Выбросить и выволочь
В грязи весеннего двора
Память, редкостную сволочь,
До смерти пора

И не помнить ничего земного
В лодке по направлению в аид,
Забыть любимого больного,
Излишне здорового на вид.

Забыть и собственные строки,
Разучиться умению писать
Последнее нацарапав в лодке:
«Хватит меня читать».

Сохранившиеся рукописи
Вечный Стикс поглотит.
Глубокий старец в рубище
О выходке той промолчит –

Недалекое будущее.
Сейчас же память выкинуть
Всю бы, до незначительных следов.
Харона, окинутого рубищем,
Не впечатлить малостью годов.
 
Проемность выбитого фрейма
Решительности примет всплеск.
Жизнь – предсказуемо-банальнейшая ферма:
Автоматизм поилок, скотобоен блеск.

И вот, за гранью денности и ночества,
Лодка покинула берег.
Удивлению нет предела!
Изрядно потрепанный одиночеством
На том берегу греясь
Ковалев дожидался Олег.
07.03.2011.

© Copyright: Дмитрий Плазмер, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111030701060

 Когда-то любимому Воланду из чата АТРОПИН.

Не стой напротив выжженных дверей,
Их пепел выветрят столетья
И тучкой мертвых голубей
Сорвутся петли в подземелье.

Пожалуйста, не стой напротив выжженных дверей!
Догорает дом, а угли одеянья.
Обезразличенность твоих очей
Как у воскового изваянья.

Да! Ты много стульев сжег не глядя,
Среди которых был и мой.
Жесткий, близкий и знакомый,
Древесной грея наготой.

Не стой напротив выжженных дверей.
Их воедино слились очертанья.
Ты отпускал своих зверей
Держа меня заведомо на растерзанье.

И что теперь? Воспламененный собственной искрою
Ты догорел до каменного стержня,
А там внутри, истины не скрою,
Садами мир бескраен, океанами безбрежен.

Не стой напротив выжженных дверей!
Здесь был Великий Поджигатель,
Сотворивший за шесть дней
Ужас мира. Мечтатель!
18. 09.2000.

© Copyright: Дмитрий Плазмер, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110062208112

Изоляции толща истину скрыла,
Жилы медные держат поток.
Зажглись потолочные светила.
Не видим электрический ток.

Контакты искрят, окрашены дымом.
Трансформаторных масел неминуем пожар.
Рубильник, проводка остыла.
Разве ты его не включал?

Индустрия погасла, вечная тьма,
Ждут механизмы напряженья в сети.
Эй, признак остатка ума,
Ты все же рубильник включи.
19.05.2010.

© Copyright: Дмитрий Плазмер, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110062208070

Он не разбудит с кофе в руках.
Его часто нет на этой планете.
Мне не цвести в его семенах.
За себя мы утром не в ответе.

В его бунтарской голове
Раздаться б криком неимоверным –
«Возьми меня, меня к себе.
Домой, ведь это верно!»

А он стоял, с зонтом играя
Вдали от мчащихся машин.
«Ты идеал. Ты выходец из рая.
Ты целостен. Ты не рушин» -

Кричу ему, срывая голос
Остолбенев от красоты.
Он стоял, лицом не молод
И бледен как бледны холсты.

Обнять, согреть и защитить –
Для него обычное дело.
В его руках так и хочется жить,
Не прячась – смело.
07.09.2009

© Copyright: Дмитрий Плазмер, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109091200510

Два озера истошного крика,
Вы мне солью душу не рвите.
В ней и так заостренная пика
Звездой путеводной забыта.

Два окна в догоревшую душу,
Мне б не видеть погребальный костер!
Всегдашнее чувство удушья
Магний вспышки стер.

Две бездны одиночества,
Вам не знать бы мой финал…
По абзацам пророчества
Пред Вами маску я не снял.
05.11.2006

© Copyright: Дмитрий Плазмер, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109082506216

Звезда растворяет небо
В пучине алых снов.
Она откусила хлеба
С вампиром лживых снов.

Темнота разводит руки
На ряби серых стен.
Она оставляет звуки
И пепел сыпет, тлен.

Она расщепляет чувства.
Ей окон ведом блеск.
Ее унесло безумство
По тонкой линии леск.
26.02.2004

© Copyright: Дмитрий Плазмер, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109082506081

Алый ветер, знойный ветер
Залетел, разбив окно
И один лишь метр
От подоконника. Темно.

Ветер алый, растворитель,
С ног сбивал и ярость вылил.
Ты герой, ты мой спаситель,
Ярость ветра пересилил.
08.03.2008

© Copyright: Дмитрий Плазмер, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109082506019

Дождь закрыт, цветы на небе.
Ты придешь, разрушив двери
И уснем на стенах башен.
Прозрачность их не красит.

Пустота же их не лечит.
Сохраним мы общий трепет,
А проснемся: утро блекло.
Засыпать на гладких стеклах

Обучил ты равнодушно,
Тенью свет янтарно мерить,
Взглядом взгляд ловить на стрите.
Его вряд ли кто-то встретит.
22.09.2008

© Copyright: Дмитрий Плазмер, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108100503753

Раскинуло лапы кровавое солнце,
Выцвели стены под блеклостью рам.
Обезумели тени в ожидании принца,
Зверям подобно снуют по углам.

Шепчут в надежде уж мертвой:
«Он придет, выбивающий двери,
Пыль растревожит поступью твердой.
Шагом привыкший спокойствие мерить.

Он достанет огромный мачете –
Отец миллиардов воплощенных идей.
Он умело разрубит одиночества сети,
Сплетенные тайно безликостью дней».

Беспричинные звуки сходят на нет,
Не украсит солнце тусклость зеркал
И исходит будто бы свет.
Обезображено тело тем, кто создал.
01.10.2008

© Copyright: Дмитрий Плазмер, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108100503747

Вертикальных могил словесная слабость
Гонит и гонит к лежащим крестам.
Мой друг, печаль и радость.
Я не отпущу тебя, не отдам.

Сквозь леса воспоминаний,
Люд и нежить прошлых лет
Тебя найду снаружи зданий
Зеленым эхом в парапет.

Оглянись сию минуту:
Нет, пространство, газ.
Время прекратилось будто,
Чтоб жест запомнить, гулкость фраз.
16.09.2005

© Copyright: Дмитрий Плазмер, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108100503734

From the week-long heatwave that had seemingly no end, it felt as if there was nowhere to hide on that day. Only the numerous fast-food establishments lining both sides of the street promised the coolness they had in abundance, thanks to the air conditioning units creating a microclimate.
Entering one of them, Demetra picked a cola with ice from the counter, sat down at a table, and turned her gaze toward the street visible through the panoramic window. Cars, in their constant motion, moved on without interruption, almost as if they were hypnotized by a shared rhythm. Pedestrians, too, became a part of this unified tempo, marked only by the predictable pauses dictated by the traffic lights—moments when cars and pedestrians swapped places in their dance, yet, despite it being well past 3 p.m., there were still many people on foot.
Sipping the chilled drink through a straw, Demetra slowly raised her head. The two packets of sugar, left untouched in her pocket, remained in place as she focused on the electronic clock on the wall. Its bright red digits, so vivid that they illuminated the clock’s black casing, shone through the sunlight streaming in from the windows. The time, as it turned out, moved on relentlessly, and those fifteen minutes of 4 p.m. passed by unnoticed, especially in the cool comfort that separated her from the summer heat. Only the third, seconds line of digits counted the moments: twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three—until a blinding flash of white snow struck her eyes, causing complete disorientation.
The sharp transition from the subjective world to the objective one holds the greatest danger of losing your balance. Your body's position before and after the shift may not align, and often, it doesn't. Before, you might not just be walking but crossing the street; before, you might be seated at work or in the comfort of home, practicing mindfulness exercises.
When she fell into the snow, Demetra didn’t feel its coldness, nor its dampness—she felt nothing at all, not even the slightest weakness. Rising to her feet and looking around, she found nothing to anchor her gaze upon, as the white expanse stretched to the horizon, endless, leaving only the option to follow an internal compass, heading west or southwest. For in the objective world, there is no hunger, no thirst, no exhaustion; otherwise, it would be difficult to endure it for billions of years, so that in this time, the passage of time in the subjective world stops—there is simply no time.
— Psi-navigator? — A child’s voice came from somewhere distant. When Demetra turned to look, she saw a boy, drawing something in the snow.
— What?
— Only four types of entities can be here: psi-navigators, schizophrenics, telepathic cartographers working for special services from various countries, and cartographers in general.
— I don’t think I suffer from schizophrenia, — Demetra smiled.
— But you could easily acquire it if you get stuck here for billions of years, holding onto the subjective world, and then return there, again and again, re-experiencing all the emotions and feelings that were lacking here: the satisfaction of hunger, quenching thirst, and the complete rediscovery of lost senses—smell, taste, sight, hearing, and kinesthetic sensations.
— What are you drawing?
— The rune Uruz, so that a shaman comes, strikes the drum, and maybe then, at last, it will rain, gentle and kind.
Demetra looked around, trying to understand why rain would be needed here when there was nothing but the endless white field, with nothing for the eye to rest upon. Then she realized how terribly mistaken she had been! Right behind the boy stood a door, as white as everything else, with a frame she circled curiously. From the northern side, the black door handle was on the right, and on the southern side, it was on the left, able to open either toward or away from her.

От продолжавшейся которую неделю подряд жары, казалось бы, некуда было скрыться в тот день и только расположенные по обе стороны улицы многочисленные заведения фаст-фуда манили заведомо обещанной прохладой, исходящей то создающих микроклимат кондиционеров.
Войдя внутрь, выбрав колу со льдом на кассе и присев с ней за стол Диметра перевела взгляд на улицу, хорошо просматривающуюся через панорамное окно, автомобили за которым гипотонически не останавливались в своем движении, а прохожие были вовлечены в их, один общий ритм, отличавшийся только переключением светофоров пешеходных переходов, с предсказуемой периодичностью создающих паузы между движением автомобилей и пешеходов, которых, не смотря на начало четвертого, было достаточно много.
Допивая сильно охлажденный прохладительный напиток через соломинку она медленно, положив карман входившие в заказ два пакетика сахара, постепенно поднимая голову, фокусировала в тот день внимание на висящих на стене электронных часах, чьи яркие красные цифры, настолько яркие что они подсвечивали черный корпус самих часов, но при этом яркий солнечный свет из окон не затмевал их и не затруднял отображение времени, которое, как оказалось текло неумолимо быстро и эти пятнадцать минут четвертого совершенно не ощущались, в особенности в глубине прохладного комфорта, отделяющего абсолютную идиллию от летнего зноя и только третий, секундный ряд цифр отсчитывал секунды: двадцать одна, двадцать две, двадцать три – и ослепительная яркость белого снега резко ударила Диметре в глаза, что не могло не вызвать состояние полной дезориентации.
В резкой смене субъективного мира на объективный заключается самая главная опасность не удержаться на ногах поскольку положение тела до сдвига может не совпадать и зачастую не совпадает с положением тела после: до можно не просто идти, а переходить дорогу; до можно находиться на работе в сидячем положении или же в комфортной домашней обстановке делать упражнения по усилению осознанности.
Упав в снег, Диметра не ощутила его холода, сырости – она не ощутила ничего, даже какой бы то ни было слабости. Встав на ноги и оглядевшись она не смогла ни за что зацепиться взглядом так как белое поля простиралось до линии горизонта и, казалось, ему не было конца, из-за чего можно было только повиноваться некому внутреннему компасу и идти согласно внутренним ощущениям на запад или юго-запад, ведь ни голода, ни жажды, ни усталости в объективном мире не существует, иначе бы было проблематично находиться в нем миллиарды лет таким образом, что в это время течение времени в субъективном мире останавливается – его не происходит.
— Пси-навигатор? — Откуда-то издалека раздался детский голос и когда Диметра направила в его сторону взгляд она увидела пытающего что-то нарисовать на снегу мальчика.
— Что?
— Только четыре типа сущностей могут здесь находиться: пси-навигаторы, шизофреники и выступающие в роли картографов телепаты, работающие на спецслужбы разных стран картографы.
— Шизофренией я вроде бы не страдаю, —
 Диметра улыбнулась.
— Но ее легко приобрести, если застрять здесь на миллиарды лет сохраняя привычку к субъективному миру и вдруг вернуться туда, вновь и вновь переживая все чувства и эмоции, которых так здесь не хватало: удовлетворение голода, утоление жажды, полное обретение забытого набора обонятельных, вкусовых, визуальных, аудиальных и кинестетических ощущений.
— А что ты рисуешь?
— Руну Уруз, чтобы пришел шаман, удар ил в бубен и может хоть тогда наконец пойдет дождь, добрый и ласковый. 
Диметра огляделась по сторонам в попытке понять зачем здесь нужен дождь если кроме бескрайнего белого поля, в котором глазу не за что зацепиться, ничего нет, после чего она изумилась тому насколько сильно ошибалась! Прямо за спиной мальчика красовалась не менее белая как все остальное дверь с проемом, который она изучающе обошла со всех сторон: с северной стороны черная ручка на двери была

"A trance and Obsession – the diagnosis of F44.3 on MKB-10.
Frustration at which there is a temporary loss of both feeling of personal identity, and full understanding surrounding. In certain cases separate acts are operated by other personality, spirit, the deity or "force". The attention and understanding can be limited or focused on one-two aspects from a direct environment and the limited, but repeating set of movements, rods and statements is often observed. Here only those trances which are involuntary or undesirable have to join and complicate daily activity because arise or remain also outside acceptable situations religious or other kulturalno", - rushed in the head Dimeters quicker than the coming water whose blue ripples even before contact enveloped some strange and inexplicable power, is associative mysterious fog of a mental attraction.
– You look bad, Dee, – having critically examined from legs to the head Oleg slowly floated on dense air of badly lit elevator shaft up.
– Yes, happened, and better.
– All this from the fact that you so long to me didn;t come. I spoke, you can come when you want, here or in any other point isn;t dependent on space-time stereotypes.
– And where the mine conducts? – the bulbs which were reflected in her eyes, appear, were the only objects of a material world if to consider the fact that actually there is no elevator in the mine and never was.
– In eternity, he settled more conveniently in air.
– It is interesting what is eternity …
– Something pleasantly and never coming to an end. Eternity, eternal life as an immortality synonym through infinitely pleasant repetition of the same day which is most remembered and having the greatest value in relation to lived.
– And if that significant day is not in current, and in one of antecedents, then how I can repeat it directly here?
– All lives are interconnected and there is no difference in what of them are.
Nevertheless in the mine it was a little strange to endure himself and the absent elevator, both the passenger, and the dispatcher on that side of the loudspeaker.
– To me it was never warm as here.
– О, it was necessary to come more often.
– One of my clients just asks about it practically on each consultation.
– And you come together, the mine very long, sometimes, apparently, it will never end.
– But me is more comfortable with you together.
– To admit, and me too.
Having opened eyes under Dimeter water for a long time I couldn;t forget Oleg;s words about eternity and its role in relation to fugacity of the current life.

© Copyright: Дмитрий Пласмер, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №225021401211

- Whose today turn to spill? – suddenly the question escaped at me.
- Washing, - quietly and measuredly he answered, having significantly added – Only …
- Just?.
- There, where we will go … This special place … Promise me two things...
- Well, - I easily agreed.
- The first. Never and under no circumstances release my hand. The second. Don;t listen, don;t trust and under no circumstances don;t follow entities whatever they "benevolent" seemed to you. – Already I spilled a glass it.
- Well, - I agreed again, on a habit leaving an undershirt near a huge pool. – It can be dangerous?
- Yes. But at the correct actions at us it will turn out to catch two-three of very appetizing fields.
Having very firmly squeezed his hand this time I didn;t close eyes – the curiosity got the best of fear. First transparent waves completely absorbed me and the picture immediately was replaced, changing over and over again as at already familiar rewind of a videotape forward. Videla I the rusted fencing with an inscription that the entrance is prohibited, behind it the old, decayed, abandoned building on height eleven floors with long corridors, the obpsharpanny and ornamented walls. The improvised rewind stopped near the wall revetted with a white rectangular tile.
"This hospital – the edge of miracles, came into it and there disappeared!!!" - red letters of an inscription, and lower said in black color:
"It precisely".
The first time goosebumps of fear ran on a back when I noticed the shadows sliding on walls, and except us there was nobody. The second time when from that long corridors of steel empty by sight reaches sounds: steps, rustles, gnashes, shouts, groans, entreaties about the help, monotonous ritual mantras, an echo of the stray dogs whining before death.
- Where we, Oleg? – I whispered for fear.
- Be afraid of nothing. Dee, - it pulled me for itself(himself).
Several minutes later from depth of one of corridors the inhuman voice which isn;t expressing what metal intonations was distributed:
- Mister, at me didn;t leave to hold him. – Immediately in air the anthropomorphous figure of speaking was also slowly shown.
It I was translucent almost through from falling through the glasses of a moonlight which are used up by mysterious runes, stanovyashchy gray passing through his intangible body. Standing at edge of an impressive hole in a floor it slowly receded back, leaving viscous gray marks.
- How could you miss the fresh field? – mixing a regret with rage Oleg approached this being shivering with fear – by sight a hybrid of the person and a shadow. – On your favor I and my companion we will remain hungry …
- But, Mister …
- On knees! – contemptuously Oleg threatened it with a finger, literally stepping on air on the place of a hole in a floor.
Meanwhile the being obediently kneeled.
- Never miss my production, - it spread slender long fingers on the head of a being, slowly, a finger behind a finger getting into a cranium. Contents in his right hand almost completely reminded a human brain except for unnatural dullness and unstable jellylike consistence. Having thrown back the head back it sent jelly to a mouth: cerebellum, occipital beats, temporal, parietal, frontal. Was possible even to consider the subcrustal structures of a brain eaten by it.
Not in forces to observe further I closed eyes, closed ears from heart-breaking mix of inhuman shout with a metal gnash. And everything abated, the shrouding waves of warm air installed in me tranquility, and its voice – confidence.
- Sorry, you shouldn;t have done it at you. Simply … Each slave without due chronic punishment begins to think himself the owner.
- What, don;t apologize. – Oh, what was delightful – to nestle on

- To ask or not to ask? – I thought and I decided. – The doctor, it is possible one question?
- Of course.
- The matter is that one my friend dreams strange, very beautiful person. Dreams are very realistic, he walks with her, talks then she wakes up completely exhausted. What do you think of it?
- Your girlfriend in big danger, - the doctor pricked up the ears. – Take it to me. The matter is that it is similar to share a room. There, the set of the entities, like parasites which are eager to be installed and drink energy lives in darkness.
- And what, independently to remove it how it is impossible?
- It is extremely dangerous.
- Why?
- I had in practice one case.
- Tell.
- Still long ago, in Soviet period, to me the patient came with complaints to the general weakness, nightmares. She complained of the same dream. As if she walks on the deserted village of the childhood with the beautiful young man, every day it thawed literally in the eyes. From her stories it was succeeded to find out that this essence – the night guest – showed only that it wanted to see and said only what it wanted to hear, I looked as the man of her dream, I was afraid of mirrors.
- And what with it became? – unexpectedly I drew a parallel with own dreams.
- She after the long sessions of hypnosis learned to operate partially dreams, deception enticed essence to a mirror then her mind grew dull.
- It is interesting what it she saw there?.
- Do you want to learn my opinion?
- Aha, - I nodded.
- Of course nobody knows it, but … I consider, these entities – guests – only therefore forbid to watch in mirrors that they are actually extremely awful and them can kill, expel their own reflections from a body.

- Here you, Dimeter. Probably you decided to drag me to a mirror?
- Wait, you see everything that happens to me?
- Yes.
- Went, - I took him by hand and brought to the curtained mirror near a tree.
- It isn;t necessary. You aren;t ready yet.
- Nonsense. Now I will pull off a cover about a mirror and everything at last will become clear.
- The billeting, - started back it. – There will be no me – others will come. Melancholy, despondency, cry at the nights without a break – the majority of the leading windows in you are wide open. Don;t do it. Your field already leaves in anywhere, I only drink the 100-th trifle.
- No! – I was ready to bare a mirror.
- I adore you. Don;t do it. – It stopped my hand. – Do you want, you will wake up full of strength today, Darling?
- What?.
- I adore you, Dimetrochka, - he embraced.
In its embraces there was a wish to remain eternally, in its warm caring hands force, beauty proceeding the warm, summer, deserted city was felt. The silence, the soft calming silence were interrupted only зовн, by an almost inaudible thin, almost inaudible rumble of wind in ears.
- Do you hear?
- Wind?
- Yes. It means, the DOOR opened. Undress.
- How? Naked?
- Yes. Don;t hesitate, I one thousand times saw you naked.
Having appeared before it without clothes I habitually stepped in the poured water, having felt its comfortable warmly bare feet, closed eyes and jumped.
The corpse of the young man lay in the unfamiliar apartment on a floor in an unnatural pose, and over it was groundless, gradually moving away to a ceiling a sphere, absolutely white, similar to cotton candy. Oleg very carefully caught him hands and like the same cotton candy, holding with the left hand, right carefully pinched off a piece, chewed and swallowed.
- Try, it is very tasty, - stretched the next piece it.
Together with taste, sweet, but not luscious taste, covered me with a wave: images, symbols, scraps of memoirs of someone;s childhood overflowed completely as

- It is so much recipes?. – I noticed looking at the doctor.
- One half less usual, - she answered setting round stamp on everyone. – You make great success. Good fellow.
- Do you the truth so consider?
- Of course, - she stretched new number recipes. – Look in a window. What do you see?
The barred window of the first floor of a polyclinic office looked at the narrow street filled with from time immemorial hurrying people. Where do all of them hurry?
- I see people, - I answered. – From time immemorial hurrying people, healthy, full of strength.
- Here. Do you want to be as they? Therefore hold, - it put to me in a palm one by one recipes. – It only as a last resort if shadows come again; it in the morning and in the evening; it before going to bed; it on two tablets after a meal.
- They will come again?
I asked about nightmares, actually why I am observed at it, and, naturally, never told about It.
- No, we moved away them, worked. Others will come.
- And it will repeat? – I removed in a pocket recipes.
- Look, - it drew three lines, identical on length, on a leaflet for notes. – Here you, here your reflection, and in the middle as you think that? Darkness! Darkness is very artful, before to be displayed reflection takes place eighteen of its layers. Now you are rather healthy person – you direct the reflection, you talk to him, but it is worth tarrying, distracting slightly and reflection will already direct you, to become your movements, to order that to you and how to do. First you won;t notice it.
- And then? – I interrupted with the shivering voice.
- Without medicines darkness will absorb you completely.
- Doctor! – The office was run in by the young girl.
- Aaa, Lenochka. Minute, we already finish.
- Well, everything is clear to me, - rose and I said goodbye.
Warm sunny day didn;t let home, there was a wish to walk, listen to music intentionally slowing down on the long street conducting home. Oh, if I know about a surprise – would run home at full speed. A long queue in drugstore, at last washing, then the most tiresome expectation so far they will check recipes for authenticity, will sell the medicine which is stored probably in the safe, differently that there it is possible to check forty minutes. On attached to the back of the handle of an entrance door to an adhesive strip from a pack of cigarettes having convinced that to the apartment nobody came into my absence, I locked a door, switched on light, was undressed, came into the room. On the keyboard the fresh live red rose lay. As it smells. Mm …
Why I didn;t notice the wooden swing with the peeled-off paint allocated against the background of the playground at the end of the street earlier? And it is nowhere. Where It?
Oh that it there? - the thought rushed. – Same my notebook, a new notebook for verses.
Precisely remembering as bought it the day before yesterday I opened and didn;t believe, literally didn;t believe eyes. It all is used up to a cover! My handwriting! The ideas, sketches – all in the form of the finished poems, my style, my experiments, a habit to put date at the end. I precisely remember, September now, and the last poem is dated January of the next year.
- Ku-ku! – He closed my eyes warm, slightly moist fingers. – The good fellow, that I told nothing about me!
- Oleg... Your rose … It is impossible to believe eyes …
- I knew, - he embraced. – You see how it is important – not to watch it in mirrors, - you managed to bring verses.
- And?.
- It is the big sign. Perhaps … I at last … - It embraced more strong, even more strong.
- Will you expect me there, in reality instead of a flower?
- Eh … - he sadly looked down. – Unless you are sure that you sleep now?

What, excuse?
- How mother?
- Эээ, whose? – I asked, trying to understand that I do in the yard.
I didn;t remember neither as put on nor as closed a door behind itself nor as went outside. Each word through internal fog troubled; fog was so dense that I fir-trees-fir-trees recognized the neighbor – the elderly woman in a coat.
- Your mother. You as it should be? A pale face, the look which is absent and watch something as on the street it is cold, and you in one undershirt. You will catch a cold!
- The Aaa, washing … It is normal.
- Say hello to it and put on more warmly.
- Well. Yes I here … Well … I follow cigarettes.
- Well, clear.
Consciousness refused to be restored, the body was wadded, hands didn;t obey, still it was necessary to hide from them – from public eyes on the street. Though parents were for 600 kilometers from here, all the same there would be informants. One inhaling on the run, another.
"How I after all left the house? When? What for? Why didn;t throw at least with a windbreaker shoulders", - the same thoughts on the way home turned.
"Taaak, a door I locked – it is already good"
The picture in my empty apartment slightly dumbfounded: in kitchen, in the room of parents and in mine – the light was turned on everywhere, radio worked, water flew from cranes, the parental computer was switched on:
- Dimetrochka, I am hungry. Go to bed quickly. – The notebook inscription on the monitor said.
Having quickly switched off, having nervously smoked a cigarette I laid down under a blanket, thoughts, the same thoughts haunted.
- Great you about cigarettes thought up!
- Do you laugh? At me shook with fear of a knee. I stood and didn;t know what to do.
- And unless you remember nothing?
- I don;t remember that?
- Go to me, all shakes you.
- Oleg …
- The CU - with-with, calm down. – he embraced having closed hands on a waist. – My good, quietly, quietly.
- It was the sea?
- Become exactly, relax a body.
- So?
- Yes. – It arranged hands so that warm little fingers densely adjoined to my temples, thumbs to a forehead, and I felt his forefingers as if all skull.
It reminded splashes, through their stream I saw a picture from outside, saw myself going on a warm surface the sea – going on water.
- And then you stopped and asked where conducts the sea. Forgive, I so often did earlier, you shouldn;t have remembered anything.
- So where conducts the sea? – it was heated about his warm, live, asthenic body.
- In you, expensive, at the colors surrounding you, tastes, smells, vibrations, flights, landings. I got up from your bed, put on your clothes, faded laces your fingers, touched yours, your body went outside.
- So you were me?
- So occurs every night, - he embraced even more strong. – Went, we will drive?
Warm from the summer sun, comfortable from absence of any people except us, the city, fresh and damp from a recent rain, hospitably let in the underground passages conducting to raspolagayushche to the empty platforms of metro stations painted by lighting lamps, lamps of restrictive strips, hours and the timer of an interval of train service. From deep darkness of a tunnel at first the strips of headlights which were reflected in a wall, and seemed then and with anything incomparable music – the rumble of the arriving train – added a picture: neither the driver in a cabin, nor passengers except us, nor the announcement of the closed doors. We took places, he sat down at doors to put the head on the wall proceeding further a window, I nearby, the train slowly gathered speed, with even more fascinating sound braked opening doors at each deserted station.
- Great I thought up, the truth? – its voice was

 

Who are you such, spontaneous effect of presence?
Technology of modeling of dreams teaches long and laborious work: you want to dream about a certain subject, a certain person, to appear in a certain place – first diligently think what you want to see before going to bed, keep it in attention focus any time and two, you look at the 100-th it will turn out, and it doesn;t exist.
- I am glad you again to welcome.
- Oleg, I …
- Be not afraid. Where-where, and here nothing threatens you. Do you want to get acquainted with inhabitants of my sea?
- Do you have the whole sea?
- Generally it same your as mine – it is ours.
- Then yes, I want, - I answered I, perceiving dream matter on a picture of objective reality.
One of sets of unfamiliar streets of the deserted city was painted by the low concrete fountain of gray color hiding a glass old-fashioned glass under bed curtains of the bubbling streams. Having taken it it departed approximately on meter.
- Only don;t look in reflection.
- Agreed.
The water poured by circular movements on asphalt laid down ideally round pool which metal the reflecting surface reminded mercury.
- Take off an undershirt, put nearby and jump on a pool.
- To remove that …
- No, any got wet dry. Things have property to return in a starting point of sending. You won;t leave – you won;t return from swimming.
Having left an undershirt asphalt I began to jump on a pool. One jump, the second, and on the third under legs didn;t remain its viscous pliable waters any more, there was no stone soil left also. The green space of the underwater kingdom an instinctive delay of breath dumbfounded search of a surface.
- Breathe, you have gills.
It didn;t make sense to look round and for it under water because the voice measured distinctness reached from my head, directly from reason depths, in dialogue intertwining with thoughts. One breath, then the second – to breathe water appeared as easy as shelling pears. Black-black, viscous-viscous, silent-silent shadows of fishes, whales, dolphins, killer whales floated through me, swam away in me and equally well came up back. Several minutes later the picture of the hospitable warm waters inhabited by shadows was wound off back as a videotape, having ended rewind by return to a mirror pool.
- Now that;s something like it.
- I knew, it will be pleasant to you. – He didn;t take eyes with me.
Spiritualized me I involved strange rustle. Deeply elderly woman went absent-mindedly sclerous gait along the motionless avenue.
- Gr-r-r-r, - he said by an inhuman voice, having forced it to disappear.
- This sound, even goosebumps.
- I her was a worm with the head and feelers of an octopus, otherwise she in a dream would choke.
- Didn;t understand, you can accept any shape?
- Only, to wake the person facing death.
It is not a dream - it is bigger a dream.
- Teach me to spill a glass of water, - I shy asked.
- Correctly I will teach to spill the portal at first you to walks on water.
Having woken up squeezed out as a lemon I found myself on a floor near a bed.