Mystical Kiev and stories. V. Speys

happened. I do not have my measurements, I’m in another reality. I began feverishly to think what it could mean. The idea came desperate to lose examples of people in the caves, extinction of entire crews of vessels on the high seas, and even remembered the ghost train, disappeared in the early nineteenth century, the Italian tunnel with passengers. Gradually, I began to come to life, struggling with despair of his foolish act. Then it became a logical co-deliver the facts, trying to find a memory of a constructive approach to the incident. In this new dimension, I found the cut tree stump and sat on it. The body immediately felt the cold touch, but I did not care, I have ceased to feel the cold. Reflecting on his back, I still could not believe that it happened to me. After sitting a little more, I made a last attempt. With eyes closed, he came to the center, and carefully opened his eyes, slowly raising the eyelashes. Everything was in place, nothing is changing. I had to go back on the stump. The cold and despair slowly left me, came to replace the cold and sober thinking of the fact of what happened. I began to think more coolly. Thus, if this phenomenon exists, then there is a de facto. So the one who came into this reality, that of it and went out, otherwise there would be observed this black spot, as many as three circles. But that meant three laps. In my case, it may mean only that the first time I walked in and was able to get out immediately. This is indicated by the outer circle. The second round, medium, means that for the second time a man stuck in a foreign reality for a long time. But that means an average circle appear that this phenomenon exists and that there is in this place. A person faced with this phenomenon, how to stay fork-encrypted message to his counterpart in misery, do not despair, you can come back and come back at a certain time. Yesterday! Not on Friday, pushed me back into my reality. So, on Friday I can come back and come back another year. What to do? It should be a year, somewhere to live, something to eat and drink, to do something. Well, my God, wow, that’s it got involved. To tell you will not believe, I do not consider in their mind. Well, the fact happened and the decision is made. It is necessary to survive in the new reality, not to be lost, and to control the situation. After all, I’m in Kiev range of people should be the main thing will be defined with the local reality, well, at least to know what year and what’s going on here? And stay in the shade and not to attract attention. So, I begin to adapt, to get to my cart-hour rotation, which will come on Friday, the next year in late September, the 25th day.

      Reassure myself of this opportunity to return to my reality, I have decided to move quietly to explore a strange reality. Coming through the wet grass to dry the proposed tourism ladder, I was horrified to find solid bushes, through the bare branches, which, viewed a steep cliff that fell straight to the Little House on St. Andrew descent. In desperation, looked at St. Andrew’s Church, which from the height of the Castle Hill It was well visible and are still standing as a beacon in its rightful place, where she was once hoisted the famous architect Rastrelli. From this my heart was a little lain, and I self-preservation instinct, just mechanically, almost nothing is not knowing rushed as misguided ship in the ocean, in the light of this beacon of hope given to shaving.

      When he reached the edge of the top, I found a trodden path that led down the hill, which lost further in the direction of the church. Along the path quickly began to descend from the mountain front it was another hill, not as big as Castle Hill. After it, I went down into the street St. Andrew’s Descent. There were no traders souvenirs or series of artists with their creations. The old dilapidated houses clung to one another. Some

      The walls were flaky, which emanated from the musty basements and terrible poverty. By me were people dressed in old, battered clothes and curiously regarded Wail my working clothes consisting of a cloth jacket colors sun-bleached grass, wet shoes, a white shirt with a black collar and tie speckled, given to me for my birthday my wife. I decided not to focus on the views of passers-by and move on to the church. We saw a kiosk steps «Sojuzpechat.» He came closer, looked in the window booth. He looked at me with a face that seller big nose and sharp gray eyes, as if to ask what interests you, young man. I became curious to consider storefront with exposed logs, «Crocodile», «Young technician», «Soviet Sport» and other publications. Stallman does not pause first, he asked me:

      – You must travel, young man? – Heard the voice, I was glad of human speech, and restraining the emotions and excitement, asked in turn:

      – And you can find the magazine «Health» you have?

      – Of course, we sell, but it gets a little kiosk better to write, just fifty rubles a year. – But I was tormented by one question, what year, day and month? And I began to ask again, at random: – Now September thirtieth, and the following month, in October, I can write? – Began to carefully observe the reaction Stallman, but he did not blink, then a month and day was all right, but, as for the year? But Stallman himself told me a year.

      – You know, at the fifty-third better to write at once, that’s a month before the end of the fifty-two, you have to write, and it may be that not enough. This magazine is the most popular here in Kiev.

      – Hey, you’re stuck there?! – I heard a gruff voice behind him. – You take or not take?

      – What for travel rush?! – Shouted a man Stallman.

      – Yeah, come on; carry on the war veteran snowstorm, your business trip nothing happens. Give’s better magazine «Soviet Sport». I check on «Dynamo» with «Spartacus» played?

      But I was not listening. It was clear that the court of one thousand nine hundred and fifty second year, September 30, and in the calendar that hung in the window of a kiosk, I saw that today is Tuesday.

      Chapter Four

      It was necessary to solve something. Day has steadily moved to the end. It was getting cold, and there is no desire to be behind bars. But this was young and healthy, because that distant time, from Kiev where the homeless were taken away, arranging them on the job, after identification. I have, except the red badge at the «Electric appliance» no up-Document was not. Therefore, the most reliable option, and there was one, pretend to the poor old man and get out of the city to the village. I recalled my childhood, trying to remember myself at that age and all who come to us for alms. My God, of course there was one poor man, he lived in our village and my grandmother felt sorry for him and fed occasionally. I even guessed somewhere in the subconscious mind who it was. Of course it was me. Since my fifty-two years, I was six, of course, could not the poor and the old self to consider in more detail. I remember only that I had a long gray beard and gray hair. No wonder, after experiencing a throw back in time, you can completely turn gray. And my beard grows back quickly, and in the spring and in the summer I’m just going with a long beard and white hair. I still remembered that a beggar named Dorosh. In those days the poor old men do not pay attention. They were sitting near the church, begging and the authorities avoid them, because «God» people did not represent any harm to the Soviet authorities and was under the protection of the clergy. Also, the mendicant elder at the church, allowed to eat in the dining room for the poor. You could eat and keep warm. So, I had to be transformed into a beggar, this was the only guarantee that in a year I’ll get to that time portal and go back to your reality. How to be with this transformation. We must find a stick. And stick with unusual shapes to be seen that this old man, under the weight of his years it is difficult to walk, and he had to rely on the crutch. The most important thing to find a simple and unpretentious clothes. In the marketplace, you can dump the bags get thrown out of the forage. Just in 1952, he acted Hay Market, which sold fodder, hay, horse harness, oats and various household utensils. There you can reach an agreement prior to my native village Shpitki, Kiev Sviatoshynsky area. In the village acted church, a replica of the Vladimir Cathedral in Kiev. Before the Revolution, it was the residence of the famous Shpitki Tereshchenko sugar manufacturer, who also invested in the construction of the church. Deacon Theodosius Kuzmovich, sang in the church choir and worked part-collective farm beekeeper. And I often ran to him dine honey. He generously gave me fresh honey, and we talked with him. Of course,