Читать книгу Mission 777 Possible - Марина Спроуз - Страница 42

A dark face appeared in the Facebook1 window.

Oh… It also messaged me on Messenger. Let me reply.

– Hello.

The conversation began. Questions poured in: where are you from, who are you. Maybe a bot, not a person? In the photo – a smiling young man resembling an Arab. The Messenger chat dragged on, I no longer want to reply, his green dot lights up again on Facebook. If he’s online, maybe he’s a real person…

I found myself trapped. I felt it as soon as I replied to him… on Facebook. I grope the space with my hands, invisible; I’m locked in, my consciousness is locked, where am I?

“Where am I? I’m lost there,

Where I used to be;

At first, I sailed everything in waves,

Now I search for myself – through times.

Walked to unexplored places,

Dangerous, difficult, on paths.

Where am I? Tell me: Where am I?

The wind blows somewhere there…

And at night – darkness,

I’m lost, where – am I?

I won’t find myself,

Without help, and master

Searching for myself – everything is difficult,

But where – am I? I may find myself…

And won’t be lured by its lies,

Around me – no one deliberately.”

Evening. I’m at the computer desk. Facebook. The page of the dark face that lured me into a trap. Darkness. People emerge from the darkness, dressed in black. They are not alone, they keep coming, one after another, in a crowd. Men in black are walking, and I see them exiting and disappearing, showing me their backs. They march as if heading into battle.