Purple fire
The door gave a faint creak and began to open slowly, letting rays of light into the room with lilac wallpaper. When the door opened completely, the entire room was illuminated by sunlight, which shone so brightly that nothing could be seen, neither in the room nor beyond it.
In the small old house that stood on the shore of a huge black island, there was only this one little room, with lilac wallpaper, across which various little animals ran in a marvelous dance and sequence.
There were no owners in the house; it stood all alone on the ocean shore, the waves of which reached the peak of the shore and, without touching the house, receded downward.
The heavy
summer sun shone insanely brightly, illuminating every crack in the house, and in doing so, killing all the bad bugs that tried to hide in the small cracks of the little and dilapidated house with its beautifully, marvelously beautiful lilac room.To the right of the entrance to the house, into its only room, ran a winding path that disappeared between bushes with beautiful flowers and ended at a small iron bench. The bench stood in a clearing on the island's shore, between two gray stones. On each stone, using a folding steel knife, two names had been carved: "Marina" and "Vladimir." The stones stood opposite each other, separated by the little bench. On the bench, in a black cloak and black hat, sat a young man. He was looking into the distance, and in his hands, which were clad in black leather gloves, a steel knife with a button for unfolding gleamed in the bright sun. The man wore large black glasses, behind which hid bright white eyes. The young man traced the tip of the blade along the bench and looked at the horizon, where the sun shone brightly without ceasing.
In the bright lilac room, on two walls, hung photographs of a beautiful, lovely girl and a young man. The photographs hung on two opposite walls and were arranged with such precision and tenderness that the eyes of the girl Marina aligned with the eyes of the youth Vladimir. They were full of passion and love and possessed such an emotional charge that it seemed a little more and a real fire would ignite between them, which, along with the scorching sun, would destroy the little house that the ocean waves would not save.
The young man in the black hat stood up from the bench and abruptly threw the knife into the water. The knife flew in a curved trajectory, flipped over a couple of times in the air, gained aerodynamic speed, and plunged into the expanse of the ocean. With enviable speed, it flew downward point-first and pierced a little fish. The fish, shimmering with its golden scales, had swum out from its home—two little stones that had broken under the water's influence and formed a little house for fish between them. The knife pierced the little fish, and it fell to the ocean floor. Its little eyes looked up at the rippling water above it and the terribly scorching sun.
The young man on the shore walked along the path on the shore, stood at the very edge of the island, and spread his arms to the sides. With the words "I am the king of the world," he switched off his self-preservation instinct and yielded to the gentle gusts of the summer breeze, which took possession of his body, and now it belonged to it. The breeze began to blow from behind, and after a couple of seconds, the body in black was flying from the height of the steep shore.
The names on the stones began to sparkle and burn with a lilac color. The stones began to burn under the bright, scorching sun and started to take on some strange geometric outlines, which over time began to resemble human outlines—a female and a male figure, as perfect as one could imagine them in this world. The stone shavings and tin began to disappear under the sun's influence; they charred and burned away, leaving behind supple, tanned skin with small brownish moles. The figures began to come to life and look at their beautiful bodies. Where their names had been written, metal plaques on platinum chains began to appear on the people. Marina raised her little hands to the sun and stroked her golden hair, then looked at her plaque, turning it in her hands, and smiled as she read her name "Marina." She liked it very much—the sea element was very much to her liking. She had stood as a stone on the shore for thousands of years, and now she could bear this sea name and dream, dream of what might come true.
Vladimir clenched his fists and looked at his hands, over which muscles rippled like waves. He was pleased with his body and thanked the sun for such a name—"Vladimir." To rule the world was written on his plaque. Marina and Vladimir looked at themselves, and suddenly the bench between them flared up with a bright purple fire. The bright, hot, and scorching sun was replaced by a huge dark blue cloud, which, commanding its subordinate winds, stirred up a whole storm on the ocean and sent thunderstorms, lightning, and tons of gallons of fresh, cold rain from the sky to the earth. Marina and Vladimir shivered; they were naked and very cold. They began to press against the burning bench, which continued to burn with some kind of magical fire. But they did not press tightly, as the purple fire, unextinguished by the rain, was very hot, and no skin in the world could endure its touch.
Suddenly, a strong, loud voice sounded from the heavens, addressing Marina and Vladimir…
"Come together on this bench in the flame of the purple fire, embrace each other, and feel the heat of your hearts. When you lie on the bench, feel love. And if you manage to do everything as I said, you will remain alive; otherwise, the honest, righteous fire will destroy you…"
Vladimir took a step toward the flashes of the fire, whose tongues began to lick the youth's body, leaving harsh burns on it.
"Marina—I love you," said the youth. He looked into the girl's eyes and was sincerely true to his words. He was amazed by the attachment and the lightness of feelings he felt for the girl, whom he was seeing for the first time in his life. He took another step toward the bench and was now entirely in the purple fire. He was burning and enduring; he knew and believed and hoped that Marina would take his hand.
Marina extended her right palm into the tongues of hellish flame, which immediately burned her palm, but the girl was true to her feelings and still began to move her palm further. Gradually, the heat and pain began to be replaced by coolness and tenderness. Marina touched Vladimir's hand and pressed her whole tender, flexible body against him. Marina and Vladimir blazed in the purple fire and kissed, naked, on the shore of the huge island, and the ocean waves surged around it, sending thousands of gallons of water onto its shore. The water fell on the young lovers but did not extinguish the purple fire.
"If you betray your feelings and one of you betrays this pure and bright love, then that pleasant, sweet, fragrant purple fire now will turn into a fierce yellow and red hellish fire, in which your hearts will burn, but your bodies will remain alive and will be doomed to an absence of love within them,"—the voice from the heavens thundered like thousands of thunderstorms and lightning bolts. Vladimir and Marina were so engrossed in making love that they did not even hear these important words. Vladimir's hands slid over Marina's moist and supple body, and Marina kissed Vladimir on the lobe of his left ear and gently purred like a little fluffy kitten.
The photographs in the old house flew off the walls; the wind that burst in through the open door tore them from the walls and swirled them in a dance, connecting them to each other. Vladimir's photo pressed against Marina's photo and joined in a greedy, burning kiss.
The bodies of Vladimir and Marina were transported from the bench to the 17th floor of a tall building in the center of Moscow, into a five-room apartment, into a large bedroom, onto a little bed made of Italian oak with leather cushions at the headboard. The bedroom smelled of Marina's French perfume and Vladimir's American perfume. They enjoyed each other's scents and looked into each other's eyes, in whose pupils little torches of purple fire burned. They remembered the words whispered by the cloud and kissed tenderly once more. They believed in each other's love, in the sincerity of their feelings, and in fidelity, and this warmed their souls, and they were not afraid for a second that someday that evil hour would come when the little, tender purple fire would change into a treacherous and terrible red fire.
p. s.
the man in the black hat stood up on the ocean floor and walked along it, between tall underwater stones. He walked to meet new couples, new young girls and people, to turn them into stones and then warm their hearts and unite them with the help of a mighty, strong, and kind purple fire of love.