A TRAP for a THOUGHT-FORM
a novel in the series
"PLAYING ANOTHER REALITY"
Chapter 17. SNOW LETTERS
Everything was repeated: having hung my furs, the Guardian took me by hand and led me to the cafe.
“Yes, ‘The Snow Letters’ are appropriate today,” he muttered as he brewed coffee. “Who is the author?”
“Aladdin with a magic lamp,” I smiled.
“Are Aladdin and snow compatible?”
“Imagine… He had no childhood either, like me…”
The Guardian sighed heavily and frowned, but said nothing, as if he hadn’t heard my words.
“He is from an orphanage,” I continued. “He dreamed of becoming a famous writer, and he realized his dream. As a kid, being fond of Indian movies, he wrote a letter to the coolest actor in Bombay. Everyone laughed at the boy — keep your pocket wide open! However, the actor replied. And the boy believed that miracles could happen. He started writing fairy tales for adults and children. At his 75+ he is the winner of many competitions, and he deserved that.”
“I believe neither in miracles nor fairy tales,” the Guardian barked rudely and almost threw his cup of coffee on the table. “Where are they, miracles, Alice?? Where are the fairy tales? Where is Love??? YOUR LOVE, where is it???”
I saw the madness in his eyes again. I wanted to help the Guardian somehow, to reassure him that life wasn’t over and everything was still ahead, but even the most powerful magician would never be able to help someone against his will…
***
“How was your meeting with the Witch in the Blizzard?” Roman asked, finishing his coffee.
I recounted what had happened.
“Tonight,” I added, “just don’t tell me I’m crazy, I decided to find that church and thoroughly lie in the snow!”
“If I were you, I’d ask the King of Swords to make you company…”
I looked at Roman with such sadness that he didn’t even need my thoughts.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean…” he hugged me and, as usual, kissed my third eye.
So I turned on the stopped stream of Consciousness.
“It seems I forgot to tell you about the Wanderer!”
Roman patiently listened to me about both the Wanderer and Pasha, and even stroked my back, almost like a mother… But he had no time — or didn’t want? — to say something, because… the Guardian’s bell rang again.
Task No. 17. WRITE A TALE
…Write a fairy tale about any inanimate object — a book, a pen, a desk or a coffee cup — the object is not important. It’s important to animate it, as the true Creator does, and then to feel its problems and sorrows, desires, dreams and hopes, and to guide your main character through the thorns to the stars — to a happy ending…
Don’t forget that you are writing a fairy tale, so the ways of overcoming obstacles can be absolutely incredible. Everything is possible in a fairy tale: magic wands, flying carpets, speeding boots, hats of invisibility, self-assembled tablecloths appear in time in the right place…
The Magician can create an infinite number of magical accessories or use existing ones, he easily provides the characters with superpowers and turns the plot in a happy direction at the right moment…
***
The King of Swords kindly agreed to help me find the church in the forest.
I clung to his hand, and the Blizzard whirled us in the night through the city, while I mentally appealed to all the Higher Forces to guide me to the church by the shortest route.
Soon we found ourselves on the outskirts of the city, and I let myself go, listening to my heart, I wandered, still holding the King of Swords by the hand, through the same Blizzard, but already to the sounds of bells ringing louder and louder in absolute Silence. However, my companion didn’t hear them at all.
And there it was — a miracle! — we reached the bell tower on the edge of the forest.
“Church!!! Look!!! Yes!!! That’s it!!! And the bell tower!!! Its bells were really ringing!!! They called me!! They brought me here!!! The church really exists! Then, so do we!”
The King of Swords looked at me sadly.
“I’m sorry, Alice, but I don’t see it,” he said softly.
I let go of his hand and, with infinite joy in my heart, collapsed into the snow!!!