Ловушка для Мыслеформы. A Trap for a Thought-Form. Премия им. М. Булгакова / M. Bulgakov Award (Билингва: Rus/Eng)

The Guardian didn’t know why. It would be worth clarifying, although he understood that it was necessary. However, was he waiting for… the right date? A number? A symbol? What was he waiting for?

***

August

Since last autumn, when the King of Swords allowed me to open the Right Door of the Mansion, I had been forcing myself to go back to open the Left one, because the main city Portal of transition to Another Reality was hidden right behind it. I was too tired, bored and tormented by a premonition of something that must definitely happen as soon as I opened THAT DOOR.

«Alice, you shouldn’t enter that Mansion. It’s dangerous! Do you want me to show you the place where…» а familiar poet, once the Page of Cups, offered suddenly.

«I need to go to the Mansion. I have to open the Door on the Left,» I pleaded, looking into his eyes pitifully.

«Well, then… tomorrow?»

«Yes, tomorrow, please!»

At the same moment the poet cried out and turned me around to face the house, on the facade of which there was a gigantic portrait of the Writer from that Mansion.

«Nearby Alice there is only mysticism… It’s a sign!»

However, it started to rain «tomorrow», and the trip to the Mansion was postponed indefinitely.

Meanwhile, the Left Door was attracting me stronger and stronger. From time to time, I was sent strange people – writers who asked me to arrange literary parties in the Mansion, as a great opportunity to combine the desired with my direct work, but because of the epidemic, the Mansion was closed for a long time…

***

Repeatedly I tried to return to that sweet dream about three pairs of orange sandals, to find there the man with a small belly and a foggy face, with whom I felt happy.

In vain, I always found myself in the past, where Roman appeared sitting next to me on my right. There were a lot of people there.

«If not for the age difference,» I looked at him almost jokingly and sighed.

«What’s the difference?» he immediately interrupted me. «There is no difference!»

«I would have fallen head over heels in love with you,» I finished my sentence.

How many times did I say goodbye to him? Even in my dreams I could not allow myself anything… I didn’t want to hurt, maybe. One or both of us?

However, in a little while my Sun would have set in the last, the 12

 sector of the Astrological Clock of life.