Elena S. (IEI) - Premonitions

I really liked my friend—the neighbor on the stairwell. We’d do things together, fool around. We could just jump. We cooked toffee together, opened the windows, leaned out into the courtyard—the second floor. That was happiness, pure, uninterrupted happiness.

Sometimes I’d say, “Natash, listen, you’d better go home. There’s some kind of feeling—Mom’s about to come.” And Natasha would be gone in a flash. Half an hour—my speed is crazy; I do everything fast. I’d run through the apartment, tidy everything up—bang—Mom comes home.

Now Natasha is already fifty. She says to me, “Do you remember how you were?! I still remember and tell everyone how you could feel that Mom was coming.” I think Mom would only just think of going home, and I’d immediately say, “Natashka, go!” Then Mom would leave, I’d go over to my friend and say, “Let’s keep going!”