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Каюмова Эльвира
My name is Elvira, I am an artist in all meanings of this word. I love art, creativity, beauty, and books are my passion. I like A.S. Pushkin,- he did a lot, though he lived a little.One of my favorite modern authors is Paulo Coelho, I think he is great.
In 2009 I finished Republic College of Art. And the college gave me a lot. My look at people, at the world, at relationships, even at fashion,- everything have changed.
The main theme of my stories is mysticism. ”It” is around us. Maybe you cannot see” it”, maybe you think that mysticism is nonsense, but I can see ”it”, and I tell about ”it” in my stories.
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Me Alone
(The extracts)
1
Loneliness
I was sitting at home by the window, looking out and thinking of nothing. It was dark outside and pretty cold, -rain season was in its height. People were in rush outside. Nobody wanted to be thoroughly wet as rain started to pouring harder and harder after every second. Hastening home they knew there is somebody waiting for them, with hot supper on a table. No doubt all of them were happy in spite of the horrible weather. They were not alone saving me. I have been alone since I was three. My mother was single parent and I think I was an unexpected child. It’s not that she had ever told me I was, but I just felt I was. I remember very few of her. She always was wearing short dresses and scarlet lipstick and almost every day after she had lulled me she went out for all night. I can still hear in my head her sweet lullaby:
Sleep my sweetheart kitty cat,
Day is over, – you’re in bed.
Sleep hard, sleep hard kitty cat,
Mommy’s near don’t forget…
That charming childish voice… I wish she could be near, I wish she could sooth me with that song. But the truth is that, one day she had left and never came back again. Nobody knew where she was, whether alive or dead, and why. Nobody had seen her after our neighbor Juliet. That night she was coming home much later then ever and when she almost had opened the outer door she saw my mom walking down the ladder in hurry. That was it. After that moment she had disappeared sensu stricto.
Mommy where are you? What happened that night fifteen years ago? What was the reason to leave your child? I miss you. I really miss you..
2
The cat
A bit later when I noticed that nobody left in the street I’ve realized that someone was looking at me. It was Mother-cat. She was sitting beneath the window, -her usual place to seat, at the vegetable garden. She wasn’t my cat. But I know her for years and she became a part of my life. Sometimes she stays at mines, but I don’t want to make her a slave, -she is free and can go out any time she wants. She likes scrambled eggs with chicken sausages, as my mom did. That’s funny. And that was one of the reasons to name her Mother-cat.
I haven’t seen her for one week, and now she was here, looking up at with her kind big green eyes, impassioning wisdom. I’ve never met a cat with that kind of look before; that fixed look. Sometimes I think she knows more than she should, than a cat should and the thought makes me shiver.
Now, standing here at the window, examining her I realize that there is
something more about that cat, that we have more in common than it can appear. Unbelievable! At that thought the cat smirked, as though she has was listening to my thoughts! I turned out from the window or.. from the cat. I think I’m going mad. It’s not good. It’s not good at all. I think I’m familiar with the reason, it is my loneliness. At that rate I’m going to talk to ghosts. Inhaling one more time and gathering courage I turned back and looked out but Mother-cat was nowhere to be seen.
That night trying hard to sleep I couldn’t close my eyes. The cat didn’t want to get out of my mind. In spite of the weather outside it was hot under the blanket and I decided to go for a walk to cool down. Throwing on a windcheater and slapping the door I headed out to the street. Nothing was on my mind, – no fear, no worries, and no destination ahead, just hike, just aimless hike. The street was empty and looked deserted. Suddenly a tiny spot has appeared in the distance. The silhouette started to grow as it approached. It was a young man in a wide-brimmed hat and in a cloak. His hands were inside the pockets and his step was steady. I stopped for a while in the middle of the road, hesitated. I didn’t know what to do. Should I run back home or should I continue my way going straight not taking notice of the stranger. But while I was lingering the man has approached near enough and was about two meters from me. He stopped. His serious face looked familiar, but I can pray I’ve never seen him before. How could I know him? I wanted to ask him,
and when the question was ready in my head I opened my mouth to say it but my throat made no noise. I tried once more but without success. Cold ran down my skin I don’t know whether from the fear or because of the wind. His gaze hypnotized me. He knew the answer for my question, more, he knew what my question was. His jaw muscles started to move and when he was about to answer with his mouth wide opened he made a horrible noise. That wasn’t a sound men could make. It was an animal sound. Yes, the man in front of me was mewing like a cat, – like a cat in fight. My terrified body was covered with sweat. All of a sudden I have awakened and saw a sunlight spot running in front of my eyes. Yes, it was a nightmare and the noise the man uttered in my dream indeed was coming from the window. I leaped off bed and ran to window to see who was there or more exactly to make sure that there wasn’t MY cat.
3
Mysterious Mr.A
No. There were two vagrant cats. I exhaled with relief and headed to the kitchen for a big cup of coffee. During my breakfast which consisted from fried eggs with toast and of course coffee with milk, – my favorite, I was wondering about this weekend and things which I can do… Maybe I should go for a walk to the park or organize a picnic. That would be great. But there was one no: I would go alone cause I had no friends, no relatives and my contact list in my phone involved four numbers: my boss, the plumbing specialist, – I call him twice a month because of my unbearable bathroom equipment; taxi number, – to say the truth I never call them but keep the number just in case; what for the last fourth number I don’t know whose it is. It was named under A letter and I think I have had it for years. The origin is unknown. And today was the day to discover its owner. My prowess to talk to a stranger was questionable, but my despair was on its peak. I needed an interlocutor, I needed somebody to listen to me and I don’t care if my conversation with A will last for a minute. Gathering courage and trying to find words to say I dialed the number. Long lasting tones sounded like a verdict and I hung the phone.
My aimless ramble in the room brought me to my yesterday events and I was waiting for Mother cat to come. At least I can talk to her and I believe that she will understand my every word.
Bzz… bzz… The vibration of my phone makes me startle. Mysterious Mr.A is calling. Fear seized me. I didn’t know whether to answer or ignore it, but my decision was obvious.
-‘’Hello,’’ I mumbled in a high voice.
-‘’Hi Anastasia! I’ve been waiting for your call.’’ The voice belonged to man, to a young man. He was talking like he had known me all his life and that was weird cause I didn’t even knew his name.
-‘’Hmm… do you?’’ I didn’t want to confess the fact that I had no idea whom I was talking to.
-‘’Yes, my friend. I think something special has happened in your life. Am I right?’’ Two things confused me: the ‘’my friend’’ thing and his supernatural conjecture about my life. ‘’Ok, don’t answer now, -I know. We should meet today. I have something to tell you. At 5 p.m., Friendship Park, the first bench after the gates, don’t be late. See you.’’ He didn’t even let me to put in a word. What kind of information does he have? To many questions have amassed about this guy and in spite of the fact that it was dangerous to meet a man whom I’ve never met before it was my sacred duty to go and find out the answers.