Today an unexpected and astonishing guest wandered into my coffee shop.

  She nodded to me as if to an old acquaintance, and then instantly lowered her eyes, somehow hunched all over, and quickly sat down at a table. Her movements became jerky, and a feverish blush appeared on her face.

  My dear, what has happened to you?

  “I was recently sorting through old archives. Papers that miraculously survived 12 years.”

  She cuts herself off mid-sentence and unconsciously wrings her fingers. As if my guest had not spoken to anyone for a long time. Had been in confinement and solitude.

  But even through these crumpled nervous movements there shows through…

  I prepare a special coffee for her. Into the almost boiling drink goes a pinch of salt and red ground pepper. And already on the table in front of the guest, a pinch of cinnamon is added to the cup. Nearby is a plate with juicy large cherries. They have absorbed so much sweetness and summer sun that their skin has become almost black.

  “I came across one entry. It was my dream. Written down 12 years ago. I remembered it even without the запись, but as it turned out, not all of it. Not all the details. All these years only a pleasant soft feeling of warmth and safety was with me.

  And now I reread it. And as if I fall through. Or rather, I want to go there so much…

  I dream that I am running down a dark dirty staircase. Upstairs remain those who are dear to me, who love me. But I need to run. I need to be able to fight my fears. This is one of the stages of training.

  And I manage! I run out into the street and look back at the building. Up there, about the fifth floor, a balcony. On it stand my beloved twins. They wave their arms, whoop and laugh. They are happy for me and beckon me to them.

  And with delight and childlike joy I wave my arms and fly up to them. It is so unusual for me to fly. These are my first attempts. I try to row with my arms and legs as if the air is water. I misjudge the height and in an instant soar above the treetops. From fear and a sharp turn my head spins, but I cope both with my body and with the flight.

  I successfully land between them on the balcony. They laugh into my neck, hug me and ruffle my hair. I did it.

  We go from the balcony into the apartment. It… It is like a warehouse in a Turkish bazaar, a cozy grandmother’s attic and an old mansion with kind ghosts at the same time. I cannot convey my delight in words.

  The apartment is huge, two-story. A wrought spiral staircase leads to the second floor. There are countless doors there. And downstairs everywhere there are carpets, soft sofas covered with colorful knitted blankets, cozy coffee tables. And everywhere lamps in large linen lampshades with floral patterns. They give so much warm golden light.

  I feel so warm and joyful. I understand that this apartment should not exist. It cannot fit into the physical world.

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  But what does this delightful place care about the physical world. It gives its inhabitants warmth and light, joy and tenderness.

  And I was brought here not by chance. Now I am a full-fledged inhabitant of this space. A small god. Like my beloved red-haired twins. I am in such delight.

  And it was exactly this feeling of warmth that was with me all these years. Although I did not remember the details and reread them only now, after so many years.”

  My guest gently smiles at the memories and takes a sip of the drink.

  I want to burst out laughing. My dear, what happened to you that you forgot…

  “I did not remember about the twins. Did not remember until I reread it. And I did not remember how it happened that I got lost.

  I fell out of the apartment. It really is magical. Gods live in it. And the apartment embeds itself into any space, despising the laws of the physical world. And we traveled in it through worlds and time.

  There are many inhabitants in the apartment. There was a man with receding hair, a cozy beer belly and kind eyes. And there was a flock of colorful gypsy women with a guitar. I adored their songs and dances.

  And sometimes the gods left the apartment. Traveled separately or accidentally got lost. And the remaining inhabitants always went searching. Always helped to return.

  In the dream they found me. I was waiting out the winter at an acquaintance’s place. He confessed his love and very much regretted that he had not done it earlier. And I was already ready to answer “Yes” when the news came that I had been found.

  All thoughts instantly flew out of my head. Consciousness was flooded with endless joy.

  And he. He did not begin to beg, did not begin to hinder. Only already in front of the balcony he sharply grabbed my coat sleeve, pulled me to himself, squeezed me in an embrace until it hurt and spun me around the square. A drawn-out and deep confession. And farewell. At that moment I was torn in two. I wanted to stay with him and missed the magical apartment so much.

  And I did not resist when the beloved hands of the twins pulled me up onto the balcony. Yes, strange, but going out through the window was probably more convenient for us then.

  And again magic and the joy of travels and adventures next to those with whom it is always warm and safe.”

  Come on, my dear, say what I so want to hear. Although, judging by your behavior and hunted look, you do not understand. You forgot…

  In front of me sits a demiurge. I see that boundless ocean that someone desperately tried for many years to bury under ice. But it is enough for her to give just one direct look for those around to feel this magical, delightful element.

  And people around really do notice. And most likely keep apart. It is impossible to remain indifferent next to such energy if you are not blind. So why?

  “In the dream there was one warning that I ignored in reality for more than a dozen years.

  And now. I found it, I read it. I remembered them. But I got lost. Fell again into an endless cold winter. And I do not know where to look for them, how to return there.”

  Tears roll down the cheeks of my delightful guest like hail. But she cries soundlessly. This is the highest edge of despair. To bring a young god to such a state one must know how.

  But, my dear, you yourself already understood. You remembered. You have one last step left.

  A demiurge cries in my coffee shop. She does not understand. She searches in the darkness by scraps of memories. Memory has faded over these years in winter, it has turned into the haze of a dream, an impossible wish, in which over time you stop believing.

  She goes by intuition. But she does it the same way she cries. Silently. Someone forced her to be silent. For years trained her to look at the floor, to close herself off from the dream. For years forbade her to fly.

  And you just need to call. To call for help. You will be heard, my dear. They are already on the way. They are also looking for you. You are just silent.

  But my guest has not remembered yet. She does not understand.

  I will ask for her. Sunny twins, her embodiment of happiness, fun and safety, she is here. She is slowly learning to fly again. And she is waiting for you very much. Find her as soon as possible...