The door to another world. Mystical stories

The door to another world. Mystical stories
Svetlana Mirrai

Reading this unusual book you will learn about fantastic worlds. A brownie, a Homunculus, a World of Ghosts, a World of Imagination and even love are waiting for you…

The door to another world

Mystical stories

Svetlana Mirrai

© Svetlana Mirrai, 2022

ISBN 978-5-0056-4922-5

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Seven brownie Stories

ACQUAINTANCE

– Timoshka, where are you a prankster? I hear some rustling. Where did you spend the night? Come tell me, what kind of bride did you have? – shuffling my slippers, I walked around the three-room apartment and talked to my invisible cat.

In response to my words, there was a strange sound that came from the kitchen.

Probably, Timoshka is climbing on the sideboard and rustling the packages that my wife Natasha left from last night.

– Well, I got a prankster!

But to my amazement, there was no cat. The kitchen was completely empty and glistened with cleanliness.

Strange thoughts immediately came into my head. Someone walks around the apartment, right? Maybe it’s a thief? And for safety, I took with me what was at hand, and it was a broom.

Now there was a noise in the living room, something resounding clattered on the floor. Bang!

«It looks like a flower has fallen from the windowsill»

I thought and already began to understand that this is definitely not Timoshka. After all, the cat was very smart and having lived with us for a long time never broke anything.

I ran into the room with a quick step and a broom in my hands, but out of surprise I sat down on the sofa that stood near the aisle.

There was a creature climbing up the curtain in the living room, something completely incomprehensible to me. It looked like a little man in a gray straw hat. He was climbing up like a rock climber climbing a mountain. At the same time, clinging to his little hands, he crawled and groaned loudly.

– Where are you going? – I calmly asked him, instead of a flurry of surging emotions.

– Yes, I am. I have to go upstairs,» the peasant grunted in response and continued to crawl, not paying attention to me.

– Wait, – I said.

It immediately seemed to me that there would be no danger from him and I became very interested in who I was dealing with.

– Who are you and where are you going?

– I’m in a hurry to get home, see? – without letting go of the curtain, the peasant said from above.

– Where is home, there’s a ceiling up there. Hit it when you reach the top.

– It’s your people’s ceiling. And we have a Non-Land beginning there.

– Wouldn’t… what?» I asked, confused.

Slowly and imperceptibly coming close to him.

– Non-fiction. Do you understand? The world in which brownies live, and we only go to work in your world. And I’ve been lingering here with you today.

– What’s your name? – I continued to ask my questions further.

– Zyuzya, – the brownie answered proudly.

«You have a funny name,» I said cheerfully.

– I know your name, you don’t have to tell me.

– And how? I asked, confused.

– Vasily is your name, like the cat from the next apartment. You are even sometimes confused.

«How do you know that?»

– I know all about you. We brownies are such a people, we know everything about people. And we write it down in our workbooks.

– And why?

– This is our job.

And then I took him by the leg, and began to pull him down from the curtain. Zyuzya began to resist with all his might, clinging to the curtain to crawl up. But suddenly his little shoe stayed in my hand.

– Vasily, give it to me, our things should not remain in your world, otherwise one of the worlds will simply disappear. «Do you understand?» the brownie said tearfully.

– Come on, you will come to me in the evening for seven days and tell the most interesting stories. And on the seventh day I will return your shoe.

– Well, well. He asked for it. Be it your way. I’ll be back!

And the room became quiet again, Zyuzya just disappeared into thin air and disappeared.

«He must have flown to his Non-land,» I thought.

The flower that was lying on the floor and the broken pot, as if nothing had happened, stood whole on the windowsill. Well, I was holding his tiny red shoe in my hand.

THE FIRST STORY