Силим Кам

silim-kamСилим Кам

Козлов Максим Александрович (творческий псевдоним Силим Кам). Родился и вырос в Минске, Республика Беларусь. В 2009 году закончил факультет журналистики Белоруского Государственного Университета по специальности «печатные СМИ». В настоящее время работает журналистом в нескольких интернет-изданиях. Литературой начал заниматься с 2007 года. К настоящему моменту имеет ряд неопубликованных романов, психологический триллер «Блюбери», изданный издательским домом YAM-Publishing и два сборника стихов.

Kozlov Maksim Aleksandrovich (creative pseudonym Silim Kam). Born and raised in Minsk, Belarus. In 2009 he graduated from the journalist faculty of Belorussian State University with a degree in “print media”. He is currently working as a journalist in several online publications. He started working on literature in 2007. At the moment he has a number of unpublished novels, psychological thriller “Blyuberi” published by the publishing house YAM-Publishing  and two collections of poems.

Роман, мистический детектив “Сновидец”


Hello everybody.

My name is Alec Somna. I think it is not that bad name although one of my friends says that it is magical and comes from the ancient Romans. I personally don’t care about that stuff. Weather, political reports, sales in stores – all this is a waste of time for me. Usually I look with empty eyes at the people who care about this stuff. They in turn say that I live in a different world. Maybe they’re right because there are not so many things which I’m really connected to in my world. They are so few that they can fit on the fingers of one hand. This is alcohol. Music. And speed. In my passions I try to keep them in this very order but there are some exceptions…

People suffering from addiction or any phobia try to choose the right job that would match their disadvantages. For example I became a courier. That is a kind of creative activity, especially for a guy who had a problem with communication since childhood. Therefore taking alcohol is necessary in my case. The hometown tattooed in my brain in form of disgusting shapeless puddle acquires amazing shape from time to time. I’ve always loved to race on a motor scooter in its strange streets and I got paid for it since some time.

Oh yeah, I forgot to name the geographical unit on the map of Scotland which I am tied to both physically and emotionally. People call it Peebles but I assure you that they have no idea what they are talking about. Unlike the real-life counterpart my Peebles is not a toy horse town with architecture “antique” but it is a place where life rages 24 hours a day. A sort of Gotham in the foggy Albion with a complete set of current attributes of a megacity, ie criminal clans, colorful sights, rich history and too real people. I know some people and I can introduce them to you on occasion. I’ll bet you fifty dollars – you have not met yet such people!

Despite the fact that I am the owner of a very unremarkable appearance troubles chase me with an enviable constancy. I am bad at regulating conflicts but I know a great treatment from their consequences. Therefore I can make for any tourist a detailed map of the local pubs. Believe me or not but I attribute this quality to the category of the main advantages. I have few of them. At least it was like this until recently.

Grandma often warned me about the harm of alcohol. According to her words alcohol killed my grandfather Cormac long before he should have died. In fact it was not the bottle but the shell with a heavy bomber “Junkers Ju 488” that killed his company during the raid on the Normandy. Unlike his colleagues grandfather was the only one who survived the bombing because he collected trophies in the wine cellar. The exit was hopelessly swamped and Cormac had no choice but to get drunk to death with wine selective. Well, I was all prosaic riding my “Vespa” I had an accident.

Trifling somersault through the “Mini Cooper” ended for me with a hospital bed. There I was in the best traditions of Flatliners, lying for a couple of weeks without regaining consciousness. During this time I saw and heard a lot of things. I do not know how to explain it… In general I was offered an interesting ability, a different fate. I, like a fool, agreed although I could not imagine how cool it is to be an ordinary unremarkable guy.

This thing that I learned to use was called “Dreams”. It could not be stuck to any of the popular clichés of science fiction such as telekinesis or predictions. The idea of my “talent” was much deeper. I became a dreamer, i.e. someone who can see the reality from the inside and able to read the universe and find answers to any questions. I was also able to learn that every world, even stale nightmare of a long-dead is inhabited. Any clue needs to be paid.

Someone long ago promised to help me but left me to fend for myself even when I came to myself. The horror of my situation was that the world did not come back to normal and it was different from the previous one as well as a picture of the colored daguerreotype. Absolutely everything in my life changed forever. There was no way back.

My main problem in my new appearance was that I basically was not a Superman. My pathetic vanity of human nature has always appeared at the wrong time making me make a choice with the sign “minus”. It got to the point of absurdity: in my eyes I became a sort of anti-hero from the comics D. Constantine “Hellblazer”. I had real enemies which were sort of the people that are shot first and then asked questions. In short it was the trash in its purest form.

The strangest thing for me in my new status is that new feeling of grace that I didn’t experience before. As if you walk in the cloud in the middle of the cemetery of the living dead. Moreover I saw something worse. For the first time I managed to get out of the whole terrible shit and even earned something. Do you want to know how?

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