“Misa,Yli-Kittila,SL” - wooden nameplate was tied to the old ski pole stuck in the ground. Next
extremely neglected kaleyard begins. The soil was completely covered with junk,
scrap, leavings, dirty underwears. Deep in the cloud of drosophilas chic red
satin sofa with gold have situated by darkly
mindless forces. Little fat Misa ate the eclair.
-Hi. How are you?
-Hi. I am OK.- And no doubt she was actually OK.
-Where is the Exit?
Wordless Misa indicate on the rickety shithouse.
***
Naturally, role of Karlsson have played
by the old chap Duke. More
precisely his AV- of course.
-Good egg! You almost reached
the Door, heh heh.- Duke carefully filled his “sherlockholmesian” pipe,- take a smoke,
student, and here goes.
-And buns?
-Sure!
With great distrust Leo made a
puff.
-Remember, Leo, now it`s your
conversion to another level. All will be serious, really.
Leo looked at turquoise moon,
run to skyscraper edge and made the jump....
***
Sluggish thoughts about Camomille wine. He went across kaleyard to rickety
wooden toilet. Misa cried: “Do you want a bun?”. And without feedback she go to get it out from under her pants.
Whats a little animal (a
rat?) fulminantly crossed
his path. And another...All this brisk weasels were wrapped with elastic
dark-red cords. With incredible speed the cute furry animals stretched a net
around his feet. At some point slack ropes become tensioned as superstrings. So
he immobilized. Ok. Here it – a clumsy little bear heavily bestrides over
strained wires steadily approaching him....
Leo fell to the ground and like
grim death began to extricate himself from tie-ups. The Bear bore down on him
with all the weight. Leo have time to see a badge on his hairy chest: “Corpsman
Sven. Des Peres Hosp. St Louis, MO”. For
a wonder Leo сrawled out from under the wheezing carcass and ramps to sacramental Exit. With genuine
horror Leo throw open shithouse door....
***
-Wake up!
Leo
heavily opened his eyes trying to defend his face from violent slaps. Redhead
bitch did not go away and he grabbed her.
-Stop!
It hurts, go to hell!- She slipped out of his grasp and batten down the pull up
dress. - You almost died, you idiot.
He
recalled frantically what happened in fact.
-Where
are we?
She
paints her lips nervously.
-In
the toilet.
-And
more global? Is it Avenue or Yli-Kittila,
SensLand? Or Missouri- ”Show-me”? And who are you, strictly speaking?
She
stared at him, sneered and in the
end exhaled:
-Ok. We need to go back to the cafe. And you need
a tea. Simple tea.
In a small cafe huge portrait of Jim Morrisonon
hung on the wall. Soft sounds of reggae. Slightly muted reddish half-light,
cinnamon and mandarin scent… Memory gradually brightened.
-You really do not remember anything?- she got
thin cigarettes out of her purse and lit.
-Fuzzily. What is this place?
-We are in the Doors.
Leo flinched.
-Really?
-Absolutely. Coffee shop “doors”. Singel 14,
Brouwersgracht, Amsterdam.
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