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Unfortunately, Glenda did not buy herself a hat or cap, although there was something to match her polo style. Relying on her newly curled curls, she walked boldly along the sunny side of the street.

Half an hour ago, tormented by unbearable doubts, she nevertheless called that number from the hands of a terrible and wonderful stranger. Much to her disappointment, he immediately answered the phone, and to make matters worse, he was right there. Mr. Holstein had just received the customers, and was ready to wait a little for her too. “You are incredibly lucky, Miss Miller, that the house has not yet been sold. This is a wonderful place in the very center of Copenhagen, next to the artificial lake St. Jorgen Se, shops, restaurants, cinema, clubs, and it’s like you’re taking it for nothing.”

The two-story wooden apartment building with its peeling blue paint looked clean and well-kept, just a little worn from time to time. Glenda liked the facade, although old, but cozy, it reminded her so much of home that thoughts of buying it were obsessively spinning in her head.

Mr. Holstein turned out to be an old Jew. Short in stature with a belly as round as a ball, he resembled her grandfather Beer, as his father nicknamed him for his eternal abuse of high-proof drinks, especially beer.

The unpleasant, sly smile hid some kind of trick, but she couldn’t figure out what.

A clean entrance hall, a spacious kitchen and living room, the second floor of two bedrooms simply sparkled from the recent cleaning. The smell was of fresh baked goods from a nearby pizzeria, so it was impossible to comprehend why such magnificent housing could cost so little, and even for a Jew.

– What’s wrong here, admit it right away. – the girl demanded, narrowing her hawk eye.

More recently, she was questioning administration officials in London with the same intensity, looking for clues in suspicious reshuffles in posts and the upcoming election of the British Prime Minister.

– Darling, take it and that’s it. – After a pause, the owner of the house began. He seemed startled by the question, but for a moment, no more. This happens if an actor is poorly trained, and he is thrown off by a dissatisfied exclamation from the director. Then the smile appeared again on the shiny face.

– This will not work. Confess, or I'll go home.

Unable to withstand her pressure, the old Jew nevertheless cried out.

– There are ghosts roaming here!

The thin athletic body shook in feverish laughter. This old guy has completely lost his mind. “God, how lucky I am. I buy a house three times cheaper than the market price, which, due to random circumstances, was inherited from a crazy Jew. Well, we have to take it."

Mr. Holstein laughed timidly along with Glenda, but his hands began to tremble.

– I'm buying.

Surprised by such a sudden change in mood and the pleasant outcome of the meeting, the owner squealed with pleasure.

The new owner of the apartment, when signing the contract, could not help but notice some oddities, but she reassured herself that she had simply overheated her head in the sun.

It seemed to her for a moment that her right big toe was missing, that instead of it there was a bloody stump with dried blood. She closed her eyes and looked again at the well-groomed foot in the sandal, the burgundy polish looked great on her big toe.

After shaking hands after a successful transaction, the man with a check for an enviable amount and the girl with the keys to her own home in the city center went off on opposite sides of the street. Walking proudly along Vesterbrogade, Glenda thought about how quickly she was changing her life to a new one. A new home, although previously she had only rented accommodation in London. A new image, because she had never curled her hair before. All that's left is to find a guy and a job, and it's done.

“Do I want a new relationship so soon after cheating? No I do not want to. I need a new job. For what? To feed yourself? I have a ton of money, I could spend another whole year on a spree and still have some left over, considering my needs. Maybe it’s worth resting a little and surrendering to life as it is, completely, all-consumingly?”

Reasoning in this way, Glenda Miller plunged into a three-day bender. Clubs, parties, new acquaintances and love. That evening, while celebrating the purchase of her first property in Dunkel, she immediately hooked up with the young and handsome Jornas. Rocking out to electro house and tequila, he seemed incredibly attractive to her, and she went with him to her room.

The next morning, he proposed a relationship with her, and without resisting for a long time, the girl, who had recently realized that she had begun a new round of life, agreed.

They walked around the city for two more days, hanging over their martinis in broad daylight. At night we rode in a limousine with his friends and girlfriends, honked the horn and returned to the hotel in the morning.

But on the morning of the third day, intoxication still covered the young bodies, and pale from poisoning, they sat near the toilets, washing their stomachs.

– Do you believe in ghosts? – suffering from a headache, but with relief after vomiting, Glenda started a sober conversation with Jornas for the first time.

– I prefer to think so, otherwise my brother has actually gone crazy. – The young brown-haired man smiled sadly.

– What, your brother believes in them?

– He doesn’t just believe, he claims that he sees them regularly. That's why my parents gave him to a welfare home when they were still alive.

– House of Welfare? What is this?

– This is such a mental hospital at the church. The nurses and doctors are Lutherans, and the patients are churchgoers. – Seeing his girlfriend’s bewilderment, Jornas corrected himself. – Well, that is, there are many parishioners in the church itself and they are all, of course, healthy, it’s just that only the mentally ill and crippled are sent to the hospital.

– And how do they treat them?

– Peace and quiet, no injections, straitjackets, electric shocks or other torture.

It’s amazing, I didn’t believe it until I saw it. My brother hangs out there, but still talks about ghosts. Nobody believes him except me.

– So you still think that they exist? – Glenda did not let up. For the first time she felt uneasy. Goosebumps ran over my naked body. What if the old Jew is right, and that's why he tried so hard to get rid of this house as quickly as possible?

– Yes, only in the universes of those who see them. And some in the universe have vampires, some have fairies and unicorns. We are all a little dreamers, but we should not be blamed for this, or even less considered sick.

– So you don’t think your brother is sick, you just think that these are his fantasies?

– Something like that?

– Wait, I don’t understand anything, do you believe or not in the other world? – Glenda was already quite angry: she did not like ambiguity and philosophical reasoning, especially on topics as far from reality as this.

– Of course not. Only that there are no crazy people, that people believe what they want! – Jornas turned pink from Glenda’s screams, and he himself became a little angry. – Why are you so wound up?

– Nothing. Just don't say anything stupid anymore, okay? – She jumped up and ran to the bed. There was no more nausea, my head stopped hurting. Irritation mobilized her half-dead body and she again wanted to do something. – Let’s go, I’ll show you my house!

– Would you like to show me your secluded place? – the guy who walked away so easily asked slyly, leaving the bathroom. He is like a dog, after being poked with his nose in the tray, he again saw the disposition of the mistress and happily runs for new strokes.

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