Читать книгу Tales Written by the Dying in Awe - Vysheslav Filevsky - Страница 25

Person looked at a photograph of his home. The house was far away. Person went into it in the mornings and lived there. He cleaned up, ate, slept in bed, and went out to his small garden and worked there. At night, everything was different. Person became larger and the house smaller.

They – Person and his house – flew together to a town that Person liked. There Person played with the house and treated it as a toy. He put it various places, sometimes even in the town square or in the middle of a street, and feasted his eyes on it. When a rare passerby or car came along, it passed and drove through the house, and Person never noticed them.

“How wonderful is it!” Person thought. “This is exactly how one needs to live in the material world: so that no one has a clue about your existence.”