[ Author: Daniel Bloom ]
I woke in my bed in a sweat bath fully clothed, with a severe headache. I had done the worst nightmare of my life. The bar of the Truce, the photo of Denise, those guys with the ties and the kind with white eyes. It was not just a hallucinatory dream, this time I had the feeling of having experienced a macabre and surreal. glanced at the stopwatch: was 24. Christ, I stayed almost two days.
I toured the room and looked in the mirror on the wall. I was unshaven, his hair uncombed. The headache I broke my temples. I entered the room Denise. It was still a mess after the police had come to do the inspections. I still could not figure out who it was reduced in that state. His death was one of the most gruesome things that the human mind could ever conceive. Found in that pool of blood with no eyes. Who could ever reduce it.
Denise. We met three years ago, we were in the library the first time I saw her. Those deep eyes, her soft curly hair and blacks. I had always been so shy to approach girls ... However, his air so smart and sweet he gave me the courage to talk to her.
So different and so similar. The film, literature, la passione per la musica. Fu un amore immediato. Tutti e due tanto insicuri e curiosi. Le prime uscite e poi la convivenza.
Anni bellissimi, passati insieme prima che quella maledetta idea fissa le prendesse anima e corpo.
Denise era stata sempre attratta dal paranormale, io ci avevo sempre scherzato su, però quella sua mania era diventata via via un’ossessione.
Da circa un anno Denise era diversa, quei suoi occhi così dolci avevano acquistato una fissità inquietante.
Non riusciva più che a parlare di ricevere “la luce”. Tutto era iniziato da quel corso di astrologia dove aveva conosciuto Fabienne. Da quello che mi diceva doveva essere una tipa un po’ stramba. Una signora sulla sessantina. Inizialmente I spoke with irony like an old crazy, Denise then began to speak of her as a superior spirit. Those speeches worried me and she stopped talking.
For a while I thought I was cheating. Her delays were more frequent. And then the strange meeting on Tuesday evening which sometimes came back upset.
I thought it was just one of those periods of crisis that sometimes crossed it.
I looked around the house was reduced to a garbage dump. I had to do some 'order, but did not know how to make out.
In a corner of a picture hanging on the wall: the same nightmare. I lost my breath. I noticed that there were at least two days ate nothing. I was trying to reorganize ideas. It was too late to call a few friends. The next day I would not go to the office. It was a week that I did not see. I was thinking of running away.
I could not stay in those conditions. I had to help me move. Do with a reason.
to sleep not even mentioned. I tried a few books on the shelf. There were still books Denise well ordered. My hand were the bulk of the books along with those of economics and psychology a few texts of literature. Denise was the library of books for the most esoteric and parapsychology. Foreign editions publishers overlooked.
I thought of that dream: the bar of the Truce, those strange people looking at me with that unreal. More and more that I thought I had the feeling of having truly lived.
kept almost mesmerized watching the ribs of those volumes. At some point I realized that a book had been put in reverse. It was an old book with the cover yellowed and faded. You could see an enigmatic title: The Blind. A shiver ran through the back.
As in a fever and I opened the first page was written with a shaky and oblique dedication: The crystal of salvation is in the heart of the flame that burns forever, you'll see it in the enclosed sphere of light.
All the dream as a film in slow motion, precise and clear dense, reappeared in my mind.
0 comments:
Post a Comment