Author Felix Maximov, graphics by Alexandra Neronova Felix Maximov is an author with unsurpassed talent, one of those who are called wizards of the word. At first glance, the stories collected here are just sketches, impressions of individual episodes of life, but they are remembered as prophetic dreams and revelations. This book is difficult to define. Memories? Not quite. Magical realism? Partly. There is an irresistible fascinating miracle in these texts: it can be bright, sad, funny, creepy... No one else writes the way Felix Maximov writes.From the author: I was born in 1976 in Moscow, on Presnya, and I've lived my life here. I write letters....My sketches about childhood are not true. An echo, a flowing watercolor, a jug of fragments found in the excavation, a human face recreated from bone remains. Not work, but an audition, not music, but tuning up the orchestra before a concert: I've always loved that sound, the promise, the anticipation. An attempt at childhood, since an attempt at escape has failed. I changed the names of everyone except my dead relatives. Memories from different years are collected in patches and fragments in the year when the war broke out. I am no longer there, and neither is the one who is writing this now.