Sea Foam

      Summer dawned much earlier than at the beginning of spring, so the sun had been hanging in the sky for a bit longer and buoyantly called on all forms of life to wake up immediately. Neither shades, nor blinds, nor even thick dark curtains could hide from these soft and at the same time too intrusive rays. They lazily slid over a light pink blanket, then slipped unnoticed onto a gray carpet, and in the end climbed up to the ceiling on a monotonous faded wall.       At this moment, all the most tricky things began to happen. The dull matte surface suddenly transformed, turning into a coastline with snow-white sand scattered along a golden lake, the water surface of which rippled every morning because of a timid breeze. Barely noticeable ochre waves periodically reached out with their shaky handles, shrouded in a faint haze that hovered over the water in the early hours, to the shining endless shores of the ceiling and pulled its crystal white particles behind them. The beach was constantly changing shape and size, and there was no end in sight to these changes.       A strange long-drawn sound, clear and sonorous, like a pearl accidentally splashed onto the shore from the very heart of the ocean, reached Vivi from the wide-open window. “What is this?” she thought lazily, not even trying to open her eyes.       Despite the reproachful ringing of the alarm and the futile attempts of the ardent June sun to appeal to the origins of her conscience, she continued to lie flat on the bed. She fell into a doze again and again, not even trying to resist the mirages floating away. The blue waves from a recent dream did not want to let her go. They beckoned to her, to where peace and tranquility are hidden under a layer of cool water, begging her to give them a couple more priceless minutes.       But suddenly the sound was repeated, and Vivi reluctantly surfaced, opening her dull blue eyes. “Well, what else is there?” she rubbed the corner of her eye and turned to the window.       Mischievous rays of the sun made their way through the purple curtains, and the birds chirped loudly, discussing the news that had accumulated during the night. Summer was preparing to reach its peak and overcome another significant milestone on the way to its end.       Vivi sat up on the bed and stretched impressively, allowing each bone to fall into place. She got used to starting any morning with a light charge in order to quickly recover and get to work, but this time providence itself, gurgling and spilling over the ceiling, led her to the balcony.       The already familiar melody, the sound pouring out of the depths of the ghostly ocean, penetrated her from head to toe and swept away into the distance as quickly as it appeared. And fifteen minutes later, the girl was rushing down the stairs, taking her blonde hair into a messy bun and chewing on a slice of black bread as she went. All this time she was desperately struggling with curiosity, which eventually overwhelmed her and threw her under the very crest of the oncoming wave.       The street greeted her with a dazzling smile and dozens of alternating smells: mown grass, fragrant hyacinths and radiant lilies, an almost imperceptible trail of someone’s candy perfume and freshness long forgotten in these places — a distinct imprint on wet sand…       The ship of Life did not stop for a minute. Sometimes its passengers had a feeling of understatement, as if the ship was deliberately hiding from them a simple truth, as though it was aimlessly plowing the expanses of the boundless ocean, and not pursuing a higher goal, that it was only mindlessly enjoying all the beauties of this world, hoping to capture as much as possible before it disappears forever. But they were mistaken. The ship of Life went on as usual, adhering to the course once planned and believing that the best improvisation was a plan of action thought out in advance to the smallest detail.       Running along the side of the skyscraper, a whopper that dreamed of reaching the clouds someday, she abruptly turned the corner and came out to a pedestrian crossing. On the other side of the road, a dense mixed forest was spreading in different directions, and it was from there that these weird sounds came.       Cicadas chirped everywhere, dragonflies and hardworking bees scurried back and forth, nightingales sang in the greenery of the trees and people who had been doing Scandinavian walking since the morning were on a roll. Only one detail was missing — the most important one, the one for which Vivi threw everything and rushed here. “Excuse me,” she said to a passerby, “have you heard anything strange here?” “I’m afraid not,” the man in the plaid shirt and outlandish hat shrugged.       But before he could take a step, something really big flashed in the sky and obscured the sun. For a second, the passengers of the ship were stunned. They could not even think about such grandiose surprises, languishing all this time under the thickness of warmed water. There was an unusual noise of coastal waves, the hissing of sea foam and the sound that brought Vivi here this early morning — the singing of newly found whales. Mother and child sailed through a clear blue sky on a crest of snow-white clouds, forcing travelers to throw their heads back with all their might to get a better look at what was happening overboard.