Botyakov Anatoly - The Superfluous Man

Copyright Botyakov Anatoly (2018)

The right of Botyakov Anatoly to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781788239356 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781788239363 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781788239370 (E-Book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2018)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LQ

Victor did not remember the way and the time when that summer had begun. He simply woke up one morning because of the sun burning right through blackout jalousie and shining its brightest directly upon his eyes. Everything had been much more real at that time, a combination of words real life had not seemed something distantly familiar, his thoughts had not shuffled, everything had been clear and obvious, and everything had been different at that time. His current life looked rather like a dream than a real one. However, he was not asleep and he knew it for sure, but what was more important, he could prove it with just a couple of wordsHas anyone ever asked himself about his status during a sleep? And the answer was no! Dreams, in contrast with reality, never left additional options

He reluctantly opened his eyes but immediately covered them back with one of his palms and turned away from the window, having found himself in the exact same position that he had while falling asleep last night on this very sofa. Then he waited like this just a couple of minutes and finally sat up, looking at his rented flat a place that was filling his soul with nothing but the absolute emptiness. The only thing that he could afford by living here was wasting of time, and he was truly prosperous with this occupation.

This flat was the first and the only one visited by him during his search of a place to live when he came to this strange town. A very modest advertisement presented a two-room flat on the third floor of an old five-storied house. There was no information about money needed to cover the proposal, but it contained one very peculiar, and at first sight even suspicious sentence: Inhabitation on my terms only. His phone call was responded by a quiet voice belonging to a very humble and polite owner of the flat. Within an hour, Victor already found himself in front of an entrance, where that very woman hospitably met him. She was very small, seemingly forty years of age. First, she invited her potential leaseholder to the kitchen, however, she did so not to start showing the flat but simply to treat him to a cup of tea.

Later the woman told him that her husband had passed away a little bit more than six months ago, and since they had no children as well as any other close relatives who could take care of the flat for a couple of months, she decided to rent it out. Her own intention was to visit her sister who lived somewhere abroad; unfortunately, Victor was not able to define a country because a name of a town told him nothing at all.

He was deeply astonished and touched by the attitude that he met that day, by the trust that he was granted being just a stranger. Of course, all these feelings provoked his desire to stay here; after all, he was alone in a strange town and no matter what his thoughts were, his soul was looking for someone alike, for someone who could understand him and whom he would also understand. His decision to rent the flat had found its place in his head long before he said it directly, but he was unlikely to know about this fact.

When the question about money emerged, the woman suddenly proposed Victor to stay without paying a coin for itbut providing that he kept order until her arrival. There was no doubt that she was literally overwhelmed with warm feelings towards this place and could not afford seeking profits. Victor accepted her excellent conditions but stipulated for letting him make at least one average payment for the first month. When they reached an accord, he promised to keep order and maintain everything as it was. However, there was not much to change anyway, for all personal objects, such as old pictures of the family, had been providently put away, and only old empty frames could betray this secret.

Thus, a new chapter in Victors life began and for that moment, it seemed to him the last. A month passed after that and he still ran out of time trying to fill this blank sheet with anything slightly interesting

There was something mesmerizing about his current position. He was sitting still on the sofa without mowing a single muscle. Virtually every part of his body, from a distant look to his curled toes, was saying he was completely broken and lost. It had been almost a minute since he began to stare at a corner of the room, where right on the floor a cell phone was. Victor was waging a battle against his own mind, trying to suppress a desire of getting up and lifting the object. In the upshot, he simply gave in, rose to his feet, took several leisurely paces and got the cell phone as if not being the one who had thrown it in this very corner yesterday night. Few seconds later, the cell phone got back to life with a splash screen and began actively uttering as it counted missed calls and new messages.

Co-authors of dozens of calls were just two numbers, which divided their duties almost perfectly equally. Messages were playing on the same rules and covered two subjects: Victor, call me back as soon as you can, do not let me down! and Son, why do not you answer? Victoria and I, we both are worried. Let us know how you are doing, when it is possible and comfortable for you.

Victor briefly read the text of the last message and chose the delete all function without thinking twice. Then he confirmed his choice and put the cell phone on a glass table standing next to him. After that, he warily approached the window and slightly drew jalousie apart, showing clearly visible hesitation. Despite a morning hour, the short hand was only just getting to the six, the town was already breathing with its full chest, greedily absorbing the remains of the oxygen and giving back swirling clouds of poisonous smoke.