Шорох листьев

Aimes-tu le bruit des pas sur les feuilles mortes? Somebody walks by. Sometimes they give me donuts and coffee. I can't feel their hands though I tried. It just felt like electrical field or something. Anyway, thank you, friendly electromagnetic field. I like your coffee. But fish-flavored donuts are really weird. No offence. Where am I? Well, it's a big place, endless but not boundless. When I walk, I feel grass under my feet, i feel stones, sand, torn paper, hardwood floor, sometimes a thin layer of water. This place has an iron fence all round, I like playing on this monotone harp. If you walk along this fence, everything starts to change, nd the longer you walk the more it changes. If you stop it will change backwards and you will be in the same place you started. I don't like to go far from the fence, I fear to get lost. But once I've crossed the park, from fence to fence, and I’ve found a building in the center of it. Well, not a building any more. It must have burned long time ago, just demolitions, charcoal, some torn cables and big metal cases rest. It's very pleasant to play in the ashes. I like the touch of it, the smell of coal. I've drawn something on that walls, I wonder - what would that be... My favorite sandbox so far. There is no donuts delivery here, but I can hear him. He is the reason I've crossed the park, his sound, or the sound of him. He said - "Welcome" so I followed his kind invitation. His stories of angels are really funny. And I liked the face of that old lady, and her house, and how one of angels held the yarn for her. Deep red yarn. There I thought - hey, what the hell? How can I say that it's red? Okay I could have imagined the face of old lady, my fingers do remember some faces and probably brains have put together some image. But red? I listened and listened to him. Cats can be red or black. People wear blue jeans. Sky is violet with yellow spots. Cancelled Wednesdy would hve been bright green, shame we missed it. When he showed me the sky I couldn't remain invisible any longer. - I see what you say. – I whispered, and sneezed because of ashes. - Who are you? – and I can't see anything. - How do you do that? - Who are you? - His voice grows higher. I think it's pretty impolite of him. - I'm the listener. You say "good night" to me every 24 hours. - Well, welcome to Night Vale, listener. - He coughs. - Thanks. Now please show me the skies. - Dear listeners.. - listener! I'm the only one here! - But he doesn't py ttention and continues with his nonsence - Dear listeners, we have some mystical interferences now, we'll be back after technical works. Until that, here goes our gorgeous weather forecast. He puts on some stupid music and I slam the nearest wall with a fist. That bastard! - Hey... - his voice is now small, and I get the impression of narrow space. - Now we can talk in private. Who are you? Nobody ever called me here! We promised all kinds o prizes and puppies and guns, nobody... Speak to me... Who are you? He continues to ask questions but I remain silent for some time. Men must be conditioned. Then I speak, and ignore all his questions of course. - Tell me the sky. **************** He tells me everything. He shows me everything. Skies, faces, hovering cat, garbage on streets. His own face in the mirror. Once I’ve persuaded him to take his shirt off and watched his beautiful tattoos moving. - I want to tell you one thing that I don’t know. - tody Cecil sounds even more shy thn tht time I sked him to undress for me. - Is it beautiful? - that's ll that interests me. - I can’t say… I think it is… she is. - Then go find it… wait, - “she”? He coughs again. I don’t like it so I cmmand – Come to the mirror. I can see his face which I know better and better, but yet it stays kinda unreal to me. My fingers don’t know him, and I’m uncertain if his face remains the same, if it’s a mirror and not portraits, a new one every day, I don’t know if I’ll recognize him. Let’s hope there are not so many three-eyed blondes with tentacle tattoos stirring under white shirt. - Will you… ask them not to harm me? - Them? - Hooded figures. You call them magnetic clouds. - How they can do harm? - Just ask them. Then, tomorrow I’ll come to see you after my work. *********** I can't hear him and that makes me nervous. I play my harp and walk, and then stop to return, and then walk again, I'm really nervous. I can see some pictures though, vague and unstable. The street, a lot of garbage, green spot in the distnce, some with red flags on the sidewalk, helicopters in the sky, wires are so beautiful across the purple clouds. Big green spot grows bigger. Vertical rails of the iron fence. He moves slower and slower, he must be afraid. But there is no magnetic clouds around, I asked them. Then he sees someone and stops. She is small, she wears grey hoodie and a long brown skirt. What’s he doing with this loser? Then she raises a hand and plays one note on a vertical metal bar. - Hi.