Upside Down: The Story of One Vertigo

The sun, breaking through the foliage of the city's trees, generously scattered on the sidewalk as we, my two restless daughters and I, set off to meet an unusual adventure. The upside-down house, as if it had emerged from a fairy tale, beckoned with its ridiculous facade. Having been in our city for ten years, it has already become a local landmark, a kind of symbol of light madness and carefree fun. Admittedly, I was skeptical about this idea, but the eyes of my girls, full of anticipation, made me reconsider my opinion.

Crossing the threshold, it was as if we stepped into a parallel reality. Everything, absolutely everything, was floating overhead: chandeliers, sofas, tables with plates set. For the first few minutes, I tried to maintain an appearance of calm, balancing and trying not to lose my bearings in space. But soon the dizziness crept up unnoticed, like a cunning cat, and everything began to blur.

But my girls, seven-year-old Alyonka and five-year-old Sofiyka, were absolutely delighted. They ran, screamed with delight, tried to reach the bed hanging over their heads, looked into the pots attached to the ceiling of the kitchen. For them, it was not just entertainment, but real magic, an opportunity to switch places with the laws of gravity. Their infectious laughter echoed through the rooms, and despite my nausea and disorientation, I couldn't help but smile at their joyful faces.

But my patience, alas, was not unlimited. After the "living room" and "nursery" I felt that my strength was leaving me. It seemed that the brain refused to perceive the inverted reality, sending waves of protest into the body. With each step, it became more difficult to keep my balance. I kept grabbing the walls to keep from falling, and I felt like an old, tired snail trying to make it up a steep climb.

And yet, despite all the difficulties, I decided to get to the third floor. It was a kind of challenge to myself – to prove that I am still capable of exploits for the sake of my children. Overcoming weakness and dizziness, I slowly but surely crawled upward, supported by children's laughter and shouts: "Mom, you are the strongest!".

When we finally reached the top, I collapsed onto the sofa hanging in the air, feeling absolutely exhausted. The view from the "third floor" was certainly interesting, but it no longer brought me any joy. I just wanted to get out of this crazy house and return to the familiar, normal world, where the ceiling is on top and the ground is under my feet.

I never returned to that upside-down house again. The girls sometimes remembered him with a smile, but for me he remained a symbol of vertigo, mild madness and, perhaps, maternal sacrifice for the sake of children's happiness.

And so, a few years later, the upside-down house disappeared from our city as suddenly as it appeared. It was as if he had fulfilled his mission – he gave us some crazy fun and some dizzying memories. And although I no longer miss his upside-down rooms, I will always remember the day when my daughters and I went into this unusual world where everything was upside down. And maybe it turned a little inside of me, too.