(excerpts from the story of Victor Barkov, "Winter will come ...")

It stands in a spacious mirror room, against the wall itself. And in the middle of the hall stands a huge snow-white cake, on the flat top of which lies a naked stranger. She is young, beautiful and devilishly seductive. All her relaxed posture - - the right hand props up the raised head, the left one rests on the sharp bend of the thigh - - imbued with the expectation of the meeting. A tan golden body is decorated with pale pink cream flowers. They shamefully cover the most seductive places. A woman smiles and beckons to her well-groomed pen ...

And he begins to fiercely climb up the sheer wall of the cake. But the fresh biscuit flakes off and crumbles, the legs slip oily, the sugary-sweet mass closes the eyes, nose and stuffs it in the mouth. Snow pollen settles lazily from above, with languid sluggishness - this is a woman pouring icing sugar and laughing playfully. He is still desperately trying to climb up, choking and spitting, tearing with a snarl of sticky mush, but he is digging deeper and deeper. It is difficult for him to breathe, and the more air he lacks, the more furiously he tries to get out of there. Now he has completely plunged into the darkness, but still he continues to fidget furiously there, breaking through the saving tunnel in the soft edibleness of the quagmire ...

Suddenly a bright light hits your eyes. He sees a huge hall of mirrors and himself, caught up on the other side of the cake. Each mirror reflects the mysterious depths of the other mirrors that go to ghostly infinity. A lot of soiled confused people look at him from everywhere, but he realizes that here he is alone, and it is impossible to get out of this sparkling circulation ...

- - Aaaaaa !!!

His vocal cords are strained to the limit. His own cry is not audible to him, but the reflections start shaking very small. The mirrors vibrate more and more, more and more intensely, and suddenly burst without sound from the resonance. They explode suddenly, all at once, crumbling on a myriad of sparkling crystals. And in every crystal the cake, the nude stranger, and the universal loneliness of the weary figure are still reflected ...

... He is running somewhere in a dewy morning meadow, full of yellowing dandelions. "And his run is smooth, like a joyful bird flight." Where he hurries, where? Well, of course to her. She, too, weightlessly flies to meet him. Clothes to her to anything - - only a wreath of dandelions flaunts diadem on his head. Flowers, sun, hair, her body — everything radiates a blinding golden light. From this intolerable light tears eyes. And through the tears, the outlines of the world floating towards each other are strangely distorted and crushed ...

He falls back in silky, like her hair, and green as the maelstrom of her eyes, grass. Above it reigns a deep, sucking blue. And against the background of this inevitable hypnotizing blue there appears a golden halo. That's her. He sees below her tanned slender legs, which go to unknown heights, into a misty clutching perspective. He notices there a black triangle, pointing with an inverted apex, like a guiding arrow, at that particular point in which the highest bodily enjoyment lurks. He distinguishes her glossy, the color of coffee with milk, belly. A charming navel dimple - - like an extinct crater of a sensual volcano. He sees her breasts darkened in the sun. Their elastic shell is bursting with hot blood pressure and some other unknown force inside ...

On its left roundness, bending from its own gravity, a large delightful butterfly with emerald-transparent wings descends. The butterfly touches a pink nipple with a shaggy proboscis, does not find nectar there and flies away. And the breasts like two amber drops of wax melted with burning rays descend lower and lower. He gets into the thick tent of her long hair, through which faint light is barely filtered. And soon he is surrounded by total darkness.Her wet lips are looking for his invisible mouth. But he is not breathing, and he begins to look for a way out of this pleasant captivity ...