This page is dedicated to my short stories, more precisely to English versions of them as I write in Russian. Here you can read only the stories of my dolls. I don't feel like good translator to avoid stylistic mistakes easily - English and Russian are so different and besides my other "prose" sounds a bit surrealistic even in Russian.

Words are flying like birds.

The Stories of My Dolls.

2. The Sea within the Soul.

(The story about Violoncellist Leo.)

I haven't translated it yet.

1. Stone Biscuits.

(The fable about fiddler-centaur Sebastian.)

Sebastian was born on the 14th of February in a family of decent centaurs, who had abandoned all hopes to bring an heir into the world. And when a beauty Eloise has given birth to a long-awaited son and an heir in the stormy February night that clewed sky and earth into one snowy clew, his life had been already predetermined. Sebastian's father who was a warrior and a king's councillor, surly and masterful, declared that his son would become a warrior and afterward would take up councillor's post at any price. Delicate health of a newborn child was not a telling argument for him. "A real centaur must be a warrior", thought Councillor, "where else but on the military service can a real centaur show his worth, his valour and vigour?"

Kind and sensitive Eloise was admiring opal eyes, snowy white skin and jet-black hair of her son when a stinging thought pierced her heart: "All these are signs of cruel fate." She dreamed of the February night and its contrast of black and white seemed painful to her. But life was going on, Councillor was smiling at his wife's worries and bringing up his son strictly. Despite all mother's worries and fear regular training didn't intensify weakness of her son's health but blow it away like fleeting smoke. Archery, stone throwing and race gave much pleasure to the young centaur, so his father was pleased and Sebastian - happy.

Well, Sebastian grown up and became a handsome and strong youth. His success surpassed all imagination, all competitions and tournaments were mirth for him, and he has always won gracefully and easily as if picking a fragile daffodil. Centaurs admired Councillor's son and even the king honoured him with a merciful smile. All dreams were achieved.

Sebastian accompanied his father in all campaigns and the mother waited for them by a window embroidering or reading sonnets. But once she has had a strange dream that she baked vanilla biscuits, laid them in a beautiful dish and was going to put it on a table, but when thin porcelain touched wood the fragrant patties turned black like stones. Eloise was weeping bitterly for the whole morning.

Some days later Councillor and Sebastian have returned, they were happy and calm - they brought the victory with them and the king conferred silver mascots on them in reward for their loyalty and bravery. The mother kept all her grief and foreboding in herself and said nothing to the men, as it was not the warriors' business to dry tears of the sorrowful.

Everything was peaceful, everybody was joyful but centaurs began to notice unpleasant change of Sebastian's nature - he grew arrogant and was even bold to cheek the king! Such behaviour was unforgivable, but he was forgiven. General admiration of his talents and feats went down like the sea at the time of ebb-tide.

The word "boredom" became a favourite word for the young centaur, everything was boring for him: reviews - boring, tournaments - boring, honour, valour, loyalty - all pointless words - absolutely boring! Everything was simple, everything was just at hand, there were no difficulties, no mysteries and riddles, he had no enemies, but friends his fame had.

His father was very angry; he cursed direly and was even ready to knock the nonsense out of the wayward boy, but he never did. The boy grew up and decided to rule his life without any help; he loathed stuffy air of hothouses and mould of castle passages. So a bitter quarrel broke out between the father and the son. Sebastian hurled his mascot into a corner and left a kingdom and his home without asking for king's merciful permission. And in the same night poor Eloise dreamt about stone biscuits again.

For a long, long time Sebastian has been wandering along alien roads and paths, his clothes got frayed, his feet covered with mud ached, and sweat glimmered on his forehead. He didn't know what to do; he was a warrior and Councillor's son - wars and reviews were his life, but he hated them.

In the first year of Sebastian's wandering his fame fed him, in the second - mercy, and in the third year his legs fed him. And in so long time he didn't find something that could fit his nature and abilities. So he was nearly in despair, but once in the morning he has met strange people - two gypsies - a brother and a sister. Their faces and clothes were dusty, their feet were bare and black, but their dark eyes were sparkling cheerfully. The gypsies were sitting at a side of the road and eating biscuits, two odd instruments on a cloth beside them. The instruments were marvelous - smooth and shimmering with fine silver strings, one instrument was blue and the other - red. These people and their bizarre instruments seemed very nice to Sebastian, but frankly speaking rich smell of the fresh biscuits was much nicer - centaur's guts ached with hunger.
So he came to the gypsies and said:
"Please, give some biscuits to the tired wanderer, whose path is dark and endless."
"Why not", replied the gypsy-woman, "here you are!", she picked a stone from the road and held out it to Sebastian.
"Why are you laughing at me? How can I eat this stone?!" retorted the centaur.
"Any stick should match its ring" said the gypsy-woman "It's just for you to satisfy your hunger with a stone. Can it be that you haven't seen your eyes in a mirror?"
Sebastian considered her to be mad and gave up all his questions and hopes - he went away.

For a long time poor centaur has roamed pondering over the stone, and this thought gave him no rest. After a day or two some kind people had fed the centaur and he forgot about the stone and the gypsies. But having forgotten about them he found himself on a fairground of some town and at the same moment noticed the gypsies and their strange instruments. But now he was attracted not by people but by music. What a wonderful music! The gypsies were holding some special sticks in their hands and running them over the silver strings of their beautiful instruments and music floating over these strings was fascinating. Sebastian has never heard such sounds; they took his heart once and forever.

Centaurs were skilful trumpeters, but this music was alien for them, they thought string instruments too feeble - just for people not centaurs - unable to sing of real strength and bravery. Though the music amazed Sebastian, he didn't dare come to the brother and the sister and watched them sheltered by crowd.

When the sounds withdrew the son of Councillor understood why the gypsy-woman had offered him the stone to satisfy his hunger. And a snow-storm began to howl in his soul, earth and sky clewed in one white clew, Sebastian came to the musicians and asked them about their charming instruments. Fiddlers, they were namely the fiddlers, answered with pleasure, they seemed very glad to see him again.

So Sebastian asked: "May I play something too?"
"Why not", answered the Gypsy, "Picked up a stick and gave it to him."
"What have you given me this stick for?! Give me the fiddle!"
"Try to play the stick!"
Bemused Councillor's son had a look at the stick and suddenly he felt as if a demon snatched his heart - "How dare these miserable people make fun of me? I'm not to be trifled with!" - and he struck the man with a heavy bowl. The gypsy winced but didn't cry - he laughed: "Why! The fiddle is useless for you as you are such skilful stick-player! But my laugh isn't music, is it?"
The warrior felt a lump in his throat. Having checked his feelings he said strictly:
"Yes, the stick is my instrument and because of it I have been roaming for three years and three month - I don't want to be stick-player, I'm sick and tired of it - enough! And now when I have found my way you offer me a stick again! I want to play the fiddle!"
"And you think that to play the fiddle is easier than to play the stick! Well! Here you are. Try!" and the gypsy pulled out the fiddle to him. Sebastian took it and run the bow over the strings hoping that beautiful sounds would ring out again, but his sound turned out strident like a lash. It pierced his ears with ache, he winced.
"You see, you continue to play the stick", said the gypsy.
"But what can I do?"
"If you don't want to be the warrior, but eager to be the fiddler you must study. We can teach you."
"I'm ready!" replied Councillor's son.
In this day all his life has changed.

The gypsies got a fiddle for him and he has been playing day and night. Sebastian was talented and diligent so after a short time they began to play trio.

The life was going on. In the first year his feet fed Sebastian, in the second - his hands and in the third year his ears fed him. The musicians became rich and famous, they were welcome guests everywhere - not a celebration, not a festival did without them. The centaur enjoyed such life and forgot the word "boredom". But once he has had a dream about his parents. They were very sad and lonely; his mother waved her arm at him with tears in her eyes. In the morning Sebastian told his dream to his friends. The gypsies pondered a little and said:" We have found ourselves long ago, our path is lit up by bright sun rays, and we can't lose our way in this life. And now for you there is no need to eat stones, you has found yourself too. But we are birds without a nest, our home is everywhere - we have nothing to miss. But you have your nest and you haven't visited it for seven years. You shouldn't forget your home if you have one. Go to you parents and don't worry about us." Sebastian wanted them to go with him, but they held their own - each person has his or her own way and to change their way by force is no good, as not any force is for the welfare. So the centaur-fiddler told to his friends that they would be always welcome in his house and he would be glad to see them again. He was sure that Destiny would let them meet and play their trios again. He went home.

And in his native kingdom he has been already cursed and forgiven, deplored and nearly forgotten, only his parents hoped to see him again. And when in the early morning he knocked at the door of their house, they were all happiness, cheers, tears and smiles. His mother and his father embraced him. They have forgotten all insults and now were happy. But time changed them - Eloise's beautiful face became paler and thinner, and Councillor's temples - white like moon-rays. Sebastian noticed it feeling guilty.

Councillor made a feast in honour of his son and invited nearly half a kingdom to celebrate with them. So guests were numerous like waves in the ocean. All of them were watching Sebastian with interest and wonder - they wanted to know everything about years of his wandering, and all of them were waiting for a miracle. And when the feast was in full swing Sebastian took his fiddle. Centaurs were surprised and snorted distrustfully but kept their thoughts to themselves. Then Sebastian began to play and so beautiful, so solemn and powerful was the music that earth and sky seemed to merge into one to give birth to new life, to sing of all and to light up everyone! The tune withdrew and guests were silent and one radiant smile lit up all faces.

The next day Sebastian played for the king. The king was wise and accepted that not only trumpets were worthy and a real centaur could be not only a warrior but a fiddler. And he appointed Councillor's son the first violinist by the court. Sebastian was happy and thankful, he went home, found his mascot and placed it round his neck, ready to serve devotedly to the wise king now not as warrior but as violinist. But when he came into a room his father met him without a smile. Councillor was glad to see his son at home, and his king - merciful, but he didn't want his son to be a musician, he couldn't let him break with tradition. To use force was pointless, so the father tried to persuade. With great feeling he told about their family tradition, about benefits of military service, Sebastian listened to him without interrupting. When his father fell silent the violinist left the house, outside he found a stone and brought it into the room, and then he took a biscuit from a porcelain dish, and pulled out the stone and the biscuit to his father:
"Eat!" said the fiddler.
Surprised Councillor took the biscuit and bit off a small piece of it.
"And what about the stone? Why don't you eat this stone? It looks delicious!"
"But I'm not a mountain troll to eat stones!" replied embarrassed Councillor.
"And why do you offer stones to me, father? I had gnawed a lot of them till I understood that they were uneatable."
Finally Councillor has faced the truth; he embraced his son and blessed him:
"Go and be the fiddler if you have a calling for it."

Harmony has reigned in the kingdom ever since. Sebastian played his fiddle and all centaurs enjoyed his music in which sky and earth merged into one to give birth to the light. Contrast of black and white was not painful and only mountain trolls dreamt about stone biscuits.

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