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Why Anfisa Forget All. Or Just The drunk book
Or Just The drunk book
Anna Delenn
Translator Miya Mo
Editor Privy Advisor
© Anna Delenn, 2020
© Miya Mo, translation, 2020
ISBN 978-5-4498-6052-1
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
Foreword
Sometimes it seems to us that reality is what it really is. Or maybe reality is what we really want? And what can we want and what do our desires and wishes consist of? If we look at every moment of a tiny desire, then it turns out that desire is a need, without which we cannot move on to our main desire. But what is desire?
Thinking about this, ideas come to me that true desire is only a state of goodness, silence, happiness. And it doesn’t matter how it was achieved. This is a moment between the past and the future, in which lies the elusive mystery of being. Each such moment advances us towards awareness, despite the piles of endless memories of already non-existent realities.
In this book, I described the condition of a girl who is afraid to dream. And once she allowed herself to dream, she found herself in constantly changing stories. Since these fantasies already lived in her head, situations developed faster than she had time to think. And so her dreams are already an established reality.
Chapter 1: Station
Hurry – rather not be too late… Running around puddles and people, Anfisa ran faster and faster. Recall – recall the city in which she was going to come, but what is it called?…Creamy Shores or what?…She must run! She cannot stop and look at her ticket. She has no time.
Maybe Lucy, my girlfriend, remembers. She remembers everything.
– Lucy, hello! Where am I going? – Anfisa asked in a hurry.
– You’re back for the old!? To Sunny Beach or the North Valley, – said Lucy and she got off the phone.
Oh Yes! Exactly! Running into the station platform, Anfisa saw a train. Here it is, my train!
– Where is my ticket? – surprised Anfisa. – Probably in my purse! Where is my purse? It’s not here. I don’t have it!
Anfisa looked around. There is only a huge old suitcase standing next to her, and as addition to it, grandfather’s boots and an old mother’s fur coat on her.
– I told my mother for a long time: Throw away that old fur coat, you always keep old stuff! – grumbled Anfisa. After searching in her pockets, she found a ticket for the tram. – Oh, I got this ten-years-old ticket and the number on it is lucky. Okay, I’ll check it later.
– So where is my ticket?” – excited Anfisa. – Time is running out and the train is about to leave.
Seeing the train conductor, she ran to him and panted, asked: