Memorycemetery

So I am writing a novel. As a friend of mine, Nadya, put it, a sober-punk fiction. One of the main characters in this story named after my friend, Ivan Nikitin. It’s easier to write for me, when I think about someone real. It’s already enough of nonsense there, as everything in this story is a messed up and mixed up patchwork of memories, dotted by black holes of imagination, warping what is left. So I have to keep some references to sanity, adding some actual details. One of the chapters starts from a dream, in which Nikitin is talking to a cat, called Kapa, which, according to the story, he kept in the past (in reality Kapa was a cat I had in Bangkok before he ran away).

When I was done with the first draft, I had sent it to Ivan to read.  It turned out that he has a dog now, dachshund or what is the name of the breed - I am not into dogs really; anyway, a dog called Kapa started to live with him about the time I lost my cat and added this episode in the story.

None of us, as we live 10000 or so km and few years apart didn’t know about our pets, both called Kapa in retrospect. Well, our Kapa was called after Japanese Kapa - sort of elf or mythical creature, who likes to make jokes on people. Nikitin’s Kapa got the name short from Kapsula - or capsule in Russian, because his dog reminds him one.

Weird, isn’t it? Surely, Kapa lived up his name, making all kinds of jokes - such as biting my nose when I’m asleep or hiding fish under the blanket. His last one is still puzzling me.

Boris Kislitsin

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