Agatha Magic Loveshrr

Щеглова МУ каждого – свой способ открывать порталы и соединять миры. Кто танцует. Кто поёт. Кто готовит. А для меня взять ручку – что включить телепорт. Только этот телепорт – живой, и ещё большой вопрос, кто на ком катается: то ли ты – на историях, то ли истории – на тебе. И то, и другое… и что-то совсем третье. Так что – взлетаем! Технические детали, кому интересно: закончила Литературный Институт (Москва). Участвовала в международной программе Between the Lines (США) и в фестивале Fringe (Эдинбург). Есть публикации в литературных журналах (британских) и самиздатовская книжка The More the Merrier.

Writing is like breathing to me: just like breath, it connects worlds and realities. Writing is also like riding, and it’s impossible to tell whether you ride the Story or the Story rides you. As always, it’s either, neither and both. Cuckoo la la and… taking off! Some technical details for those who are interested: Graduated from Literary Institute (Moscow). Participated in Between the Lines International Writing Program (Iowa, USA) and Fringe Festival (Edinburgh). I have a few publications in various UK magazines (Brittle Star,Monkey Kettle, Poetry Scotland and more) – short stories, poetry. I also have a self-published book of poetry, The More The Merrier.


рассказ “Surrounded by Mushroom”

отрывок

Im-possible!

Merry gives me a sign to keep quiet. Mr. Yrmen, the shopkeeper, is here, that must be the reason. The queue isn’t long, and when it’s Merry’s turn he begins a typical weathery chit-chat; but there’s another talk  between the words. It’s like he uses two different frequencies and if I ignore one of them I can hear a coherent message. I find myself replying in the same manner – no idea how – it’s not very different from thinking my thoughts while letting my mouth say the usual stuff.

“A lovely day today, innit? – Glad to see you – Very nice”.

“Yes, lovely – What’s going on? – Nice and sunny”.

“I went out without my shades – Ah, so you noticed – and got sunburned”.

“You should be more – I was hoping to see you – careful – What’s wrong with me, am I mad?”.

“Good point – You called me, and I came – It’s plus forty, they say – Nah, you’re not mad, just hacked, so to speak – but I don’t believe it”.

“I can offer you – What do you mean, hacked? – this nice cream”.

“An ice-cream would be – Hard to explain. Does it bother you? – even better”.

“There are different – Are you kidding?! – flavours”.

“Oh, that’s interesting. – Thought so. – Like what?”.

“Strawberry, chocolate – Will you help me? – mint, banana…”.

“What’s the – Can’t promise but I can try – one with stripes?”.

“Oh, that’s our – Oh please, I can’t stand it! I’m so confused! – special”.

“I made up my – See you outside tonight if you like, then – mind”.

“Yes? – I’ll try to come”.

“A loaf of bread – Don’t worry – please”.

“Which – I do hope you can help me! – one?”.

“The greyish one – Not me, but I’ll tell you later”.

“It’s not grey – I feel trapped – it’s brown”.

“Brown, then – That’s good – Please”.

“There you go – Good?!”.

“There you go – Yes. Once you feel trapped you are free. – Ta”.

“Thank you”.

“See you”.

There he goes…

Time to break the circle.

 Chapter 2.5: Intermission

“I found her! I found her!” –

Merry’s happy cry rings across the forest as he runs. Suddenly he stops and looks up at the trees. “Well, she’s obviously hacked”, he adds with enormous confidence. “She’ll probably try to kill me and all that”.

The trees hum in response. Merry looks offended. “Who says anything about blaming? Of course I’m not blaming her! This can’t be helped, that’s all I’m saying”. He listens to the great trees again. “Why yes, of course she can override it! Silly woodies!”.

And he springs and sprints off again.

“I – found – her! I FOUND HER! Hooray!”.

The whole Forest knows and rustles in excitement and expectation of the long awaited freedom.

 Chapter 3 – in which Ginger breaks the circle and nearly breaks a neck

Imagination.

She’s too tired, that’s all. What a stupid idea. Climbing out of the shop won’t help. Climbing into her bed, that’s what she needs. Some rest. She’s daydreaming already, she’ll be daysleeping soon. And who’s that Merry? She doesn’t even know him.

A stranger calls her out into the night. That’s suspicious. Stupid. Better stay indoors. Imagination. And it’s probably wet and cold out there. No way. Of all the –

But then she thinks of Merry, of his childishly open face, of the twinkle in his strange eyes, of his aura of softness she never knew –

Oh well, I’ll go. Just this once, just to see what’s that about.

Just leave a note in case I disappear.

Nights are warm in summer so it doesn’t stop me when I can’t find my coat. I’m not sure I have one.

I go downstairs; I know all the creaky spots and I do not step on them. Mr. Yrmen will be furious if he discovers my indecent move. I think of the note I left. I spent a good quarter of an hour composing it – trying to make it vague enough not to mean anything if my little trip goes well, and to be a clue if this Merry turns out to be a – a bad person. The idea feels idiotic now but, what-ho! What’s done is done and as they say, “better safe than sorry”!

Though I suspect my adventure is going to be more “sorry” than “safe”.

Anyway, here is the front door. I turn the knob…

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