None of the converts are willing to talk to me, but I am directed into a lavish dining room decked out with the interior of a mountain cloud forest. I've always loved orchids and lush environs, but I'm reminded of the horrible wars that have plagued the third world. As I look up into the interior of the arched ceiling I sense the fading glimmers of a dying sun, peaking through the glass vault.
Gretchen is already seated at an intimate corner table. As I approach her I again start to sense that raw genius that had drawn me to her in the previous century. She wore her trademark sweater and I felt strangely at ease. I think I'm hearing her thoughts. I've gone through decades of therapy to eliminate my private insanity of mind reading, the "Kriyas." The popularization of alternative medicine has made my suffering treatable. But I'm realizing, it's not me. Gretchen is telepathically pinging me. I chose to keep those skills unpublished with the hope of protecting the general public from the dangers of mind abuse. It has been years since I used this form of communication. As is the case generally for all of those so called psychics, none of them were ever any good at it. Only my teacher and his secretary seemed to get the subtle humor that comes with real silent intimate understanding.
Now Gretchen is sitting here with all my favorite macro biotic dishes. I feel her warmth for the first time since we'd finished our "Mutual Profiling" app together. Our work together became the cornerstones for our interactive tech industries. I myself had been a real pig to demand un hackable security, which made it necessary to take it ultimately to hard copy, for which I've won many awards. But she had been left with only her unfinished web design. She did get to keep the advancements in secure fire walling, but that was her's anyways. Coding on the computer wasn't my thing. But now I was hearing her voice, in MY head.
So I thought "I'm game," and as I sat down and was drinking in the fragrance of the meal, I imagined saying to her, "Que Pasa?" And I heard her loud and clear.
"GET ME OUT OF HERE!" as if she were using words. I paused to pull my chair in and looked back at her thanking her for the hospitality. Her eyes twinkled but there is still the hint of panic behind her notorious self control. We knew each other real well. We were the first two humans to beta test the Mutual Profiling Assays and the Psychic Battery. The success of these programs were in their usability.
I say to her, "Gretchen, you know Gunter is probably having the whole of Interpol search the globe for me right now, don't you know?" She assured me that Gunter had been informed, I would be spending the night with her, and that I was a guest of Oraca, and that I would be safe. She also clarified that there would be much that I had never been told about.
{Excerpt from "The Bridge Between The Worlds" A Surreal Novella. Starting; Apr. 14th, 2014}
<http://ppireading.blogspot.com/> [Again, my apologies to those of you readers who had not anticipated my blog's sudden transmission into a serial novella.]
No comments:
Post a Comment
Is there anybody out there?