Kaleidoscope. English edition

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Irina Bjørnø. Kaleidoscope. English edition

Introduction

I. Bjørnø

TREASURE HANT

The gift

The Сountess

The Danish Miss Pigli

The Pilot

Ecco

Izzia

The dog, which saw the Christ

The Prisoner of freedom

217 A

Per Gynt

Отрывок из книги

All of my work (all of my stories) is a fantasy of the author. All matches of names and events are pure coincidence! My style is mystical realism.

Dimitry had got a strange gift from his fate, not many people in the world had such a gift: he was able to find fake banknotes and stock bonds and sort them out from the real one printed in the National Bank. He could tot only distinguish but feel fake signature on the bank check or bank bonds. He didn’t know how he managed to do it. He just “knew” it as a famous chef knows how much salt or spices should he add into the famous sauce. And Dimitry – he felt the money, he felt it with his whole body, brain, fingers, as a pianist feels the music, as a lover feels the women body – with all his cells, with the whole being. He had been working in the financial department of criminality in the Scandinavian National Bank for many years. There were only a few experts in the world like him, but he could work without ultraviolet light lamps or infrared devices, except his antique magnifying glass, which he had got from his grandfather and used daily.

.....

After her mother and father passed away, she continued doing her mother’s job in the Russian church, where they opened a hospital for Russian soldiers. Her faith in God was undoubted, and she was involved in organisation of everything connected with the church, including the financial part. It gave her some money for existence and possibilities to play the role of the real Russian Countess. She had often appeared on local radio and sent the articles about the history of Russian church – of source old Russian church – and her personal stories of Russian Countess living in exile to woman’s magazines. These old magazines with her interviews and yellowed faded pages from past time, were gathering now dust on her coffee table, waiting for the new visitors, who came round to see her less and less.

She kept her personal stories for them, which she polished to perfection over many years of practice, repeating them again and again. She liked the story of the ladder, which is hold by the angels, and the souls of the dead climbing up on it to the sky, most of all. She used to tell this story a lot, as an example of Russian faith in God. Now, when she became old and was sick, she would not want to accept that it was her time to climb the ladder, wreathed with flowers and supported by angels, preferring to take medicine and suffer, but to be there on the Earth and play the role of the real Russian Countess.

.....