When I first realized myself and thought about who I am, I began to analyze. Why events take place in such a sequence and lead precisely to such a definite ending?

After all, there are a lot of options to develop a particular life scheme. It all depends… On what kind of transport you got to work, whether the janitor stopped you to ask what time it was. It depends on everything. Moreover, there are moments that involve not only you in this scheme, but also capture other people.

This is the turning point.

Of course, you ignore them, trying not to notice. Not to notice that for someone you have become the center of the universe, at least temporarily. You can leave, change your name… But the feeling that you did not take your chance, got scared or confused will haunt you for the rest of your life. And then your internal monologues will begin like this: «If only I could then imagine…» or «God damn it, I even saw a sign!..»

Everyone calls her Taska. Of course, it's Eva's fault. She was the first to say «Taska» for some reason. And now Tatyana responds to this strange and ancient name. Personally, I like to call her Tanya, but she always shrugs so funny when she hears her name. For nine years, she hasn't gotten used to it…

Now I'm thinking about her again. I am sure that she recalls me too. We have a telepathic connection. When we call up, the phone is always busy. It's us, calling each other at the same time. We even agreed that if the line is busy, she drops her call and waits for mine. We are a perfect couple.

The trouble is we can't be together. Why? It's simple. You can't look in the mirror all the time. You'll get bored.

Of course, at the very beginning of our acquaintance there was a turning moment.

How much time has passed since then?

Maybe a month from the very moment when I felt her staring caressing look… She unceremoniously examined everyone in the first composition class. But her tenacious gaze, returning every time, was fixed somewhere around my shoulder blades. Maybe someone has wings there, someone, according to Carlos Castaneda, has an «assembly point», but, feeling that she's interested, I just got up, grabbed a chair and sat next to her.

This is how we first met. We fooled around, went to the cinema. We argued and read the same books. Once we even got drunk and, waking up in the same bed completely naked, could not remember if we had done anything. The head just cracked. But from that day we did not think about having sex together or even dream about it.

Or at least it was me who didn't want to.

Not because both of us connected it with a stupid headache. The real reason was much deeper. Somewhere beyond understanding. After all, I really love Taska. I'm jealous. I miss her. I want to spend my time with her. This crap is totally inexplicable.

Then, for some reason, right after that incident, I told her about Kira…

The image of Kira became somehow voluminous. I swear I could even imagine her laughing eyes, green, cunning and so inviting…

It's like circles on the water. The stone has long been at the bottom, while circles still creep along the river, further and further from the center. Therefore, it is difficult to return to the beginning. I do not want to confess in front of Taska again. I don't remember the whole truth myself. The more I remember Kira, the more difficult it is to recall her face. She's just some kind of a bright spot, a smile, a voice. The only constant sensation is a warm, tickling wave in which my heart flutters when I think of her.

Of course, I told Taska different things about mirror theory. And not even to convince her. I myself wanted, voicing a sudden stunning thought, to affirm it in my head. For some reason, our planet is divided into two hemispheres, and if it's early morning in Moscow, somewhere in Florida people still fill up bars and restaurants, having a pleasant warm evening with friends.

And if there are more than seven billion people living on Earth, what is the likelihood that God will have a free soul to fill someone's newly born body? And if this is so, then it is simple to give it, that is, a free soul, to two individuals living on different continents at once. To make it easier for it to return, people should be bound by a special thread… The thread of astral twins. I think those people should look similar. In any case, some habits, preferences and the character of such people will not be very different. Their soul will be forced to put up with life-long throwing, and having no preference for one of them, constantly return and fly away again…

This is probably nonsense. Most likely, this is real nonsense. But how can one explain similar suicides or scientific discoveries made by complete strangers at the same time? There should be a thread that connects different people, but forces you to behave and live according to the scenario intended for them only.

You can, of course, call this the theory of the mirror. Which is essentially the same thing.

Chapter 2
Russian Roulette

Some people find answers to all their questions while reading books, someone on the Web, some particularly advanced ones are dictated by intuition or get tips in the information field. I have more than just questions, and most likely I won't be able to get any answers…

It has long been dark. Tomorrow was a day off and I did not want to sleep. I turned on the telly. There was Top-Twenty on RU TV^[8]. Having opened a bottle of beer, I looked for something to eat.

Beer made me feel bad. I turned off the TV, deciding to at least pass the time in non-binding communication…

Heck!

Everything happened by itself…

Having heard about this chat roulette or Chatroulette^[9], I went online several times, if you say so…

This time I turned on the computer as usual. At first, some pimpled teenager made my brain explode telling about entering MEPhI, then a horny girl gave me signs until I pressed F9.

Then…

He looked at me, eyes wide, and stuttered. From surprise, I think. At first, I also thought that I was looking at my reflection in the monitor glass. Then he pushed the curtains shut so that the light from the lantern did not hit the window, and went to the screen. His face became brighter. Unlike me, he was wearing a whitewashed T-shirt without any logos, while I was wearing a black T-shirt with a lemon-yellow John Lennon face.

He stuttered in English for half a minute. It is never possible to guess what will happen next with Skype. Therefore, the guy tried to hear something from me, before the connection is interrupted, not even through my fault.

What the hell are the astral twins. I looked at him and saw myself…

I think he saw the same. But he constantly kept talking about some dreams. I understood a little. From the pronunciation of this guy it was difficult to determine his country. Apparently, that was some kind of northern state… This whole situation…

A damn joke!

And then an idea came to my mind. I asked:

«When you were born?»

«August 9th, 1985,» he answered.

«August 9? Right? And where?» Three of my short questions followed at once, but I did not receive a single intelligible answer. Well, at least I could understand and answer something.

«My mother reluctantly talks about it,» my twin said.

«And now, can you tell where you are?»

«Minneapolis, USA.»

«I'm in Tomsk. Siberia! Well, you know: matreshka, lapti and bears!» I tried to joke.

I was not good at joking. A sticky stream of cold sweat ran down my back… Finally, I asked for his name.

«Donald Frost, or just Doni,» he answered. «And you?»

«Dormidont,» I answered for some reason…

He said that he was going to Europe for business or personal reasons and that he wanted to come to St. Petersburg if he was approved by a Russian visa. When I was ready to break the connection, he suddenly, noticing my watercolor portrait hanging on the wall, asked who its author was.

I could literally feel a treacherous cold stream of sweat running down his spine…

«Her name is Tatiana,» I replied, and showed the recent Taska's photo, taken against the backdrop of a gobbled Wolf, «The Monument to Happiness.»

His face changed even more than at the beginning of the conversation.

«I know her! Rather, I saw her. In a dream. Really. I just did not know where to look for her. Whether it is real or just an obsession,» he sighed.

He exhaled and looked at me as if his whole life depended on me now to say the least! I saw an unhealthy glow in his eyes. I know it happens in the eyes of people whose despair borders on madness… Or love. In a word, it was a kind of painful and desperate sparkle. He begged me to give at least her address. I reasoned that Taska would risk absolutely nothing if he wrote her a few lines… And send her a letter. In an envelope. Maybe she wouldn't read it… Which would be in her style. She'd throw it somewhere without even opening the envelope, or immediately take it in the trash. Carefully, in block letters, he copied Tatiana's address. «The idea is hopeless!» I thought. We wanted to exchange phones just in case… But at this very moment the lights went out in the entire house. «Damn!» I swore, and went to look for a flashlight.

In the morning, this whole story seemed a terrible delirium. The beer still made me feel bad. Maybe I even took myself off. The beer was horrible. The guy from the monitor obviously was my nightmare, and the electricity seemed to be gone nowhere. The refrigerator vibrated pleasantly, the computer was also on! Definitely I took myself off… Gotta call Tasks later. You don't get drunk from one bottle of beer every day!

Chapter 3
What He Managed to Tell Her…

August pampered with warm weather.

But things at the university went bad… Again, all allowances were cut, leaving a bare salary. Sometimes I start thinking that my apartment is too luxurious for me. Taska feels all right with six meters…

The phone is ringing. It's her. I thought of her a moment ago! Something happened, I can feel it!

She caught me thinking about the vicissitudes of Fate. After all, after that mysterious video session, every evening I tried to go back to Chatroulette. But apart from uninteresting subjects, the Universe sent me nothing. For about two months this idea somehow warmed me up, but then I stopped thinking about it, being inclined to think that my astral twin is just an alcohol nightmare.

«So stupid!» Taska started her monologue, anxious. I had to ask questions from time to time in order not to seem a senseless moron.

«His shoes?»

«Well yes! Shoes always betray the owner.»

Tanya looked at her black pumps with a slight condemnation and continued:

«Explain how a long zipped boot could be five to seven meters away from the body?»

«I never thought of such things…» I answered without listening.

«So what did he say?» I asked again, still thinking of my strange Skype conversation, and sat next to Taska.

«What did he say? He said that now the thread was broken!» She repeated the words of the former resident of our university dormitory.

I pondered her words for some time. Then I stood up, silently opened the cupboard and took out a bottle of cognac. On my way to the kitchen, I thought of asking her if she got any emails from strangers, but then I changed my mind. I brought bellied wine glasses, poured cognac and drank it. It felt better.

Automatically, without feeling the taste, I chewed huge olives stuffed with anchovies.

Taska also made few sips, then took a wooden toothpick, pierced an olive and put it into her mouth.

«I don't understand how you can eat it!» She was amazed when she noticed that my olive jar was almost empty.

We almost finished with a bottle of inexpensive cognac that I kept from some party. My thoughts started going in the right direction, so I decided to introduce her to my mirror theory and tell her about astral twins.

«Dorian, are you serious?»

She looked at the empty bottle, then at the old watch, and realized that if she doesn't go to bed, her to-dos will remain unhandled…

She smiled, putting her favorite grey elephant under her head, took the blanket and immediately fell asleep.

Chapter 4
The Aquarium

I had a very bad sleep that night. I woke up an infinite number of times, trying to fall asleep again. At four o'clock in the morning I went out onto the balcony and looked at the still dark sky with a billion stars. My God, how boundless the Universe is… What worthless insects, what kind of… microbes we must seem to the Creator with our eternal claims and discontent against the background of this cosmic Beauty! Reluctantly, already yawning, I returned to the warm bed and immediately fell asleep until the morning.

When I woke up, Tanya was gone. She ran away, leaving me a short note:

«Doremi! Thank you for taking care of'me!!!)))

I'll call you when I arrive!

I remember about the Aquarium…

Kiss on the forehead! Me!»

So typical for her. Although I was smiling when I read it.

Aquarium… Exactly! Well, I told her about it upon my return from a business trip last year. I also took the word that she would definitely be there.

Wow, she remembers! But that's not the point… I'll be damned!

AQUARIUM. This is exactly what I dreamed in the morning. Such a strange and viscous dream…

A stone gallery, a fairly wide corridor… Everything that I have already seen. And yes, I see the walls of the medieval St. John fortress.

They have aquariums installed in the walls.

Taska could not resist and threw a metal ten cent into the water. It fell next to the puzzled turtle, which slowly rubbed its eye with its front paw…

It cheered Taska. She looked around, but saw no one. Suddenly everyone disappeared, leaving her all alone among aquariums and dull lights.

She began to look for a way out, but could not find it… Then a huge heavy door opened, and the heady sea air filled the entire gallery…

At the entrance to the Aquarium, there was me waiting for someone, constantly looking at my watch.

Indeed?!.

No, of course not. That was Doni. In a whitish T-shirt, without a single logo or at least some letter…

Recently, there have been too many things that could not fit to any reasonable explanation. But this dream of mine, which emerged so clearly and convexly, from that moment got stuck in my head.

Tanya.

I will wait for the news.

Chapter 5
Clew

Once I wondered, what were our days like that made up life? Every morning. Afternoon or evening. Night.

We get up. Go to work. In the evening we drive to the store. Before going to bed we read or watch TV. Then we go to bed. Everything goes according to a well-established scheme, except with small corrections for illness, vacation, love and children, if God sends! And then we get old…

So what are our days like? Of course, you can imagine any model. I suddenly remembered how my mother unwinded a small old sweater that became small… Row after row. Until the end. Until you get a big ball from which you can knit fashion gloves. Or make a new jacket or another sweater, adding bright threads…