LITMIR.BIZ

      He has got high at once and forever! Though they say that a junkie has no fate, it has been the fate, love at the first sight! As hot as heat of the sun rising above the horizon, enveloping the earth with a cotton blanket of midday July fever! And simultaneously – like breath of cool breeze on a quiet summer evening impregnated with fragrance of field grasses and flowers, when the orange globe leisurely crawls to the edge of violet sky.

      Nah, well, surely, they had to wait for about an hour for arrival of the “trip” – till molecules of “Kremlins” and ‘Magicians” soaked into cerebral cortex and broke through a tunnel in it – into the Universe, having let to know about the contact of naked nerves with outer space – by the after-taste of a battery on tongues.

      Suddenly, there appeared an ancient Egyptian Sphinx in front of Volodya, dizzily pulsating by colorful vibrations of headily uncoiling colored celluloids! Remaining the only spectator at a night cinema performance, having unriddled all the mysteries of phantom’s existence in a split second, he merged with it in blissful ecstasy, started to uncoil further on – not the spectator, and not the Sphinx any more, but the liquid celluloid drowning in myriads of sweet flowers whirling away along the tunnel, with speed of light!

      “My soul has melted as if a candle, in the middle of me,” a panel with lines which flamed in memory, darted away somewhere into distance, and there came the ecstasy of the ETERNAL LOVE OF THE UNIVERSE, gaining momentum and increasing with every moment, the ECSTASY of the JOYFUL SWEETNESS gushing from emptiness, like a fountain, shouting in affectionate whisper of OMNISCIENCE about ABSOLUTION!

      Unexpectedly, a cry of cranes reached his ears, and a flock from an animated cartoon, but of the amazingly live cranes, which turned up on a shimmering screen, in mind’s eye, flied skyward, into a tunnel full of sunshine, rising along a spiral, carrying him away with it by its shrill cry and by soft whirling, twisting off the top of the head which had turned into soft rubber, like a tap from a bottle of “Sprite”.

      Again he sensed the after-taste of vitamin C on the tongue and, having opened his eyes, looked around a sunlit park with endlessly blue sky overhead. Happy shouts and laughter of children reached his ears through a quilt of deafened quietness, having reminded of the careless insouciance of childhood. And at once he turned into this laughter, and into these self-forgetful children enjoying warmth and fullness of life, and into this Sky, and into this Sun, and into this Heat of the UNIVERSAL LOVE, into the SKY of the OMNISCIENCE and of the ABSOLUTION. Volodya looked down towards the earth, he was sitting on a bench, the Earth was located beneath and far away, at his feet, in the Parallel Universe, but sunshine flowed down from his eyelashes in drops and fell down into abyss, like raindrops – from a skyscraper or from a star, from the Kremlin star!!! Volodya felt how in his breast, by soft foamy wave, raised triumph of the God reposing, after His Works, on the Seventh Day, but, maybe, the solemn uplift of a hero invited to the Kremlin for awarding by the “Star of Hero”? The pills had namely such a title – “Kremlins” – who has called them like this???!!!

      “Some kidders!!!” in a split second, he amusedly appreciated such a simple and so funny meaning of the title which has comprised into a single word the whole solemnity of the mood of the perceived Universe. And then he thought that “pills”, “rolls”, “eggs”, “blotter papers”, “bops” – all of these words were absolutely irrelevant and infinitely distant – like a piece of a newspaper carried by free wind among spacious fields under boundless sky.

      Slavka, his brother, kept silence and there were no necessity in any words. Volodya knew it himself that Slavka unconditionally shared all of his feelings, that they saw one and the same movie, whirling away on one wave into endlessly delightful realisation of the Blissful Eternity, which would never go away anywhere and would not cease to caress soul by its Love! “But what if it does go away and stop to be?” A bitter thought, by force of habit, tried to find its way through skin of consciousness by an agile embittered little worm of doubt. But there was no skin, inasmuch Volodya had turned into the skin, into the little worm, into the Eternity, into the children, into their laughter, into the puddles on asphalt, into the solar drops dripping from the eyelashes, into the Sun, into the Moon and into Multicolored Star Galaxies, into the Milky Way and into the whole Universe! He forgave everybody, and everybody forgave him, but the thought powerlessly slipped down, carried away by a merrily growling waterfall of the deafening delight! He conceived in the instant, actually felt wholeheartedly, that a reverse side of bitterness was sweetness, and vice versa, and it was as inexpressibly good as cotton candy melting in a mouth of a child, on a sunny summer day, on the merry-go-round in the Luna Park!

      “Salute!!!” anthroposphere cried out to him loudly, incessantly falling into pieces, in front of his eyes, by bright multicolored sparkles, in an exhilarating greeting!

      For a moment, Volodya, kind of, returned into the ordinary reality.

      “Salute!” he pronounced by unfamiliar voice, humming, like a swarm of bees, as if he was in a spacesuit. Slavka looked at him and told prosily,

      “Let’s go to a caffice?”

      Volodya loved him for this commonness of expressions as though chaining to the surrounding reality by steel-wire ropes, but maybe, making fun of it???

      Volodya stood up from the bench, and they went to a café, along the street flooded with sunshine – through enfilades of the Universe, under bottomless blue heavenly dome – two almighty warlords, two all-knowing sovereigns of the world. They walked ceremoniously on multicolored and light, ravishing in its inaccessibility Moon Valley, nescient of the law of universal gravitation and force of gravity, on tasty and autocratic desert Sahara, slightly powdered with sugar sand of nocturnal frost, out-of-range of sensitive antenna tunings of eternally apprehensively-vigilant creatures from a specie of Homo Sapiens. No Homo could share with them the magic of weightlessness of sensations and of ponderability of feelings, probably for this reason, floating above the sidewalk of an absolutely empty street, on their way to the café, they never met a single passer-by.

      There was nobody in the café itself either, where Slavka had been working as a loader once upon a time, besides aunt Nastya, an elderly charwoman, and Natasha, manager of the café, standing at the moment behind the counter. She merrily and quickly glanced at them and asked a rhetorical question, “How are you?”

      Having flashed with a meaningful grin to Slavka’s reply, “How are you? We’re fine! Natasha, make us two teas, please!” she got lost in resolving some book-keeping problems.

      The café was not big and composed of a shop trading with hodgepodge in a front room, and of a small room for libations, on the right side of it, with approximate dimensions 3 х 3 m., into which led an arched door and in which stood two tables with four plastic chairs – at the given moment it was absolutely empty. A cramped room

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