A TRAP for a THOUGHT-FORM
a novel in the series
"PLAYING ANOTHER REALITY"
Chapter 11. RETURN of the UNKNOWN
“Do you write stories?” I asked the Guardian to break the oppressive silence.
“And stories…” putting his cup of coffee on the table, he answered evasively and sat down across from me. “Down there, in the Dungeon, I showed you the Theater…”
“So do you write plays and scripts?”
The Guardian nodded, looking straight into my soul, trying to find something.
“What about?” I asked.
He thought for a moment and then smiled slyly.
“About you, my Queen,” the Guardian said and laughed artificially.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I muttered. “Do you have more copies of the book you submitted to the Union of Writers for the competition?”
“The one with your gloves? And why, suddenly?! Did the Queen decide to descend to… mere mortals?”
“Stop that! I’m really interested in reading you,” I said in all sincerity.
“That was the last copy,” the Guardian spread his hands, showing sadness on his face.
“What about your other stories? Are they printed?”
“Aren’t you a mage? Why do you need printed books?” he grinned.
The guests continued to flock to the hall, but they seemed to notice neither me nor the Guardian. The Cat took his place right on the stage.
“We have ‘the Return of the Unknown’ on the menu tonight. Smells like Alexander Blok, doesn’t it?” whispered the Guardian, coming close to me. “Is another Swamp Master going to visit us?”
“No, Satyr! A kind one…”
“Oh, the myths of Ancient Greece! What would we do without them? Yes, Alice? You love Greece, don’t you?” there was something sinister in the Guardian’s whisper. “Not Germany, am I right? The genetic memory is a harsh thing.”
I went cold. Did he know about Pasha?!
***
The hero of the party, Satyr, appeared in the hall. The guests applauded. I went onto the stage, asked some questions and even quoted something wise, while thinking about what was going on.
“Why does the Guardian dislike me so much? Or is he jealous to the point of insanity?”
Something was slipping away, something very important…
“Anyway, I shouldn’t care about the Guardian, having only the rest of the 40 nights left.”
However, the title of the Satyr’s book “The Return of the Unknown” made me remember the Witch. Having been introduced by me at the 1st party, she returned in the Mansion to photograph me once more for some reason. Then she came back again, telling me not to open the Door to the Mansion…
“Maybe, the Witch isn’t quite in her mind. Anyway, we all are out of our minds here,” I exhaled.
“And in whose mind are we all here?” I heard a distinct question and noticed Roman appeared at my table.
“HELLO!!!” I shouted to him from the stage mentally. “I’m so happy that YOU EXIST!!!”
Roman smiled.
“I wish you were forever!” I smiled him back.
“Don’t use the Past tense, and I will always be…”
“Will you always come to me here?”
“The 29 nights left, you mean?”
“Wow! We have 29 nights more!!! If it could be possible to re-live them in a circle, these 40 nights…” (“with you,” I hid the ending of the thought deep in my heart.)
“Like a record that can be listened to endlessly?”
Suddenly the Cat materialized right in front of me. He looked into my eyes (silently, but just like a human!) and then went to the Guardian behind the slightly opened curtain.
The Satyr finished with the poetry. The women screamed and rushed for autographs. I sat down at the table nearby Roman. The Guardian was watching us from behind the curtains.
“How are you getting on, Alice? I hope you made a plan for 6 months?” Roman asked out loud.
“You seem to become my Teacher soon,” I smiled and added mentally, “When there are 29 evenings left, there is no time for six-months’ plan.”
“Today, finally, will there be fears on the dessert menu?” Roman asked.
“You guessed it wrong!” I shook my head negatively.
“Then I want coffee!” demanded Roman half-jokingly, leaning back in the chair imposingly.
I smiled and obediently went for coffee.
Task No. 11. PLACES OF POWER
…The Magician has his own Places of Power, those points in space where he once felt very good or absolutely happy. The brightest, warmest, kindest memories are associated with such Places. Getting there, even mentally, the Magician is filled with energy that allows him to perform miracles…
Scroll through life in search of your Places of Power, relive those moments anew… and make it a habit to travel to one of them at least mentally every time you feel you miss the Sun…
The Guardian rang the bell.
“Roman… I wish…” I began mentally.
“The verb ‘wish’ requires the Past tense, Alice,” he interrupted me.
“Okay. I’m sorry. You’re right. Then… you’ll become the Sun.”
I smiled and went onto the stage.
“By the way, when did I see the Sun last time?”
***
“Hi… Sun is here! + snow… white-white! Good so… Send photo 2 me? Where u + snow.”
“Okay.”
“I want 2 tell u. Know, much much in my head…”
“I know. Everything will be fine. Have a good night and sweet dreams!”
“Goodnight, Alice. U Sun. I love u always. Take care u 2 be safe 4 me.”
“I have to go to the church to order the 40-days prayer for Pasha, and, since the church is next to the forest, to take pictures of a real winter for him.”
Suddenly, a strange thought made me go cold: I didn’t remember what the church I went to on weekends looked like…
The Matrix was buggy.
I lit the candles and asked, “God, help Pasha, please! Let everything be fine with him!”