Натюрморт с селедкой и без: книга рассказов

"Moi͡a zadacha ne obʺi͡asni͡atʹ deĭstvitelʹnostʹ, a opisyvatʹ ee, kak ona estʹ", - uveri͡aet avtor. Poverishʹ, nachneshʹ chitatʹ - i sam ne zametishʹ, kak iz realʹnogo mira tebi͡a pereneset v vymysel, v zazerkalʹe. "I ėto moĭ mir, on nastoi͡ashchiĭ, i͡a v nem zhivu", - podtverzhdaet odin iz geroev. Mir ėtot mozhet okazatʹsi͡a planetoĭ, kotorui͡u pridumala devochka, ili vysokhshim kolodt͡sem, gde spokoĭno techet schastlivai͡a zhiznʹ i li͡udi ne znai͡ut, chto takoe golod. Razmyvaetsi͡a, ischezaet granʹ mezhdu mechtoĭ i deĭstvitelʹnostʹi͡u, vydumkoĭ i strashnoĭ pravdoĭ.

"My task is not to explain reality, but to describe it as it is," the author assures. Believe it, you will start reading — and you will not notice how you will be transported from the real world to fiction, through the looking glass. "And this is my world, it's real, I live in it," confirms one of the heroes. This world may turn out to be a planet that a girl invented, or a dried-up well where a happy life flows calmly and people do not know what hunger is. The line between dream and reality, fiction and the terrible truth is blurring, disappearing.