Читать книгу Tales of Ghosts. Playing Another Reality. Edgar Allan Poe award - Alexandra Kryuchkova - Страница 22

Suddenly I felt someone’s gaze on me. I turned around and saw an Angel.

“Hello,” I whispered. “Have you come for me?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“The bonfire stories are still going on,” I tried to protest, as I felt cozy in the fog that hid the faces of the storytellers, and I was about to share my own.

“Don’t be upset!” the Angel smiled as he read my mind. “The bonfire will not go out for a long time, and stories will follow each other until the last soul leaves the Earth. Now you have to go.”

I looked at the Man. For some reason, I didn’t want to say goodbye to him.

“Well, go,” he patted my shoulder. “I will find you later…”

“In the City of the Sun or in the Land of Dreams?”

“Wherever it is written in the Tablets,” the Man sighed.

The Angel held out his hand to me, and we walked away from the bonfire.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To the Chancellery.”

“What about the queue? Or…”

“No… however, there are exceptions to every rule.”

We stepped abruptly out of the fog and found ourselves on the outskirts of the City, flooded with the Sun, at the entrance to a tall building. I noticed several angels bypassing the queue to lead inside the souls guarded by them. We followed them in. The Angel asked me to wait for him on a bench at the ajar door to the Courtroom, next to others like me waiting out of turn.

“What a pity,” sighed the Boy sitting to my right.

“Pity? For what?” I decided to clarify.

“We are here and not there,” he answered sadly.

“Why?” I asked, not understanding what he meant. “And where is ‘there’?”

“I want to be an angel,” the Boy sighed again. “‘There’ means in the general queue. And we are here… There is almost no chance to become angels from here.”

“Why not?” I wondered, still understanding nothing.

“My grandma used to say that all children leaving the Earth become angels. Outside the queue, only exceptions are serviced.”

A devil’s head popped out of the Courtroom.

“Shit! What the Hell are you talking about?! Shut up you both, exceptions! In this Hall, the most interesting begins! And I can’t hear a damn thing because of your chatter!”

“I’m awfully sorry,” I whispered apologetically, and involuntarily walked over to the ajar door.

The Moonlight Sonata was playing there, the lights were dimmed. The judges were ready to listen, frozen in anticipation. The left bowl of Libra tilted almost to the limit, although it contained only one scroll of jubilant demons. On the screen were projected images from the earthly life of yet another soul…