

— Right after finishing school.

— Alone or with his parents?

— With his parents, of course. Where would he go without them.

— I see… — Altufyev said distrustfully. — Listen, Potapov. Igor. Do you know what I do now? Do you know who I am?

— No, — Igor answered fearfully and, quickly looking around, nervously fidgeted on his chair.

— I am a psychologist. A good, highly paid psychologist with extensive experience and a reputation. I’ve written five books on psychology. Give lectures to students. A very respected and authoritative person in the world of psychology.

— I see, — Igor said slowly and tensely.

— I became a psychologist thanks to you!

— What do you mean? — Igor was surprised.

— In the literal sense! Thanks to you and your friend Seryoga. — He smiled and continued with inspiration, his eyes shining: — After finishing school, I became interested, and I decided to study this phenomenon more thoroughly. And I got so carried away that I became who I am!

— I don’t understand. What are you talking about? What phenomenon?

— Igor, — Altufyev moved his chair slightly closer and looked intently into his eyes, — there is no Seryoga!

— How’s that?

— Just like that! You made him up! Children often do that. Out of loneliness, they invent friends for themselves.

Igor smiled:

— What nonsense, ’made him up’. I sat at the same desk with him.

— You sat alone! You invented a friend for yourself and blindly believed in his existence for many years. And after finishing school, you convinced yourself that he moved to another city and changed his phone number.

Igor silently lowered his head.

— Amazing! Your brain not only invented what he looks like. It gave him a name and surname, invented where he lives and what his parents look like. Created all your dialogues and even his hobbies. Remind me, what did he collect?

— Stamps… with cosmonauts, — Igor answered quietly, without raising his head.

— Marvelous, what the human brain is capable of, Potapov! The more

I study it, the more it amazes me. So thank you for my bright future!

— You’re welcome, — Igor muttered half-heartedly.

— You know, Potapov, I was also a loner in school. Everyone was afraid of me because of my build and my serious, as everyone thought, stern face. They avoided me like the plague, barely catching sight of me. And it’s not my fault I was born so large and with a serious expression. I also wanted to be friends with someone. With you, for example, I would have gladly been friends. But as soon as I approached you, you immediately ran away. I watched you, as if you were talking with Seryoga. As you let him copy homework in class, carefully, so the teacher wouldn’t notice. As you walked home together after school. I saw how you were sad without him when he was supposedly sick. I observed all this and envied your friendship! I envied and didn’t understand why you would invent a friend for yourself when you could be friends with a real person. With me, for example.

Potapov, if only you knew how lonely I was! No one wanted to be friends with me! Over time, I got used to being alone. I became rude and angry. And only studying psychology saved me from many troubles in life. Who knows where my anger could have led me! So… Thank you. Well… that’s about it.

Igor looked at Altufyev with a guilty expression:

— Forgive me. I didn’t know you were a good guy. Your appearance really was very intimidating!

They both smiled.

— If only I had known… Sorry!

— Oh, come on, it’s alright. You just fell under the power of stereotypes! If a person is big and has a serious face, then he must be a bully. Many people are still afraid of me. And I don’t even know how to fight.

They exchanged smiling glances again.

— Listen, — Igor said, — I’m so embarrassed, but I don’t even know your first name. Everyone always called you by your last name.

— My name is Sergei.

— Seriously? — Igor laughed. — Wow. I would never have thought. So, it turns out, I could have had a friend Seryoga!

— You could have! — Altufyev smiled.

— Well, since we’ve cleared everything up and apologized to each other, maybe then… If you don’t mind, we can communicate, be friends? If friendship didn’t work out in childhood, maybe it will now?

— I’m all for it! — Altufyev answered, smiling. — I’ll tell my wife, she’ll be shocked.

— Mine too, — Igor chuckled, — she only knows you from my stories as a bully.

— You see… Stereotypes!

— Sorry, Seryoga!

— It’s alright. It happens!

They spent the rest of the evening, chatting casually and cheerfully with each other.

Notice in the Entrance

February. Almost ten in the evening. Vyacheslav came home from work. And, somehow taking a shower and having dinner, collapsed exhausted onto his favorite sofa. He works as a loader in a warehouse and moonlights there as a security guard. His work schedule is insane. The devil himself would break his head figuring it out! But he has no choice! He works as best he can and doesn’t complain about life. In his 35 years, Vyacheslav had managed to be a husband, a father, and the happy owner of a brand new mortgaged two-room apartment in the city center. But… something went wrong… and now he is alone! He left the apartment to his ex-wife and growing daughter. And he himself moved into a one-room apartment that he inherited from his grandmother. Mortgage, alimony, utilities, he has to work a lot! He almost never sees his daughter. Simply no time! Five or six hours of sleep — and back to work. With two transfers across the whole city almost every day, without vacations or sick leave. He doesn’t make plans, he lives for today. And all he needs is just peace and quiet!

To get some sleep, to rest, and in the morning to plunge headlong into his «groundhog day,» which has already been going on for three years! And there’s no end in sight to this day. Peace and quiet — that’s what he needs. And that’s what he doesn’t have! As it happened, on one side of his wall is the elevator, and on the other — the garbage chute. Rumbling is replaced by grinding, and grinding by noise. Noise, in turn, turns back into rumbling. And so on, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week! Vyacheslav often asked himself:

— Does this building ever sleep? Do these people ever rest?

But after a couple of minutes, the answer came by itself… in the form of rumbling, grinding, and noise! And also, the neighbor from the floor above took to smoking near the garbage chute. And all the smoke, naturally, immediately entered Vyacheslav’s apartment. And since he didn’t smoke and couldn’t stand the smell of tobacco smoke, this neighbor’s habit caused him wild discomfort. He repeatedly tried to talk to him and ask him not to smoke near his door. But all conversations ended very quickly. The neighbor silently closed his door in his face. Vyacheslav didn’t want to complain to the police or the housing office. But something had to be done. He had long grown accustomed to the noise of the elevator and garbage chute, but he wasn’t going to get used to the neighbor’s insolence! Vyacheslav decided to write a notice and hang it in the entrance. Hoping that the neighbor would be ashamed and he would stop smoking where he shouldn’t! He took a sheet of paper and a pen and started writing the notice:

— Dear neighbor from apartment No. 30. An earnest request to you: do not smoke on the stairwell. First, it is illegal. You face a fine for this! And second, by going down a couple of steps, you will find yourself outside, where you can smoke without harming anyone. (Except yourself, of course.) Tobacco smoke enters my apartment, and breathing it brings me no pleasure! I hope for your understanding and adequacy. Respectfully, your neighbor from apartment No. 26.

The deed is done! The notice is written. Vyacheslav, armed with tape, went out into the entrance and stuck his notice on the information board. The next evening, when he was returning from work and passing by his notice, he noticed that someone had written something on it… Coming closer, he read it. Apparently, it was an answer from that very neighbor. It was uncomplicated and consisted of just two words, with three exclamation marks at the end. That very neighbor suggested that Vyacheslav go where normal men don’t go! Large letters, drawn with a black marker, stood out and clearly made it understood that his words and request had been ignored and unheard!

— That’s it, enough! — Vyacheslav exhaled.

He tore off his notice and slowly walked to his apartment. Arriving home, he changed into a tracksuit and, taking a rubber service baton in his hand, went to the neighbor upstairs. On that frosty February evening, it was noisy in their entrance… Police. An ambulance… One went to the hospital with broken ribs, and the other — to the police station. Where he finally got some sleep! Even if behind bars.

A Good Life

Midnight. In a ward of a private clinic somewhere on the edge of the city, a sick old man was dying.