I recently met with one old, still school, friend Slavik. He, having learned about my interest in all sorts of unusual cases from life, told this story ...

According to Slava, this incomprehensible epic began back in those distant years, when he was an eighth-grader at a Novosibirsk secondary school.

Once, on New Year's holidays, a friend from a small Ural town came to visit him. New Year then began in Novosibirsk with wild frosts under forty. Although the Siberian and Ural boys are not afraid of cold weather, even in such weather they could not drive the puck on the rink for a long time on the ice ringing from the fierce cold. Therefore, willy-nilly, Slavka had to hang around at home with her Ural friend Vasya.

In those days, the kid had no computers, no smartphones with tablets, no color TVs with a bunch of movies and programs to direct the seething energy in a safe direction. So the boys languished from boredom, sitting in a large apartment and having already played hide and seek and unpretentious board games.
But soon, locked in frost and in a confined space, the boys found entertainment for themselves. Having opened a thick telephone book, we sat down at the device and let's call everyone at random - to congratulate everyone on the New Year. Fortunately, both Slavkin's parents are at work and there is no one to stop the fuluganism.

The guest Vaska especially liked this kind of entertainment. At home, in the two-story barracks where his family lived, there were no such miracles of civilization as a telephone. Again, there is a chance to get acquainted with the city dude. To show off later in front of their Ural friends ...

In the directory, in addition to telephone numbers and addresses, the full names of subscribers were registered. So the boys chose mainly female names. Well, they didn’t disdain funny surnames either, in order to soak some unsightly joke to the unsuspecting poor fellow who picked up the phone. If the surname is Kill-Wolf or Golopupenko, there will always be something to say and how to “amuse” a person!

Harmlessly having fun in this manner, the guys dialed another number. The phone at Slavka's house had an additional pipe, so that both could listen and talk at the same time.

At the other end of the line to Vaskino, a greeting “Hello! Happy New Year! I wish you happiness in your personal life…etc.” a young female voice replied:

Thank you!!! It's so nice to hear that!.. And who are you?..

It should be noted here that the boy Vaska, who grew up on the outskirts of a small Ural town, has a provincial complex aggravated in civilized Novosibirsk. In addition, the name Vasya, such a rustic, he was a little embarrassed. Here he is, in conversations with the answering girls and girls, he introduced himself as Ruslan, then Timur, or something else, but not with his real name. And to this girl who answered affably, he called himself another beautiful pseudonym invented on the go.

And the girl turned out to be the same, as indicated in the phone book - Sukhorukova Lyudmila.

My comrade Slavka remembered these first and last names. In addition, as it turned out many years later, even then the first prophecy sounded in them. But more on that later...

In short, Vaska talked with a very romantic and sociable Lyudmila for two hours. And then, having abandoned the phone book with other numbers, all subsequent vacation days he began to call only her. Even when the weather improved, and Slavka and other guys were dragging him to the street, Vasyok was looking for any reason to return home. And there he instantly twisted the phone disk and dialed the number of his beautiful stranger.

Of course, he, oh, how he wanted to meet the mysterious Lyudochka! But, firstly, she lived very far away, somewhere near the Tolmachevo airport. And secondly, Vaska turned out to be shy to the point of horror. Plus, she sounded like she was in her twenties. Those. older than the boy in love for five years, or even more.

In general, they did not have a goodbye, and the holidays ended. Just before leaving, Vaska decided to tell Lyudmila his real name, and at the same time offer to exchange addresses in order to correspond.

But for some reason this time the conversation between the doves did not go well. Warbler hung on a parallel tube and heard. As a friend, it was either strainedly silent, or it was carrying hopeless nonsense. Where did all his sparkling jokes go, with which he bombarded the girl before? ..

Finally, after another long pause, Vaska blurts out in a trembling voice for no reason:

Linda, I love you!!!

Warbler even covered his mouth so as not to neigh.

But what happened next was like a bolt from the blue for both boys...

After Vaska's words, silence reigned at the other end of the wire, and then there was a creaky and most repulsive old woman's laugh!!! This terrible laugh lasted for a minute, and then the same disgusting rasping voice said:

Do you know how old I am, Vasyatka?! ..

And again, at the other end, they burst into a hoarse old woman's laughter.

But the dumbfounded boys were not laughing at all. And quite the contrary. A feeling of unimaginable horror gripped them both. Needless to say, even without that, Vasily, who was slowing down that day, completely lost the gift of speech. And the handset just fell out of my hands.

How did they know his name on the other end?!

Neither he nor his friend Slavka spoke of him!..

And what kind of old witch is this, into which the sweet-voiced Lyudochka suddenly turned?!

Having recovered a little, the boys decided to run to Slavka's classmate and ask her to dial Lyudmila's number. They didn't dare to do it themselves.

The girl responded to a simple request and called the number indicated. To the question: “Please call Lyudmila Sukhorukov to the phone,” she heard in response a creaky old woman’s voice:

I'm listening to…

To say that the boys were puzzled would be an understatement. Especially crushed in his pure youthful dreams Vaska. Until the very departure, he walked, as if lowered into the water, ceasing even to smile. Slavkin's parents even got worried - did he get sick?

And the next day he was taken to the train and the sad Vasyok went home to the Urals.

Fate so decreed that friends Slavka and Vaska after those New Year holidays did not see each other for many, many years. At first they corresponded, and then it was interrupted. In rare letters, none of them recalled the unpleasant episode with Lyudmila Sukhorukova ...

But the ways of the Lord are inscrutable, and it often happens that former acquaintances scattered in different corners of the earth are suddenly brought together again by some incomprehensible force of chance.

Here are the paths, adults are already uncles, Stas and Vasily crossed in one Black Sea sanatorium, after almost four decades.

Slavka went to this cultural and recreational institution to see friends. Here I came across Vaska, who was vacationing on a preferential social ticket. Despite the age that changed the appearance of both, the men immediately recognized each other. As usual, sat down to celebrate the meeting. It was over a “cup of tea” that Vasily told his childhood friend his further story. And whether she was connected with that same Lyudmila or not, decide for yourself ...

After returning home from New Year's Novosibirsk, although not immediately, but the stranger Lyudmila, who had so excited his boyish soul, Vasya gradually forgot.

Went to the army. Married. The child was waiting. But, unfortunately, the little daughter did not live long. Before reaching even a year old, she died of some kind of sore. After that, he and his wife tried several more times to have children, but did not work out for various reasons. And then, the still young spouses completely fled.
After the divorce, Vaska lived in a civil marriage with several women, but in a serious way it did not work out with anyone. He was never a homebody: either with friends in the garage, or in the forest for berries and mushrooms. There are few housewives who will humbly look at the eternally absent peasant. Yes, even wash his ne'er-do-well and take care of him. So Vaska spent the last years without a woman. But he is his own master. He wanted to - with the peasants overturned a little, he wanted - he was going fishing or picking mushrooms.

On one of these forest trips, he witnessed a strange and even terrible episode. As often happened, he went alone for mushrooms. The places have been found for a long time, the company is not particularly useful here. Quickly scored the duty bucket and home.

Having already decided to return to the half-station on the train, he suddenly heard sounds incomprehensible to the forest thicket. Like a chicken cackling. Yes, it's loud! Has it really wandered into the thicket and got lost?! ..

I went to the sound of clucking and soon saw a small gap behind the pines and fir trees. As he got closer, he paused. Painfully unexpected picture opened. A hefty old stump rose on a small forest bald spot. On the mossy surface of it stuck out about a dozen strong redheads. And around the stump, a completely naked old woman circled skipping around! It was not very clear because of the trees, but it seemed to Vasily that the grandmother was at least ninety, or even hundreds of years old. The skin is yellow, wrinkled, covered the ridge of the spine and convex p?

Bra. Long gray hair is loose, dangling back and forth from her jumps. Therefore, the face cannot be disassembled as it should. Most of all, the crazy grandmother resembled a dancing skeleton.

In one bony hand, the old woman clutched a knife, and in the other, by both paws, she firmly held a black rooster with a small fleshy comb. Where she got a rooster in the forest remained a mystery, but Vasya guessed instantly that a skiff would come to him soon.

The rooster, it seems, also had no doubts about this, flapped its wings and unsuccessfully tried to escape from the tenacious old woman's claws. But as it turned out, it was not he who made the clucking sounds, but the grandmother herself!

Having galloped in her wild dance around the stump for another five minutes and cackled to her heart's content, the grandmother on a gallop with an elusive movement took off the head of the kochet… And then the most terrible thing began! She began to drink blood splashing from the headless bird's neck, putting a stump with feathers in her mouth!
Periodically breaking away from the nightmarish "vessel", she poured gurgling blood over her face and chest. Vasily almost turned inside out! But afraid to find himself, he continued to stand without moving behind the trees.

The headless rooster flapped its wings for some time and twitched in Grandma's hand. And when it calmed down, she threw him aside and, continuing to cackle and growl, staged a real sodomy on a stump, which, of course, I will not describe here.

Vasily, unable to stand the nightmarish sight anymore, turned around to get away as soon as possible, when suddenly a branch under his foot cracked, and grandmother's clucking immediately stopped.

And Vasya, without turning around and without wasting a second, has already rushed away through the bushes and windbreak, not making out the road ...

I could not stop for a long time, on the run I lost half of the mushrooms collected from the bucket. It all seemed that a terrible old woman was rushing on the heels and was about to grab from behind with her bony, bloody fingers.

Because of this hectic running around, despite the fact that he always had a good bearing in the forest, he lost his way. Just then, it started to rain. The forest darkened as if in the evening. The trees swayed ominously. And behind every bush and deadwood, this Baba Yaga seemed to be.

Nevertheless, after two hours of wandering, I got out to one stop. Not the one that was planned in advance. Commercially, it was not easy to carry him aside. Although with a great unplanned delay, but got on a passing train. It takes about an hour to get home. Decided to take a nap on the way after long forest wanderings and nervous adventures. In the train car, the light is dimmed, it does not hit the eyes. The best thing is to hang out for an hour ...

But Vasya did not have time to start pecking his nose, when he felt someone's gaze in his gut. As soon as he opened his eyes, he forgot to think about sleep. What a dream! In general, I almost rushed into the aisle from surprise!

Across one seat, directly opposite, sat an old woman. No, she was not naked. And the hair is hidden under a handkerchief. And the cock blood did not flood the distorted crazy face, but ...

It was her!

The same Baba Yaga from the forest!!

Vasily went cold with horror. Involuntarily glanced over his shoulder to determine the number of passengers. Unfortunately, it was a weekday and it was already late. In different corners of the car, three or four pensioners doze off. Opposite the sinister old woman is not an option at all.

And the old woman sits and does not take her yellow eyes off the peasant. He wants to burn a hole right with his eyes, or something! Eyes something directly burn in the twilight, like a predator!
It seemed that she read all his thoughts and was aware that he was watching her there in a clearing in the forest ...

How Vasya got through to the first suburban station, he does not know. But approaching it, he decided not to wait for the central station (where he needed to), but to get off here. To the house on the fold: by tram or shuttle bus to get. If only to quickly hide away from the piercing eyes of a nightmarish old woman.

Ten minutes before the long-awaited station, standing shaking in a spitting vestibule, away from the terrible granny.

Finally the train stopped. The man jumped out and breathed a sigh of relief ... But then he choked. Grandma, this damn Yaga, also crawled out onto the platform !! Only from the other end of the car! The train stops here for three minutes. Already moved! Vaska, without hesitation, again jumped into the moving car.

Standing in the vestibule, I watched with satisfaction the granny floating by, remaining on the platform. Fuu! Finally got off! That's an obsession!!..
But the old woman did not even look at the unlucky man. She was rummaging around in her basket.

Vasya returned to the car, sat down in his seat and finally calmed down. Maybe it all seemed to him? No, not what happened in the forest. Everything was real! Even if it's creepy, of course! But what happens. Everyone goes crazy in different ways. So the granny, you see, flew off the coils in her old age. Yes, and God be with her! .. Or rather, the devil! Natural Baba Yaga - bone leg! The old woman's legs are really made of bones!.. And her hands, too.

And with a fright, he took the usual grandmother-passenger for a witch! Exactly, it was! And grandma doesn't care about me. She just sat there staring at one point. It happens with grandmothers. And I just ended up on this trajectory ...

When the electric train froze with a hiss at the final stop - the central station, Vasya slowly went out into the vestibule and already put his foot on the step to get onto the platform, when he suddenly heard behind him:

Give me your hand... Vasyatka...

A thought flashed - someone I knew ... Although no one had called him "Vasyatka" for forty years. But turning around, he almost fell down from the iron steps!!!
Baba Yaga!!! The one! As in the forest, as the one who got off three stations ago !!! But how did she end up in the car with me again?! ..

Now he had no doubts. This is a real witch! Doomedly giving the old woman a hand, he helped her down the steep steps to the platform.

Babkin's palm reminded him of a dry old branch. The same hard and rough. But I held on tight!

Having resigned himself to his fate, the man was already expecting the worst. Maybe he will slash his throat with his sharp knife, like that rooster, maybe he will turn him into a kid ...

But the grandmother only looked intently into the face of the timid peasant with her predatory amber eyes and said, smiling:

Vasyatka…

And hobbled quietly away, bent over in three deaths. It didn’t fit in my head that only three hours ago this wreck was writing a naked pretzel around a forest stump and irrigating everything around with cock’s blood! ..

Vaska never saw the crazy old woman again. Neither in the city, nor in the forest, where he began to drop in much less often.

But the meeting with the ominous grandmother did not pass without consequences.

The hand he held out to her at the station soon began to ache and dry. The fingers began to bend and twist worse and worse. The skin up to the shoulder turned yellow and wrinkled. And two years later, the hand and forearm generally lost sensitivity.

For this reason, Vasily received a disability. Well, accordingly, the state provided a ticket to the sanatorium. Just in that Black Sea, where fate again brought him together with his childhood friend Slavik ...

Scary stories are called scary because they scare you, you know? - Baba Yaga explained, - The listener involuntarily puts himself in the place of a participant in these events. Realized?

Not really, - Bayun grumbled, - Why isn't my story scary?

I didn't say it wasn't scary. But personally, I don’t get scared when I hear a story about a girl who broke a three-liter jar of sour cream.

Explain.

I explain, - Yaga nodded, - Now, if you hear a story in which someone broke a bottle of vodka, will you be scared?

No, - Bayun grimaced, - Vodka is nasty.

But Ivan and Koshchei will be scared. Very very! They even grab their heads. Do you understand what I mean?

Bayun scratched his paw behind his ear.

Now I understand. Stories in which the essence is reduced to the deterioration of a product will be terrible for those who love this very product. For me - sour cream, for Ivan and Koshchei - vodka.

Umnichka, - Yaga praised, - Now let's do it again. You can leave the girl as the main character - the events that happen to someone innocent and defenseless will make the listener worry more than usual.

Understood, - Bayun nodded importantly, - So, once upon a time there lived a girl who killed the Beast one morning...

Stop! Events must be scary!

Do you think the Beast had fun?

How difficult it is with you, - Yaga sighed, - Such a story will scare only Monsters. And some will start to be afraid of little girls, just in case. A scary story should be scary for everyone! It must be creepy and sinister! Understand?

Of course, - Bayun snorted, - How do you like the beginning of the story: “one night a girl hacked someone to death in an ominous fog.” A? Everyone will be scared.

And why is that?

So after all, it is not known who exactly she hacked to death there.

Why fog?

Adds mystery. Every scary story must have fog.

The girl who cuts the Monsters does not look naive and defenseless, - said Yaga, - Let me come up with a scary story for you now so that you understand what I mean.

Try it, - Bayun nodded mockingly.

Yaga thoughtfully rubbed the wart and sat down in an armchair.

One day a little girl was returning home from her grandmother. The hour was late, the rays of the sun were getting dimmer, and the darkness was getting blacker.

And the fog?

When the girl approached the forest through which she had to go, it became completely dark, - Yaga continued, - As soon as she took two steps through the forest, she found herself in a thick fog, through which she did not even see her hands. But the girl knew that she needed to go straight, and then she would come out to her house - so she put her hands forward so as not to hit the tree, and went.

I'm not afraid, - Bayun snorted, - Will she kill someone in the fog?

Very soon the girl went out to her house and was so delighted that she was not even surprised that the fog was left behind. She went into the house and saw an old man and an old woman there, who looked at her with eyes full of horror. “Who are you?” she asked. “We are your parents,” the old man replied. The girl did not believe them, because her parents were young and could not grow old in one evening. “I was only gone for a few hours!” - she said. “No, daughter, you disappeared fifty years ago,” the old woman answered with tears. The girl was frightened and also cried, she was very scared. “Don't cry, baby. Now you have been found and everything will be fine, ”the old man told her. They put her on the bed and she fell fast asleep.

Unusual, but not terrible.

And at night, the old man and the old woman gathered a huge fire on the street, - Yaga winked, - “The evil spirit is mocking us,” the old man convinced the old woman, “he appeared to us in the guise of our missing daughter to break our spirit and our faith, but I bit him. Take the rope and tie him up before he wakes up. We won't let him bully us anymore. And do not listen to what he will shout to you - this is another deception "...

So stop! - Bayun waved his paws, - This is too much! It's not an evil spirit!

But is it scary? - Yaga chuckled, - And no one had to chop, and the sour cream was intact.

Come on with such scary stories, grandma. You scare scare, but you need to know the measure! As I imagine, even the tail begins to tremble!

So the holidays came, and with them - a trip to visit my grandmother.

Little Lenka loved such trips more than anything in the world - no more school for you, gymnastics clubs, boring textbooks and school hooligans. But there is a spacious and quiet grandmother's apartment, grandfather's tales and a forest under the window. It was perhaps the most beautiful. Only a playground and a driveway separated the house from the small forest. Old, full of potholes and cracks in the asphalt. And what wonderful puddles were obtained from these pits!

And of course summer friends and comrades. Playing in the yard until dark, racing wild strawberries and blueberries, and outfitting expeditions into the woods without parental permission. One day, having gone deep into the forest to "search for treasure", a group of kids really discovered a mysterious mound. True, instead of the treasures of the goblin, there was a cat buried by someone in it, but this find did not repulse the enthusiasm of the children. The cat was given to a secondary burial, as an apology, blades of grass with strawberries strung on them were placed on the grave, and the expedition went deeper into the thickets.

The second find was more interesting. The thing found was most similar to a small galosh, only it was made of thin silvery metal. The engraving in the form of schematically depicted herbs served as a decoration for the galosh. The children passed the strange thing to each other, examined and wondered what it was and how they should proceed with the find. You can’t drag it home - firstly, the parents will arrange an interrogation with passion and, most likely, the shoe will be taken away. And second, how do you decide who gets the value? Three guys, and one galosh.

In the end, it was decided to make a new treasure out of it. They quickly chose a place under a conspicuous bush, dug a hole, lined the bottom with burdock leaves and solemnly lowered a galosh on the leaves. She shone so beautifully against the background of soft green leaves! Lenka could not stand it, snatched the find from the hole and tried it on her left leg. She showed off in front of her comrades, showing them her tongue and teasing that none of them was worthy of wearing a silver slipper, for which she received a couple of pinches and was left without a galosh. Galoshes were measured in turn. She climbed equally well on all children's legs, sat comfortably on both the right and left legs, and the children played with her for a long time before finally hiding it.

The next day flew by unnoticed, and after dinner the friendly company gathered again in the yard. This time the older guys joined them. At first, they made funny puzzles and riddles for the kids, and then they switched to scary stories. Here they talked about ghosts, and about the surrounding maniacs, and about ghouls, and about werewolves, and about goblin with mermaids and witches. Lenka absorbed each story with all her being, numb with sweet horror and imagining how a procession of bluish ghosts was floating along this road on a dark, moonless night. As a mysterious tower rises beyond the forest on strictly defined nights, and from the upper window a magic owl looks around the surroundings with yellow round eyes. And God forbid any of them get caught in the eye! Eat, eat and do not think!

So the holidays came, and with them - a trip to visit my grandmother.
Little Lenka loved such trips more than anything in the world - no more school for you, gymnastics clubs, boring textbooks and school hooligans. But there is a spacious and quiet grandmother's apartment, grandfather's tales and a forest under the window. It was perhaps the most beautiful. Only a playground and a driveway separated the house from the small forest. Old, full of potholes and cracks in the asphalt. And what wonderful puddles were obtained from these pits!
And of course summer friends and comrades. Playing in the yard until dark, racing wild strawberries and blueberries, and outfitting expeditions into the woods without parental permission. One day, having gone deep into the forest to "search for treasure", a group of kids really discovered a mysterious mound. True, instead of the treasures of the goblin, there was a cat buried by someone in it, but this find did not repulse the enthusiasm of the children. The cat was given to a secondary burial, as an apology, blades of grass with strawberries strung on them were placed on the grave, and the expedition went deeper into the thickets.
The second find was more interesting. The thing found was most similar to a small galosh, only it was made of thin silvery metal. The engraving in the form of schematically depicted herbs served as a decoration for the galosh. The children passed the strange thing to each other, examined and wondered what it was and how they should proceed with the find. You can’t drag it home - firstly, the parents will arrange an interrogation with passion and, most likely, the shoe will be taken away. And second, how do you decide who gets the value? Three guys, and one galosh.
In the end, it was decided to make a new treasure out of it. They quickly chose a place under a conspicuous bush, dug a hole, lined the bottom with burdock leaves and solemnly lowered a galosh on the leaves. She shone so beautifully against the background of soft green leaves! Lenka could not stand it, snatched the find from the hole and tried it on her left leg. She showed off in front of her comrades, showing them her tongue and teasing that none of them was worthy of wearing a silver slipper, for which she received a couple of pinches and was left without a galosh. Galoshes were measured in turn. She climbed equally well on all children's legs, sat comfortably on both the right and left legs, and the children played with her for a long time before finally hiding it.
The next day flew by unnoticed, and after dinner the friendly company gathered again in the yard. This time the older guys joined them. At first, they made funny puzzles and riddles for the kids, and then they switched to scary stories. Here they talked about ghosts, and about the surrounding maniacs, and about ghouls, and about werewolves, and about goblin with mermaids and witches. Lenka absorbed each story with all her being, numb with sweet horror and imagining how a procession of bluish ghosts was floating along this road on a dark, moonless night. As a mysterious tower rises beyond the forest on strictly defined nights, and from the upper window a magic owl looks around the surroundings with yellow round eyes. And God forbid any of them get caught in the eye! Eat, eat and do not think!
But all good things come to an end sooner or later, and parents began to call their children home. Lenka went home too.
There were no lights in the courtyard for several entrances, but there was no absolute darkness, and Lenka walked slowly, carefully looking at her feet and thinking about the horror stories she had just heard. The familiar door to the entrance opened with difficulty, habitually creaking. There was no light in the entrance either, and she almost felt her way up the stairs, counting the steps.
First... second... third...
The front door creaked loudly. Maybe one of the tenants was late?
Fourth...fifth...
When the flight of stairs ended, Lenka thought that the steps of a person could not be heard. Probably waiting for his eyes to get used to the darkness. And here is the second flight.
First step... second... third...
A heavy sigh was heard in the entrance, and the girl stumbled on the fourth step.
Fifth... sixth...
From below - shuffling steps. Slow, old.
Lenka instantly slipped through the second floor and cautiously looked down. On the railing, brightening in the darkness, there was an even brighter spot, and in its outlines a human hand was guessed. Only the fingers were too long, and they seemed to curve too strangely.
She ran up the third flight of stairs as fast as she could. Then she stopped between floors and listened. The footsteps seemed to have also accelerated and sounded different. One foot stepped softly, slightly rustling on the floor, while the other shuffled much louder and slightly knocked, stepping over the step.
Lenka began to climb even more hastily, but she stumbled on the steps invisible in the darkness and again began to count them to herself so as not to be mistaken again. She tried not to think about the rather painful bruise.
First... second... third... fourth... fifth...
The steps sounded too close - the pursuer, invisible in the darkness, stepped on the first step of the same flight.
Lenka squealed and rushed forward.
Up-up-up - turn. And repeat again. And further.
She barely had time to withdraw her hand when someone else's hand touched the railing in the same place. Oh, this time Lenka saw her hand better. Clawed, long-fingered palm with knotty phalanges. And there were three phalanges on each finger. Everything inside the girl broke off, she pressed her hands to her face, covering her mouth twisted in horror, and an unknown person took advantage of the moment, grabbing the girl by the ankle. Lenka howled plaintively and rushed to run, pulling her leg out of someone else's grip.
A step, a step, another step...
The steps from behind were approaching, but the native door was also approaching.
Lenka finally found herself near the door, drumming on it with her fists:
- Grandma, open up! Grandma, hurry!
And the unknown from behind was approaching, and Lenka turned around, pressing her shoulder blades against the door and preparing to somehow protect herself.
An ancient old woman stood opposite the girl. Wrapped up in a heavy-smelling shaggy short fur coat, unkempt, in a long, wide skirt. In the darkness, a silver slipper gleamed on one of her feet, the other foot was bare, with the same long strange fingers as on her hands. The old woman took another deep breath, as if sniffing the air, and held out her hand.
Lenka hit the door with her whole body:
- Grandma, hurry up!
* * *
The grandmother, dozing in front of the TV, shuddered, waking up as soon as her granddaughter banged on the door. Hurry. Could she come sooner? Old legs do not want to go, the old head does not think well from sleep ...
When Grandma finally opened the door, the landing was quiet and empty. Only a couple of moths hovered under the ceiling, near a brightly burning light bulb.