My ghost kingdom...

From the life of ghosts - 5. Or “Sometimes they come back”... ..Enchanted by the dark, foggy strawberry spring, enchanted by the shadow of violent death that wandered at night... Stephen King. From the author’s collection “Sometimes They Come Back”... Instead of an epigraph... There was a path here, winding whimsically along garbage cans, then, turning from the left corner, it carried human beings, easily and quickly, by passing the chaotic, square-multi-kilometer expanses of asphalt and concrete pavements and sidewalks. Now, even those reinforced with iron bars, which appeared more and more often in the city, prevented people from crossing the road because they walked parallel not to the sidewalks, but to the roadway... And the path was especially useful because it connected short and easy paths. ...I’ve been planning to talk about the corridors of Space - Time, about the City and about myself for a long time. I'm waiting for anyone who wants to know about the substance that makes up our entire City World. I'm waiting and having fun. What's funny to me is the anticipation attached to the observation itself. The workers arrived. Then they organized it. They threw large boxes, scraps of slats, and ripped open dirty bags across the path. Now the Road has changed, but, in essence, it still carried personalities: both human and feline and canine, along a short, winding path from point “A” to the yard “Be”. My essence is always an OBSERVER. I am part of History and inseparable from it. I trust my stories only to the Chosen Ones who can HEAR me. ...The OWNER came and opened the ENTRANCE TO THE GARAGE. The winter turned out to be snowy, the owner could not dig a spacious EXIT, but, because he was the OWNER, he found handymen who dug out the door and garage from under the snowdrifts. - No one will know now what the ORIGINAL HISTORY was. And the residents of Daor are repeating it now, retelling it inaccurately or uncertainly, changing the details, correcting them as they go... Large lumps of snow clogged the path. Her passing along essence has dried up. One person, not very fat or dense, could climb through the middle of the path, but slowly. Or a very, very thin passerby. No one will know what History was supposed to be from the very Beginning. However, History may only benefit from this. Because it will suddenly become unfinished and mysterious... And individual, brave travelers made their way along the path by a short route. And they got stuck on this difficult path and fell. And they stood up, dusting themselves off. And the travelers heard ridicule from other, cautious passers-by. And the brave travelers bravely endured their fall on the slippery boulders near the path. And other blows of fate. - Ah - ah, in Africa the rivers are this wide! - Ah - ah, in Africa the mountains are so high! - Little Red Riding Hood sang her song in the TV movie “About Little Red Riding Hood.” Neither Little Red Riding Hood nor the actress of the film knew how true the words of their song would be for our city: “You don’t need ravines, gullies, rivers, crayfish, take care of your hands and feet!” At the intersection of Minakva Street and Twelfth September Street, a NEW PASSAGE opened, not on the Surface and not across the street, but under it. And people walked in familiar lines, streamed past, half-consciously and subconsciously avoiding the unknown half-open door. And a stream of people flowed around the Black Pit in front of the entrance doors to the Birsky Passage Shopping Complex. The pit, which only in My Initial History was a closed and dense iron hatch, the beginning of the Sewer Street Well. And now it has turned into a Pit - a Trap, about a meter wide in its black circle and two meters deep... And the Black Pit became such a frightening and dangerous Trap set on people because cunning thieves stole the iron hatch of the sewer well and sold this hatch for scrap metal... Now the pit-trap is hidden in the sidewalk, next to the window of the “Pancake Shop”. Opposite the pit and the cafeteria, a tape recorder hidden or disguised as a radio was screaming incoherently like a rabid parrot. And there was no fencing tape in front of the pit, and no warnings were posted. And who will hear how all of you, people, imprecisely and uncertainly, transferring and finishing all things on the go, talking to each other and plopping towards the pit - a man-trap on the sidewalk! And this is during daylight hours! And what can happen in the middle of the night and darkness?... However, my story, sometimes, only benefits from this. If you can imagine how an awkward passer-by in the city center in the middle of the street and darkness falls into a hole and falls to his death! And no one will ever know what history could have been, what it should have been like from the beginning, if the utility workers had worked at least a little... And now I am not telling you a local horror story, but the truth about Our New Reality: There was a street Minakwa. At the intersection with Twelfth September Street. And in front of the entrance doors to the Birsky Passage Shopping Complex, under the windows of the Pancake Restaurant, a New Transition to another, incomprehensible reality opened. In the transparent, pale blue twilight of the initial, still very weak spring, he waited, patient and silent, for a New Transition to Other Worlds! And people walked into the distance and did not notice the new open road. In broad daylight, they have not yet fallen into the pit - the trap has not yet been dumped. But only to an inexperienced eye could that corridor-adapter seem like an ordinary pit two meters deep, an open sewer well, left without a cover due to the negligent actions of city utility workers. Now I’m telling you a completely different story. The well threatened disaster to an unprepared passerby, a stray dog ​​and a mischievous little child. Without mastering the spells to curb evil forces and the skills of witchcraft, falling into the pit, they would fly down more than two meters and break there, breaking their arms and paws, backs and legs. Those who are prepared for the Transition to Other Worlds will reveal Many Secrets. At the City Hall level they explain: - Blah, blah, blah! - And they don’t do anything else. The Prosecutor's Office added: - Blah, blah, blah. “And no Russian legislation was restored, none of those responsible for organizing the pit were identified, no one was brought to justice for negligence. No, the ghosts are not yet crawling out of the open pit. The ordinary world still remains on the edge of its ordinary reality. In the real world, for a ghost from another, otherworldly universe, what existence, what suitable pseudo-life?... In the real world, this is not existence for a ghost, not life... And this work is not for a poltergeist, an exorcist of spirits and otherworldly entities... But it’s unclear why utility workers wait for spring through the winter and never do anything, but just wait until people get hurt, and because of the negligence of utility workers, portals are created and opened into new, unknown and dangerous worlds!