Trafika Europe 13 - Russian Ballet

A Light in the Night

is a gray curtain swaying, blocking out the light of day, and soon all that is left before his eyes is a spot of light, forming itself into an endless tunnel with a visible glow at the far end. And he falls into the tunnel, towards the light. “Oh sure, I am familiar with this optical illusion, even now the preachers’ tales hold no allure for me…” His body is gone, only his sense of hearing still remains. The radio is on in the next room, and Ruslanova’s voice sings: “Ribbons-bows, ribbons-bows!...” – imagine that – a trip to the other side to the accompaniment of Ruslanova’s wails. “Ribbons into knots!..”

Chapter 1

“Real ebony” – these words were the first thing that came to Ilya Ilych’s mind when he opened his eyes. No one had spoken the odd phrase, it was more of an echo of recent events. He was surrounded by emptiness. Something akin to a plain without a single landmark on it. But even the substance under him eluded identification. There was some kind of firmness there, but that was all. And there was also a clear recollection of a dwindling

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