Cafe on the bridge

Martin walked towards himself, slowly and without haste. He walked through dark alleys. He walked heavily up the stairs, not expecting anyone at home, and was very surprised when he saw the open door of his apartment. He clearly remembered that he locked the door with a key, and there weren’t many thieves in the city, and Martin knew them all from school. They wouldn’t behave like that. — Is there anyone in the apartment? — The man stood, not daring to enter. Then there were only two exits. The first is to call your neighbor so that he can help if something happens. Another option is to find out everything yourself. - Martin, I thought you weren’t coming. Well, why are you standing in the corridor, come in — A soft female voice unsettled him. He quietly swayed forward, and if not for his iron discipline. He probably would have fallen. But he closed the door. Slamming it. And with a bold step he entered his house. — Lari. What are you doing here? — He minted every word. — I came to pick myself up from this city. How much longer can you stay here? Everyone has already been waiting for you! — I’m not going to go anywhere. Especially with you. Lari. Did you come all this far just to say this? I am surprised. When we lived next door, you didn’t do things like that for me. — It’s in the past. Everyone is waiting for you. — the girl stood up and pulled him by the sleeve of his coat. But Martin resisted. — No, I won’t go anywhere today, or ever. And tell me who is everyone? When I ran away from my family, you didn’t see me off like that, standing on the platform. — The man pulled himself away. — Your mother… — Who considered me a disappointment to the family because I didn’t want to become a teacher. Somehow she quickly changed her shoes. — Your father… — With whom we quarreled because I did not want to move further in the army. Who else? - Your friends… - With whom all we did was discuss their problems. Of course, this is a great reason for me to return. Don’t hide behind Lari, My family doesn’t need me for nothing. — I… — Don’t lie, you weren’t waiting for me… Larry — He walked over and sat down on a tattered chair. She still stood there, motionless, waiting for his next action. But Martin lit a cigarette and decided to turn on the record player. He put the record down and the music began to sound under the needle. He didn’t care what his family thought of him. He was never something alive for them except as an object with a bunch of awards and titles. God, why did she even come? “I won’t leave until you come with me.” The girl made a pompously proud look and also sat down on the edge of the stool. Standing opposite the chair, Martin usually put his feet there. — I don’t care whether you leave or not. But you won’t stay in my house. — Martin, don’t kick me out. — The girl begged — You know I’m indifferent to the past. It is nothing more to me than a corpse. Although, I probably have more respect for corpses than for the past. In any case, if you don’t leave, I will leave. The girl did not move. Martin waited. And realizing that she was not going to leave. And stubbornness is still her character trait, which infuriates him. He got up and left. I went to the cemetery. It was quiet and peaceful there. If he doesn’t stay there until dawn, he’ll have to rent a hotel room. Or go to Pauline. At least. There he can laugh at what pisses him off. This made him happy. Walking through the darkest gateways, they ate and ate, holding themselves back from the temptation to run. But still in his memory was a memory associated with Lari, when they ran in the same way along the dark corridors, from her father. Martin remembered everything; more and more pictures flashed in his memory. But they faded away just as quickly as they surfaced. He couldn’t close the door of his memories. There was no way he could push it to the far corner of his subconscious. And only Pauline could help him do this. He ran into the stairwell in a hurry, and only there, under the light of the lamps, did he feel safe. This house. Pauline’s house was truly different from other houses. It was completely different; all its walls were covered with drawings of strange animals, they seemed to be larger and wider than others. Or is this an illusion? Martin couldn’t understand, he walked further and came across a woman who was laughing into the void and laughingly talking to herself. And Martin had the idea that in some way this woman reminded him of himself. In some ways they are similar. — Martin, what are you doing here? — A familiar voice came from above. — Pauline! I’m glad I found you! Why are you naked? “I’m reading a book, come up to me,” She shouted and disappeared into the depths of her apartment. Martin stood up and, seeing the open door, entered the room. From the first steps it made a strange impression on the man. It resonated with something in the man’s soul. He remembered his childhood, this apartment smelled so warm, warm colors and comfort reigned here. Unlike his apartment, it is cold and uninhabited. — Do you like it here? — Pauline came out in a nightgown, it was wine that it was a worn thing, but expensive for a girl. — Yes, but tell me, what were you doing on the stairs? — I read — Do they read naked? — Pauline giggled — Of course they read. There are books that you cannot read without being naked, they open your soul and you feel good; they overwhelm you with emotions, and you simply cannot be dressed. — Why on the stairs? — I don’t like filling the apartment with thoughts. You feel stuffy in the room. They are free from thoughts, and the corridor is the right place for them. — Tell me, do you have time to talk to me? — And what happened? — She sat down on a chair in the middle of the room and began to look at him carefully. Yawning at the same time. Martin took off his jacket. — You see, I came to my home, but immediately left there. After all, my past appeared there. It’s running after me. Can I hide with you? — Of course you can. Expensive. I can hide you here forever. And no one will see you or know that you are here. Trust me. I’ll just make some coffee. — she stood up from the metal can, where there was the remains of coffee, turned on the water tap and poured hot water into the can, then took a towel and began to drink the scalding drink, sips at a time. — Tell me Martin, why are you running from your past? What prevents you from hosting him and treating him to tea? — Dear Pauline, what bothers me is that sometimes in order to have a present or a future, you have to escape from the past, because it usually doesn’t let you go any other way. — Oh, yes, you’re right about that. So what was your past that drove you out of your home? “My past love,” Pauline made a pitiful face. And she went up to Martin to hug him. — Horrible, I don’t envy you, but it’s okay, you can sit here as long as you like, dear. Believe me, there is nothing here except books where you can escape, and half of that is the basis of nature and the world. -“I didn’t know that you loved philosophy,” he said, looking around the room, the walls of which were replaced by shelves lined with books, spine to spine, without a single gap — Oh yes, I love it very much. I like her so much, she is better than anything in the world. There is no lie in it, there is nothing in it that modern people usually love. — Only truth? What about the absence of God? — In philosophy there is no absence of God; it’s just that each philosophy depicts God from different sides. — Well, let’s assume, but tell me I’m a coward. Once he escaped from there. After all, in essence, she just wanted to take me back. But I do not want. Why can’t I not want some things or why should I like some things? Why? — Don’t know. My past also came to me. Along the telephone wires, it crept towards me. But I don’t want to see him. You know, every Tuesday a bell rings in my apartment, the call of which I am very afraid of. — Why — Martin sat closer to her, he peered into her eyes and saw extreme fear. The fear that she would have to again take on her shoulders the despair that she so wanted to get rid of. And He understood part of it. After all, this was not the first time Larry had come. She came on Wednesdays of every month and each time did not find him in the apartment, because he knew that she would come, he hid in a cafe, at work, and with friends, just so as not to meet her. But this time she broke her ritual and arrived on Thursday. And it took him by surprise. But he was almost in agreement with his soul. For the first time, he was ready to agree with her that everything was fine with him. But no, now he will have to fix everything. Again, go and talk to her and agree that she would not come on any day, but would come only on Thursday of every month, because only on Thursday he was ready to fight back with her; on other days, he was not in the mood to fight with her. Oh how hard and bad it is, how it all got to him. He felt like an animal in a zoo. The cage is large, but the frames of this cage are his. — You know, to tell the truth, that call is from the past. He calls me constantly, almost every month. This didn’t happen before. He calls me. And he wants me to go back to the past. As if he doesn’t know that the past for me is akin to a basement that you never go into. There is a way out from there. But there is no entrance, that’s all. And if you go there again, you won’t come out. You know Martin, I’m so afraid of this. I’m afraid to find myself again in these places from which I fled to this city. These people. Which seem to me too weak for this world and too boring. “I think all we need to do about this is get them out of this city once and for all, or escape ourselves, which is more likely.” Both together and escape. Or they will torture us to the end. — Hurry up and run away! — Martin still remembered that day, how he promised himself not to pick up any more suitcases, but what if there is no other way to deal with the past? Why not? Why can’t you just tell yourself as an excuse after escaping that it was all you could do and not blame yourself for it? — Yes, you’re right, all you can do is run away, but after talking, say goodbye one last time. So today is Thursday, I think we need to leave on Friday. “Dear, but it’s Friday today,” Pauline pointed to the clock, which had just struck midnight. — So we’ll leave today. After all, he arrives at night? — Martin made plans, and Pauline counted the seconds. — Yes, if he doesn’t find me at home, he will go looking for me, and if you leave him the address — He will definitely come to me and there we will talk together until dawn, and at dawn we will leave the city. That’s right, there’s no problem here. — But what about the things, photographs and people with whom we spoke? — Martin waved his hand, saying that this is a secondary problem and they won’t care about them, and it makes no difference to them about their own murdered past. Pauline agreed with him They got ready and went, Pauline dressed in black. Black pencil skirt — And red lips, along with a black jacket and pearl earrings. Martin wore a black shirt and black pants with a leather coat was a good combination. They quietly left the apartment and headed down the stairs so that no one would notice Pauline leaving. And they walked along the snowy streets. It was snowing. Martin was delighted, “No traces will be visible,” he thought. Everyone’s soul was empty. The soul evaporated somewhere and now hovered above the universe, staying somewhere not here, in another dimension in another life. They ate the body, but they were strong enough to drag it, due to the fact that neither Pauline nor Martin cared about it. Oh, why do you always have to decide something, why can’t you always live simply and calmly, like people live in villages. Although, probably, they ask themselves the same question, because they get tired of always looking at the same thing and they begin to think about why the people of the city get tired of the bustle, because movement is life. But for the most part, they don’t know that movement and bustle are different concepts. The fact that flour circles over a mug cannot be compared with the way a horse gallops, or the way a cheetah catches up with its victims. They walked past the ruins and unfinished houses, past the cafe where they were sitting, Pauline noted for herself how special there were a lot of people there today, and how happy the visitors were. Standing on the bridge now, she looked up at the stars, knowing only one thing. Life taught her a lesson again. Once again she failed to outwit the universe. And again the feeling of frozenness visited her, her chest began to tingle, why did she suddenly want to huddle in the farthest corner of the world and look at life from there? At least get out of all these films in which she plays for life and for herself, in the hope of one day sitting down and reviewing them. Snow was quietly falling on their heads when Martin and Pauline approached the edge of his city. The man turned around to check if she had chickened out, but she still stood next to him and for this he was deeply grateful to her.