Alexandar Tomov's Blog, page 3
April 18, 2014
The Time Machine
The Indian snapped his fingers and the flames tore up the darkness amidst the old warehouse. I went up to him and the two of us sat down on a small wooden bench by the fire. He looked at me for a brief moment. Then his ancient wrinkled face twisted into a strange smile and he handed me the watch...
It looked like a regular mechanical wristwatch, but instead of hours and minutes, its dial was divided into millennia and centuries. There was no crystal over its face and you could move its hands with your fingers. I thought about what I was seeing and the distant past merged together with the distant future into an eternal present...
“This watch is the time machine. Time is reset through the movement of the hands, regardless of whether they are set back into the past or forward into the future,” I heard the Indian’s deep voice.
“Time travel is possible in theory, according to the laws of physics and quantum mechanics, but it is impossible in practice,” I tried to contradict him.
“Why do you think so?” the old Indian chief from the distant future replied.
“Because of a number of insoluble paradoxes, such as that of the grandfather, if you go back in time, as well as the fact that there are absolutely no visitors from the future in our present time, as would be expected if anyone from the distant or the near future had actually invented a time machine.”
He smiled again, as he stared into the fire.
“There are time travelers everywhere – in the present, in the distant and the recent past, and in the distant and the near future. Only it is impossible for people from different moments in the thread of time to see them. It’s a natural law that solves all the physics paradoxes. And right now, you’re holding the real time machine in your hands. All you have to do is turn the hands,” he told me and before I even realized it, I was already doing it. One of the hands was pointing to the year 4000 already. The space around us got filled with the incredible images of a distant civilization, populated by strange people. I wanted to scream, to say something, but I could feel there was no point, as everything was incorporeal.
“Do you understand now? You can go anywhere, back to the distant past or into the distant future. But when you travel in time, you become a completely invisible and incorporeal ghost. You can see everything that has happened or will happen, but you can’t change any of it. You can’t communicate with people or with reality and you can’t be seen by them, because they either have already taken place or haven’t happened yet. So, the time machine exists, but it has strict physics parameters. And it is precisely those parameters that are man’s retribution from nature…”
“Retribution for what?” I asked, as I turned the hand to the distant past and images of volcanoes and dinosaurs swooped down on me from the space around us.
“The desire to construct a time machine, which is the final expression and the ultimate goal of all physics and mathematics, was built upon the homo sapiens’ extreme selfishness and its desire to control absolutely everything. The desire to control the past, the future, the universe, time, all visible and invisible matter. The nature of space allows for such a machine to actually be constructed. Man can travel through time, but only as an invisible shadow that witnesses everything but has no power to change anything. All kinds of dramatic events, even his own death. He can see it all, but he can’t change any of it.”
“Retribution, right?” the ancient Indian chief pierced me with his gaze again.
My eyes were frantic as I turned the hands of the watch forward, since I wanted to see and understand everything that could possibly take place. It was hard for me to believe everything that was unfolding before my eyes.
“This is incredible! We’re witnessing the impossible!” I exclaimed like a child.
“There’s nothing that incredible about it!” the chief smiled again.
“What do you mean? Until now, nobody could even begin to imagine what a time machine might even look like, and I’m actually holding one in my own hands!”
“In principle, human consciousness – which on a very deep level is a quantum reflection of the universe – is a time machine. Aren’t memories, after all, a way to travel back in time, to the recent and the distant past? And isn’t hope an attempt to construct a possible and longed-for future? And isn’t death actually an eternal present?” the Indian’s voice already sounded distant, while he himself had disappeared.
I didn’t know what I would do with the time machine, which was the greatest invention in the whole history of physics and which I now held in my hands. I couldn’t stop turning the hands of the machine further and further ahead. Soon, I’d already reached millennia in the distant future and I saw an enormous book in the space in front of me, which was titled Cosmic Quantum Philosophy, or the Complete Theory of Everything. The book opened up in the vast, multi-dimensional space and I started to read it.
One of its pages said: “The extreme aggression in every living being, and especially in man, as well as in the behavior of big and small inanimate objects, spaces and anti-spaces, is a means of exercising death, when it is necessary for the curbing of a particular species and the preservation of biodiversity. It is a way for death to go from a passive to an active state. A natural solution in the quantum natural evolution. The only possible way for nature to curb the constantly growing and monstrous diversity of its species and matter. Can you imagine some wolf species, or a colony of parallel universes, which were born but never died and kept growing constantly over the past 750 billion years?”
Another page said: “… We must note that this hypothesis was impossible in ancient times when scientists knew only about the speed of light, but not about that of darkness. If everything that moves with the speed of light stops in time, what would happen to the subjective time of a person who is moving with the speed of light? It is simply a time that stands still while traveling within a time that moves. Or, to put it in simpler terms, the light is actually the eternal, unrealized future, since it travels too fast to have a past.”
The book opened up at a random page, titled “The Physics of Absurdity.” It said: “Every law of physics, which has been born out of the human consciousness can be proven, as it creates its own physics projection into the universe. The only exception consists of the laws that could not be materialized by the universe, which can exist in the deep matrix of infinite human imagination, such as the experiments of the greatest scientist of all time – Mobe. The classic example is his imaginary experiment with infinite speed.
It is simple. In the experiment, a rocket is powered by dark energy’s boundless energy. Thus, at a certain moment, the acceleration exceeds the rocket’s own acceleration and it gathers infinite speed and goes beyond the space-time of the universe. The space-time inside of it shrinks to the point of perfect singularity. Meanwhile, in order to compensate for the rocket’s infinite speed, the time outside of it starts to run backward with the speed of light.”
Translated from the Bulgarian by Ekaterina Petrova
It looked like a regular mechanical wristwatch, but instead of hours and minutes, its dial was divided into millennia and centuries. There was no crystal over its face and you could move its hands with your fingers. I thought about what I was seeing and the distant past merged together with the distant future into an eternal present...
“This watch is the time machine. Time is reset through the movement of the hands, regardless of whether they are set back into the past or forward into the future,” I heard the Indian’s deep voice.
“Time travel is possible in theory, according to the laws of physics and quantum mechanics, but it is impossible in practice,” I tried to contradict him.
“Why do you think so?” the old Indian chief from the distant future replied.
“Because of a number of insoluble paradoxes, such as that of the grandfather, if you go back in time, as well as the fact that there are absolutely no visitors from the future in our present time, as would be expected if anyone from the distant or the near future had actually invented a time machine.”
He smiled again, as he stared into the fire.
“There are time travelers everywhere – in the present, in the distant and the recent past, and in the distant and the near future. Only it is impossible for people from different moments in the thread of time to see them. It’s a natural law that solves all the physics paradoxes. And right now, you’re holding the real time machine in your hands. All you have to do is turn the hands,” he told me and before I even realized it, I was already doing it. One of the hands was pointing to the year 4000 already. The space around us got filled with the incredible images of a distant civilization, populated by strange people. I wanted to scream, to say something, but I could feel there was no point, as everything was incorporeal.
“Do you understand now? You can go anywhere, back to the distant past or into the distant future. But when you travel in time, you become a completely invisible and incorporeal ghost. You can see everything that has happened or will happen, but you can’t change any of it. You can’t communicate with people or with reality and you can’t be seen by them, because they either have already taken place or haven’t happened yet. So, the time machine exists, but it has strict physics parameters. And it is precisely those parameters that are man’s retribution from nature…”
“Retribution for what?” I asked, as I turned the hand to the distant past and images of volcanoes and dinosaurs swooped down on me from the space around us.
“The desire to construct a time machine, which is the final expression and the ultimate goal of all physics and mathematics, was built upon the homo sapiens’ extreme selfishness and its desire to control absolutely everything. The desire to control the past, the future, the universe, time, all visible and invisible matter. The nature of space allows for such a machine to actually be constructed. Man can travel through time, but only as an invisible shadow that witnesses everything but has no power to change anything. All kinds of dramatic events, even his own death. He can see it all, but he can’t change any of it.”
“Retribution, right?” the ancient Indian chief pierced me with his gaze again.
My eyes were frantic as I turned the hands of the watch forward, since I wanted to see and understand everything that could possibly take place. It was hard for me to believe everything that was unfolding before my eyes.
“This is incredible! We’re witnessing the impossible!” I exclaimed like a child.
“There’s nothing that incredible about it!” the chief smiled again.
“What do you mean? Until now, nobody could even begin to imagine what a time machine might even look like, and I’m actually holding one in my own hands!”
“In principle, human consciousness – which on a very deep level is a quantum reflection of the universe – is a time machine. Aren’t memories, after all, a way to travel back in time, to the recent and the distant past? And isn’t hope an attempt to construct a possible and longed-for future? And isn’t death actually an eternal present?” the Indian’s voice already sounded distant, while he himself had disappeared.
I didn’t know what I would do with the time machine, which was the greatest invention in the whole history of physics and which I now held in my hands. I couldn’t stop turning the hands of the machine further and further ahead. Soon, I’d already reached millennia in the distant future and I saw an enormous book in the space in front of me, which was titled Cosmic Quantum Philosophy, or the Complete Theory of Everything. The book opened up in the vast, multi-dimensional space and I started to read it.
One of its pages said: “The extreme aggression in every living being, and especially in man, as well as in the behavior of big and small inanimate objects, spaces and anti-spaces, is a means of exercising death, when it is necessary for the curbing of a particular species and the preservation of biodiversity. It is a way for death to go from a passive to an active state. A natural solution in the quantum natural evolution. The only possible way for nature to curb the constantly growing and monstrous diversity of its species and matter. Can you imagine some wolf species, or a colony of parallel universes, which were born but never died and kept growing constantly over the past 750 billion years?”
Another page said: “… We must note that this hypothesis was impossible in ancient times when scientists knew only about the speed of light, but not about that of darkness. If everything that moves with the speed of light stops in time, what would happen to the subjective time of a person who is moving with the speed of light? It is simply a time that stands still while traveling within a time that moves. Or, to put it in simpler terms, the light is actually the eternal, unrealized future, since it travels too fast to have a past.”
The book opened up at a random page, titled “The Physics of Absurdity.” It said: “Every law of physics, which has been born out of the human consciousness can be proven, as it creates its own physics projection into the universe. The only exception consists of the laws that could not be materialized by the universe, which can exist in the deep matrix of infinite human imagination, such as the experiments of the greatest scientist of all time – Mobe. The classic example is his imaginary experiment with infinite speed.
It is simple. In the experiment, a rocket is powered by dark energy’s boundless energy. Thus, at a certain moment, the acceleration exceeds the rocket’s own acceleration and it gathers infinite speed and goes beyond the space-time of the universe. The space-time inside of it shrinks to the point of perfect singularity. Meanwhile, in order to compensate for the rocket’s infinite speed, the time outside of it starts to run backward with the speed of light.”
Translated from the Bulgarian by Ekaterina Petrova
February 5, 2014
The Hotel of Absurdity
Beyond the Absurd
On that strange morning, it suddenly got dark and I realized that evening had come. I got up from the chair and left the house. I had finally decided to go visit the Hotel of Absurdity. Everybody can visit it just once in his short lifetime, but nobody can ever forget it. That is where the real shadows of things roam about…
As I wondered whether to walk there or take a cab, I found myself already standing in front of the Hotel of Absurdity. It was located on a perfectly ordinary street in the center of the city. It was rather small and looked like some kind of a weirdly shaped house. There was nobody around. I walked in through the glass door and the bellboy greeted me with a strange gesture. I looked around. Red carpets, white walls, a dull yellow light. The place reminded me of somebody else’s childhood that wasn’t quite over…
“Will you be needing a room, or do you just want to walk around?” the bellboy asked me.
“I’d like to walk around, if you’d accompany me,” I answered.
“That’s my job,” he said and the two of us headed up the stairs. Suddenly, I heard a faraway voice through the wall.
“Please, I need somebody to talk to! Can you hear me?”
“Who is that?” I asked and put my ear against the wall.
“It’s the man who got stuck in the elevator,” the bellboy answered.
“How long has he been in there?” I asked.
“About 150 years…”
It was hard for me to believe it, but I accepted it anyway.
“I need to speak to somebody. I haven’t said a word in a hundred years. Ever since that elevator repair guy came by to check on the ropes and the shaft. He was in a hurry, but we still managed to talk for five minutes or so. Ever since then… Can you hear me?”
“Isn’t there anybody who could get him out of there?” I asked the bellboy.
“That’s none of our business. Nor is it any of yours,” he told me and I…. I just forgot about him, as we continued up the stairs.
We were already at the beginning of the hallway on the first floor.
There was an open door next to me. Through the door, I saw a distraught woman with a pained face, who was leaning over a young man. His hair was blond and his face was handsome and radiant.
“Why, my son? Please, tell me why! I did everything I could to raise you well. Everything I could, even though you had no father. God is my witness, I’m a good person. And you, my son…? What made you turn into such a monster? It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve always loved you and taken care of you. You have no motive! Please, tell me what possessed you to kill and murder women and children? Why did you cut them to pieces and eat their flesh?” the desperate woman raved deliriously into the young man’s face. Without saying a word or even flinching, he looked straight into her eyes and smiled tenderly, like a child…
The bellboy looked at me, and then, with a mixture of wonder and indifference, he shrugged his shoulders, and we walked on.
Suddenly, an enthusiastic voice came from some speakers that were apparently concealed in the walls of the red carpet hallway.
“Come to the show – tonight’s spectacle is You in Your Own Deepest Fantasy! The stage will be dominated by a complete and total attitude of ‘anything goes,’ and all moral and human inhibitions will be ignored! All the show’s performances so far have proven that any kinds of perversions are completely normal, since the people performing them are completely normal themselves! The show’s organizer is the great Hatha Yogi Taj Mahar, who died of sunstroke at the North Pole in 1975!”
As we stood there and listened in, the bellboy suddenly took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it.
“Every cigarette is another nail in the coffin, but so is every day in one’s life, through, if I’m being honest, I’ve never seen a coffin with so many nails in it,” he said and smiled sheepishly, as if to himself.
We came to a stop by another room, whose door was open. Through the cigarette smoke, I noticed a strange sight.
Two men and a woman, who were all dressed formally, stood there and leaned over a motionless man in a suit, who was stretched out on the bed. His face was deathly pale, with a barely discernible smile spreading across it.
“Who is this guy?” the woman asked with great astonishment.
“This guy shot himself in the head, but we brought him along anyway! We’re not sure if he’s actually dead. The doctor can’t tell either. Sometimes it’s hard to tell life and death apart. We thought we’d bury him, but to me it seems like his face keeps twitching from time to time,” one of the men said.
“Yes, in principle he’s a cadaver, through every once in a while it seems like he’s smiling,” the other man added with a wise expression, while the bellboy and I continued down the hallway.
Soon, we came to a stop in front of a closed door. The bellboy motioned for me to come closer. I put my ear against the door…
“… The Masters of the World radical group is starting a new campaign under the slogan, ‘The country of --- – may its territory’s borders extend to three different oceans!’ If some other country mocks the endeavor, the Masters of the World would consider this a grave insult and will have no choice but to respond to such ridicule with nuclear weapons!”
The bellboy and I exchanged glances and we both shrugged, kind of naturally. Then once again, we headed down the hallway, whose end was already in sight. From several feet away, I could hear a heated argument. I stopped next to another open door. Through it, I saw two men, both dressed in elegant suits, who stood face-to-face with each other, as in an ancient battle. Both of them had white hair and anxious expressions. A small fire was burning on the floor next to them.
“There’s some kind of logic to be found in virtually each and every absurdity in this world, even in the most total of absurdities!” one of them said.
“I’ve never heard a bolder claim! Then let me put you to a challenge! Find the logic in that ancient movie’s senseless line, which went like this, ‘I always tell the truth. Even when I lie.’”
“Of course there’s logic in it! Don’t you see it? That’s not a challenge, it’s mere child’s play,” his opponent said, without even stopping to think about it.
“Then, explain to me how you can detect even a hint of logic in it!”
“It’s very simple. The line’s logic is obvious, if we assume that the man who said it was a blatant and over-the-top liar. If he purposefully lied in a way that let everyone know that he was lying, this means that by lying, he expressed himself as a liar. Therefore, in a weird way, he revealed the truth about himself through lying.”
“Yes, this might possibly be a logical thread, but…”
I had already walked by the room and now it was forever behind me.
“I can only accompany you to this point! This is as far as I can go! Complete absurdity lies beyond this line!” the bellboy said, as he fell several feet behind.
“What line? We’re right in the middle of the hallway! Where do you see a line?” I turned to him and asked.
He just raised his eyebrows.
Very slowly, I headed to the end of the hallway. Several feet in front of me, there was a room, whose door was closed. I heard a voice coming from the inside. Nervously, I walked up to the door and put my ear against it…
I heard the noise of restless footsteps and the banging of some kind of metal, followed by the sound of an overexcited voice speaking on the telephone.
“Yes, he’s here. Right here in front of me! Right in front of my eyes! His wife is also here, but she has no desire to speak to anyone, considering the madness – and that’s putting it mildly – of the situation.”
This was followed by a brief pause…
“The lawyer is right in front of me and it’s all completely true.”
Another brief pause.
“Everything you heard is indisputably true, although I doubt that anyone who hasn’t seen it would believe it. One morning, the head of my lawyer, who is presently standing right in front of me here in the hotel… well, his head turned into… a teapot. It’s absurd, really. His wife panicked and brought him here to the hotel, then called me. Almost none of his friends and colleagues know about this metamorphosis. The whole story is undoubtedly a little Kafkaesque, but even more absurd. It’s obvious that as long as he has a teapot for a head, the lawyer won’t be able to defend anybody in court. He’s not able to speak at all, actually. From time to time, the teapot’s metal lid starts rattling excitedly, and this is a sign that he’s trying to say something. He’s also making attempts to write things down, in the hope of explaining how he woke up one morning and, instead of a head, he had a brand new and modern teapot on his shoulders, and what it all means. There are some doubts that what’s at play here is an evil curse, put on him by a gypsy, whose son was murdered by a criminal that the lawyer defended and managed to exonerate. When his wife mentions the case in question, steam starts furiously coming out of the teapot’s metal spout, as if it were boiling, which is most likely the lawyer’s attempt to express his anger…”
I pulled my head away from the door in astonishment. I felt an overwhelming urge to open it and see the lawyer who had a teapot instead of a head. But something stopped me from acting on it.
I continued carefully walking down the red carpet. And suddenly, I though of something absurd, a memory from my distant past. It was an eternity ago, when I was still half a child. It’s late at night, I’m drunk and I’m walking together with a distant acquaintance of mine. This is before life separated us and we never saw each other again. We are walking to a bar, now long gone, though in my memory it is still open. We’re giddy from the alcohol and we keep smoking one cigarette after another.
“How quickly the cigarettes run out,” I say suddenly, astonished.
And then, for a moment, through the drunken delirium of that inebriated night, now long-lost and forgotten in the stream of time, I see something in my acquaintance change. It’s as though he’s become a completely different person.
“Everything comes to an end. Cigarettes run out. Life runs out too…” he says, with a wise man’s voice.
I was already getting to the end of the Hotel of Absurdity’s cozy and mysterious hallway. There was a small window there, which revealed a spectacular view. A mysterious woman who had long black hair and wore a jacket stood by the window. I came to a halt beside her and looked through the window. She turned to me and gave me a barely discernible smile. Her pale face was beautiful.
“Look at that view! The end of the world! Isn’t it romantic?”
“It is,” I said awkwardly. The view was truly strange. On the outside, life was going on as usual. I knew that the Hotel of Absurdity’s hallway was the only place where one could see the end of the world before it had actually happened.
“I don’t know why, but this nocturnal apocalypse reminds me of a poem from my childhood. I don’t remember all of it, but I think its ending went something like this,
What’s even stranger is that
All these strange things are just a mere speck
Along the path to the strangest day of all.
The Day of the Final Death Toll.”
“What an incredible verse,” I said in amazement.
She looked at me again, and her face had become seductive. Unintentionally, I felt desire for her.
“Please, promise me something,” she said.
“What?”
“Promise me that you’ll never fall in love with me!”
I felt like my consciousness was splitting in two.
“Why would I promise you such a thing?”
“Because I’m very perverted!” she said and turned back to look at the apocalypse through the window.
Without a word, I turned away from her and headed back down the hallway. By then, the view of the end of the world through the window was a distant memory. A moment later, I was already downstairs and the bellboy was politely walking me through the front door. I found myself on the street. I turned around and looked at that ridiculous bellboy, whose strange clothes and absurd expression made him look like a clown.
“Farewell. We might never see each other again,” I said, a little sadly.
With a twisted and ridiculous face, the bellboy reached out his hand, pointed his finger at me, and said excitedly, “Life is short.”
Translated from the Bulgarian by Ekaterina Petrova
On that strange morning, it suddenly got dark and I realized that evening had come. I got up from the chair and left the house. I had finally decided to go visit the Hotel of Absurdity. Everybody can visit it just once in his short lifetime, but nobody can ever forget it. That is where the real shadows of things roam about…
As I wondered whether to walk there or take a cab, I found myself already standing in front of the Hotel of Absurdity. It was located on a perfectly ordinary street in the center of the city. It was rather small and looked like some kind of a weirdly shaped house. There was nobody around. I walked in through the glass door and the bellboy greeted me with a strange gesture. I looked around. Red carpets, white walls, a dull yellow light. The place reminded me of somebody else’s childhood that wasn’t quite over…
“Will you be needing a room, or do you just want to walk around?” the bellboy asked me.
“I’d like to walk around, if you’d accompany me,” I answered.
“That’s my job,” he said and the two of us headed up the stairs. Suddenly, I heard a faraway voice through the wall.
“Please, I need somebody to talk to! Can you hear me?”
“Who is that?” I asked and put my ear against the wall.
“It’s the man who got stuck in the elevator,” the bellboy answered.
“How long has he been in there?” I asked.
“About 150 years…”
It was hard for me to believe it, but I accepted it anyway.
“I need to speak to somebody. I haven’t said a word in a hundred years. Ever since that elevator repair guy came by to check on the ropes and the shaft. He was in a hurry, but we still managed to talk for five minutes or so. Ever since then… Can you hear me?”
“Isn’t there anybody who could get him out of there?” I asked the bellboy.
“That’s none of our business. Nor is it any of yours,” he told me and I…. I just forgot about him, as we continued up the stairs.
We were already at the beginning of the hallway on the first floor.
There was an open door next to me. Through the door, I saw a distraught woman with a pained face, who was leaning over a young man. His hair was blond and his face was handsome and radiant.
“Why, my son? Please, tell me why! I did everything I could to raise you well. Everything I could, even though you had no father. God is my witness, I’m a good person. And you, my son…? What made you turn into such a monster? It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve always loved you and taken care of you. You have no motive! Please, tell me what possessed you to kill and murder women and children? Why did you cut them to pieces and eat their flesh?” the desperate woman raved deliriously into the young man’s face. Without saying a word or even flinching, he looked straight into her eyes and smiled tenderly, like a child…
The bellboy looked at me, and then, with a mixture of wonder and indifference, he shrugged his shoulders, and we walked on.
Suddenly, an enthusiastic voice came from some speakers that were apparently concealed in the walls of the red carpet hallway.
“Come to the show – tonight’s spectacle is You in Your Own Deepest Fantasy! The stage will be dominated by a complete and total attitude of ‘anything goes,’ and all moral and human inhibitions will be ignored! All the show’s performances so far have proven that any kinds of perversions are completely normal, since the people performing them are completely normal themselves! The show’s organizer is the great Hatha Yogi Taj Mahar, who died of sunstroke at the North Pole in 1975!”
As we stood there and listened in, the bellboy suddenly took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it.
“Every cigarette is another nail in the coffin, but so is every day in one’s life, through, if I’m being honest, I’ve never seen a coffin with so many nails in it,” he said and smiled sheepishly, as if to himself.
We came to a stop by another room, whose door was open. Through the cigarette smoke, I noticed a strange sight.
Two men and a woman, who were all dressed formally, stood there and leaned over a motionless man in a suit, who was stretched out on the bed. His face was deathly pale, with a barely discernible smile spreading across it.
“Who is this guy?” the woman asked with great astonishment.
“This guy shot himself in the head, but we brought him along anyway! We’re not sure if he’s actually dead. The doctor can’t tell either. Sometimes it’s hard to tell life and death apart. We thought we’d bury him, but to me it seems like his face keeps twitching from time to time,” one of the men said.
“Yes, in principle he’s a cadaver, through every once in a while it seems like he’s smiling,” the other man added with a wise expression, while the bellboy and I continued down the hallway.
Soon, we came to a stop in front of a closed door. The bellboy motioned for me to come closer. I put my ear against the door…
“… The Masters of the World radical group is starting a new campaign under the slogan, ‘The country of --- – may its territory’s borders extend to three different oceans!’ If some other country mocks the endeavor, the Masters of the World would consider this a grave insult and will have no choice but to respond to such ridicule with nuclear weapons!”
The bellboy and I exchanged glances and we both shrugged, kind of naturally. Then once again, we headed down the hallway, whose end was already in sight. From several feet away, I could hear a heated argument. I stopped next to another open door. Through it, I saw two men, both dressed in elegant suits, who stood face-to-face with each other, as in an ancient battle. Both of them had white hair and anxious expressions. A small fire was burning on the floor next to them.
“There’s some kind of logic to be found in virtually each and every absurdity in this world, even in the most total of absurdities!” one of them said.
“I’ve never heard a bolder claim! Then let me put you to a challenge! Find the logic in that ancient movie’s senseless line, which went like this, ‘I always tell the truth. Even when I lie.’”
“Of course there’s logic in it! Don’t you see it? That’s not a challenge, it’s mere child’s play,” his opponent said, without even stopping to think about it.
“Then, explain to me how you can detect even a hint of logic in it!”
“It’s very simple. The line’s logic is obvious, if we assume that the man who said it was a blatant and over-the-top liar. If he purposefully lied in a way that let everyone know that he was lying, this means that by lying, he expressed himself as a liar. Therefore, in a weird way, he revealed the truth about himself through lying.”
“Yes, this might possibly be a logical thread, but…”
I had already walked by the room and now it was forever behind me.
“I can only accompany you to this point! This is as far as I can go! Complete absurdity lies beyond this line!” the bellboy said, as he fell several feet behind.
“What line? We’re right in the middle of the hallway! Where do you see a line?” I turned to him and asked.
He just raised his eyebrows.
Very slowly, I headed to the end of the hallway. Several feet in front of me, there was a room, whose door was closed. I heard a voice coming from the inside. Nervously, I walked up to the door and put my ear against it…
I heard the noise of restless footsteps and the banging of some kind of metal, followed by the sound of an overexcited voice speaking on the telephone.
“Yes, he’s here. Right here in front of me! Right in front of my eyes! His wife is also here, but she has no desire to speak to anyone, considering the madness – and that’s putting it mildly – of the situation.”
This was followed by a brief pause…
“The lawyer is right in front of me and it’s all completely true.”
Another brief pause.
“Everything you heard is indisputably true, although I doubt that anyone who hasn’t seen it would believe it. One morning, the head of my lawyer, who is presently standing right in front of me here in the hotel… well, his head turned into… a teapot. It’s absurd, really. His wife panicked and brought him here to the hotel, then called me. Almost none of his friends and colleagues know about this metamorphosis. The whole story is undoubtedly a little Kafkaesque, but even more absurd. It’s obvious that as long as he has a teapot for a head, the lawyer won’t be able to defend anybody in court. He’s not able to speak at all, actually. From time to time, the teapot’s metal lid starts rattling excitedly, and this is a sign that he’s trying to say something. He’s also making attempts to write things down, in the hope of explaining how he woke up one morning and, instead of a head, he had a brand new and modern teapot on his shoulders, and what it all means. There are some doubts that what’s at play here is an evil curse, put on him by a gypsy, whose son was murdered by a criminal that the lawyer defended and managed to exonerate. When his wife mentions the case in question, steam starts furiously coming out of the teapot’s metal spout, as if it were boiling, which is most likely the lawyer’s attempt to express his anger…”
I pulled my head away from the door in astonishment. I felt an overwhelming urge to open it and see the lawyer who had a teapot instead of a head. But something stopped me from acting on it.
I continued carefully walking down the red carpet. And suddenly, I though of something absurd, a memory from my distant past. It was an eternity ago, when I was still half a child. It’s late at night, I’m drunk and I’m walking together with a distant acquaintance of mine. This is before life separated us and we never saw each other again. We are walking to a bar, now long gone, though in my memory it is still open. We’re giddy from the alcohol and we keep smoking one cigarette after another.
“How quickly the cigarettes run out,” I say suddenly, astonished.
And then, for a moment, through the drunken delirium of that inebriated night, now long-lost and forgotten in the stream of time, I see something in my acquaintance change. It’s as though he’s become a completely different person.
“Everything comes to an end. Cigarettes run out. Life runs out too…” he says, with a wise man’s voice.
I was already getting to the end of the Hotel of Absurdity’s cozy and mysterious hallway. There was a small window there, which revealed a spectacular view. A mysterious woman who had long black hair and wore a jacket stood by the window. I came to a halt beside her and looked through the window. She turned to me and gave me a barely discernible smile. Her pale face was beautiful.
“Look at that view! The end of the world! Isn’t it romantic?”
“It is,” I said awkwardly. The view was truly strange. On the outside, life was going on as usual. I knew that the Hotel of Absurdity’s hallway was the only place where one could see the end of the world before it had actually happened.
“I don’t know why, but this nocturnal apocalypse reminds me of a poem from my childhood. I don’t remember all of it, but I think its ending went something like this,
What’s even stranger is that
All these strange things are just a mere speck
Along the path to the strangest day of all.
The Day of the Final Death Toll.”
“What an incredible verse,” I said in amazement.
She looked at me again, and her face had become seductive. Unintentionally, I felt desire for her.
“Please, promise me something,” she said.
“What?”
“Promise me that you’ll never fall in love with me!”
I felt like my consciousness was splitting in two.
“Why would I promise you such a thing?”
“Because I’m very perverted!” she said and turned back to look at the apocalypse through the window.
Without a word, I turned away from her and headed back down the hallway. By then, the view of the end of the world through the window was a distant memory. A moment later, I was already downstairs and the bellboy was politely walking me through the front door. I found myself on the street. I turned around and looked at that ridiculous bellboy, whose strange clothes and absurd expression made him look like a clown.
“Farewell. We might never see each other again,” I said, a little sadly.
With a twisted and ridiculous face, the bellboy reached out his hand, pointed his finger at me, and said excitedly, “Life is short.”
Translated from the Bulgarian by Ekaterina Petrova
November 1, 2013
Beyond the Absurd - short story
Beyond the Absurd - short story
Beyond the Absurd
Translated from the Bulgarian by Ekaterina Petrova
“Hello to you, Mr. Chief Advisor of the World’s Nations. And hello to you all, esteemed members of the Commission on Humanity’s Global Issues,” I greeted the well-dressed gentlemen, who sat around the round table in the conference hall of the estate. They all nodded at me, while the Chief Advisor made a polite gesture for me to take a seat.
“Before we start, could I make a disturbing announcement?” I asked, slightly agitated.
“Of course, go ahead,” the Chief Advisor replied.
“It has to do with something I saw inadvertently on my way to this hall. As I walked down the corridor, I noticed that the door of the first room was ajar. I couldn’t resist taking a peek inside, and what I saw…”
The Chief Advisor blushed, but remained calm.
“Look, I’m quite bothered by what I saw. You summon me up here, to attend this global political meeting, whose goal it is to preserve world peace and elect a new global president, and as I walk down the corridor of your estate, what do I see through an open door but … how can I express myself… the only words that come to mind… An unbridled orgy, happening amidst some fires in the actual room! What does this mean? Could you give me an explanation?”
The Chief Advisor sighed.
“Look, the Devil has asked me. We’re very old acquaintances, he and I, and I couldn’t turn him down. My estate is enormous, so he asked me for a little space, since hell has become totally overpopulated and there’s no room left whatsoever. He doesn’t have any choice in the matter Himself. Nowadays, everyone wants to go to hell, and the Devil, being as decent as he is, can’t turn anyone down. You understand, don’t you? There’s nobody left in Heaven. Heaven has gone bankrupt,” the statesman answered in all sincerity.
“I do understand, but you could’ve warned me. After all, such a sight is bound to shock more or less everybody!”
“You’re right. I apologize. The door should’ve been kept closed but the weather today is bad and the wind must’ve blown it open. I promise that this will never happen again,” he turned not just to me, but to the other attendees as well, who all looked like prominent politicians.
“Now, let us move on to the main issue. We’re all awaiting your opinion on it with great anticipation,” he turned to me.
I took a careful look at the gentlemen in attendance. Their faces were serious and tense. After all, the preservation of world peace depended on this meeting, as did the election of a global president, whose candidacy I was supposed to approve.
“So, did you look through the documents?” the Chief Advisor asked me.
“I looked through absolutely everything,” I replied.
“And what do you think about the new global presidential candidate? His record and political accomplishments are impressive, aren’t they? It’s also true that he’s had quite a turbulent youth, but all that was a very, very long time ago,” our eyes met.
“He’s definitely had ‘quite a turbulent youth’. He was actually raping and murdering women back then. He was like a psychopath serial killer. That’s what his police record says.”
“Look, what does this matter now,” the Chief Advisor was a little angry. “Consider his career! His education. His accomplishments. His initiatives. That whole thing with the women is a very old story, now entirely forgotten. Even the parents of the women he killed have completely erased them from their memories, having carried on with their lives. Everyone makes mistakes when they’re young. Absolutely everyone. But the most important thing is how one changes after that, and what one eventually does with his life, isn’t it? And that man has gotten really far in his social and political activities, wouldn’t your agree?”
I thought about it for a second.
“I do agree. But that thing from his past, it still bothers me a little,” I replied.
“Don’t be like that. World peace is hanging on this candidate! Don’t destroy it. Let us forget about the past,” the Chief Advisor started persuading me.
I thought about it again.
“Alright. Let it go on the record that I endorse this candidate. Though to all of you, I’d like to say that I remain a little wary.”
Everyone stood up and started applauding. I did too. The Chief Advisor came up to me and embraced me.
“I have to go. I have another, much more important meeting, as you must know?” I said impatiently.
“Of course. I’ll walk you out. You should know that you made the right decision,” the two of us were already walking down the corridor.
Before long, we’d reached the slightly open door, through which the orgy could be seen.
I decided to tease the Chief Advisor a little and turned to him.
“Mr. Advisor, can I ask you a personal question?”
“Of course.”
“You’re a man who’s already of a certain age. Aren’t you planning on having any children?”
His expression changed immediately. He looked at me in disbelief and terror.
“Are you serious? What children?”
“Well, ever since antiquity, as you know, people have been bringing forth children, or at least a child. That is why we still exist. Don’t you want to have at least one child?”
“Is that the kind of monster you take me for? I’m not so sinisterly egoistic, as to create a being with the instincts of a monster, a being that would always lust after what it cannot have. A creature that will spend its whole life being afraid of death, and rightly so, as in the end it’s bound to die. There are already too many such creatures in the world. The egotism of creating one more, and in such a frivolous manner, is beyond the absurd! But you’re joking, aren’t you? You’re quite the comedian,” he finally realized and smiled.
“Of course I am,” I replied and smiled back.
“And, please, get somebody to finally shut this door,” I said out loud, as the two of us stared into the narrow opening.
Beyond the Absurd
Translated from the Bulgarian by Ekaterina Petrova
“Hello to you, Mr. Chief Advisor of the World’s Nations. And hello to you all, esteemed members of the Commission on Humanity’s Global Issues,” I greeted the well-dressed gentlemen, who sat around the round table in the conference hall of the estate. They all nodded at me, while the Chief Advisor made a polite gesture for me to take a seat.
“Before we start, could I make a disturbing announcement?” I asked, slightly agitated.
“Of course, go ahead,” the Chief Advisor replied.
“It has to do with something I saw inadvertently on my way to this hall. As I walked down the corridor, I noticed that the door of the first room was ajar. I couldn’t resist taking a peek inside, and what I saw…”
The Chief Advisor blushed, but remained calm.
“Look, I’m quite bothered by what I saw. You summon me up here, to attend this global political meeting, whose goal it is to preserve world peace and elect a new global president, and as I walk down the corridor of your estate, what do I see through an open door but … how can I express myself… the only words that come to mind… An unbridled orgy, happening amidst some fires in the actual room! What does this mean? Could you give me an explanation?”
The Chief Advisor sighed.
“Look, the Devil has asked me. We’re very old acquaintances, he and I, and I couldn’t turn him down. My estate is enormous, so he asked me for a little space, since hell has become totally overpopulated and there’s no room left whatsoever. He doesn’t have any choice in the matter Himself. Nowadays, everyone wants to go to hell, and the Devil, being as decent as he is, can’t turn anyone down. You understand, don’t you? There’s nobody left in Heaven. Heaven has gone bankrupt,” the statesman answered in all sincerity.
“I do understand, but you could’ve warned me. After all, such a sight is bound to shock more or less everybody!”
“You’re right. I apologize. The door should’ve been kept closed but the weather today is bad and the wind must’ve blown it open. I promise that this will never happen again,” he turned not just to me, but to the other attendees as well, who all looked like prominent politicians.
“Now, let us move on to the main issue. We’re all awaiting your opinion on it with great anticipation,” he turned to me.
I took a careful look at the gentlemen in attendance. Their faces were serious and tense. After all, the preservation of world peace depended on this meeting, as did the election of a global president, whose candidacy I was supposed to approve.
“So, did you look through the documents?” the Chief Advisor asked me.
“I looked through absolutely everything,” I replied.
“And what do you think about the new global presidential candidate? His record and political accomplishments are impressive, aren’t they? It’s also true that he’s had quite a turbulent youth, but all that was a very, very long time ago,” our eyes met.
“He’s definitely had ‘quite a turbulent youth’. He was actually raping and murdering women back then. He was like a psychopath serial killer. That’s what his police record says.”
“Look, what does this matter now,” the Chief Advisor was a little angry. “Consider his career! His education. His accomplishments. His initiatives. That whole thing with the women is a very old story, now entirely forgotten. Even the parents of the women he killed have completely erased them from their memories, having carried on with their lives. Everyone makes mistakes when they’re young. Absolutely everyone. But the most important thing is how one changes after that, and what one eventually does with his life, isn’t it? And that man has gotten really far in his social and political activities, wouldn’t your agree?”
I thought about it for a second.
“I do agree. But that thing from his past, it still bothers me a little,” I replied.
“Don’t be like that. World peace is hanging on this candidate! Don’t destroy it. Let us forget about the past,” the Chief Advisor started persuading me.
I thought about it again.
“Alright. Let it go on the record that I endorse this candidate. Though to all of you, I’d like to say that I remain a little wary.”
Everyone stood up and started applauding. I did too. The Chief Advisor came up to me and embraced me.
“I have to go. I have another, much more important meeting, as you must know?” I said impatiently.
“Of course. I’ll walk you out. You should know that you made the right decision,” the two of us were already walking down the corridor.
Before long, we’d reached the slightly open door, through which the orgy could be seen.
I decided to tease the Chief Advisor a little and turned to him.
“Mr. Advisor, can I ask you a personal question?”
“Of course.”
“You’re a man who’s already of a certain age. Aren’t you planning on having any children?”
His expression changed immediately. He looked at me in disbelief and terror.
“Are you serious? What children?”
“Well, ever since antiquity, as you know, people have been bringing forth children, or at least a child. That is why we still exist. Don’t you want to have at least one child?”
“Is that the kind of monster you take me for? I’m not so sinisterly egoistic, as to create a being with the instincts of a monster, a being that would always lust after what it cannot have. A creature that will spend its whole life being afraid of death, and rightly so, as in the end it’s bound to die. There are already too many such creatures in the world. The egotism of creating one more, and in such a frivolous manner, is beyond the absurd! But you’re joking, aren’t you? You’re quite the comedian,” he finally realized and smiled.
“Of course I am,” I replied and smiled back.
“And, please, get somebody to finally shut this door,” I said out loud, as the two of us stared into the narrow opening.
October 20, 2013
One short story from my future book: “Beyond the Absurd”.
STORY 1
Translated from the Bulgarian by Ekaterina Petrova
There’s a street from the distant future, where it’s always raining. I’ve asked myself a thousand times why it only rains there. I love rain. It’s eternal and cleansing.
Once again, I’m there at dusk, waiting for the ghost of that mysterious woman to appear, the one who caused the end of the world to come. The only woman in eternity that I’m in love with.
I knew I’d shown up a little early and decided to take a walk while waiting for her.
I headed down the cross street. It was made of glass. It was deserted and ablaze with light. There was nobody around. I stared at the dusky sky, where I saw something that looked like an enormous airplane. What is it doing there and where are the people now, I asked myself, though I knew I wouldn’t find out, as I couldn’t possibly know all the details about the distant future. As I walked down the sidewalk, I reached something resembling a large, open kiosk. It looked like a pharmacy. Suddenly, a blond kid with sad eyes and strange clothes popped up in front of me and, without paying me any attention, went up to the kiosk. At its window stood a young woman wearing a white lab coat. She was beautiful. I stopped in front of them.
“What would you like? Are you feeling sick?” the woman asked the kid.
He fell silent for a few seconds.
“I’d like something against death…?” he said, to my amazement.
“You know I can’t do that. You’re way too young. Where are your parents? Why aren’t you at school?” the pharmacist’s answer amazed me even more.
“Please, give me something against death!” the kid continued to insist.
“Look, I think you better go home and get some sleep, no matter what happened or who died. You must’ve heard that giving out drugs against death to children is strictly prohibited. They could poison your psyche.”
“But can’t you give me just a tiny bit? I feel terrible and want to try some! Everyone says these drugs are quite effective,” the kid continued to insist.
“If you don’t feel well, go to the doctor. If he prescribes you a children’s dose of medicine against death, and you come back with the prescription, then I’ll give it to you. Otherwise it’s impossible.”
The child fell silent for a while.
“Then at least tell me, what are these drugs against death like?” he finally asked.
“I knew it! You little scoundrel! Nobody’s actually died, have they? You just ran away from school and now you’re trying to trick me, just to satisfy your curiosity. You better go home, before I call your parents. And when it comes to these drugs against death,” she gave him a teasing smile, “you’ll find out what they’re like when you grow up.”
The kid hung around for a few more seconds, then ran down the street and quickly disappeared from my sight.
“Good afternoon!” I was already standing in front of the window.
“Good time of day, rather!” the pharmacist replied.
“What does that mean, good time of day?” I inquired.
“That’s how people greet each other between noon and evening! Where do you come from?” she asked with a surprise.
“It doesn’t matter. I’d like some medicine against death!” I said and dug into my pocket for some money.
“You need a prescription for that, sir.”
“I’ll pay double!” I said.
“What? Are you addicted to drugs against death, or what? You better go, before I call the police.”
“Look… all right. I’m not going to insist. I’d just like to know, what are these drugs like, exactly?”
She gave me a somewhat apprehensive and bewildered look, as if she was looking at a mentally ill person.
“Sir, where do you come from? Are you mad, or are you maybe suffering from severe amnesia?”
“Yes, I’m suffering from severe amnesia and I need to be reminded of some ordinary things, which I seem to have forgotten. Please, just briefly explain to me what these drugs against death are, and I’ll go immediately.”
Her face looked frightened as she hesitated for a few seconds.
“Well, most commonly, they are special eyeglasses, which cause powerful visual hallucinations. Bright visions that provoke dark sexual fantasies and increase the human libido a hundredfold. They cause people to fall into the abyss of their own sexuality, making it possible for them to have up to one hundred orgasms per minute. As long as the drug is working, the patients totally forget about death as a whole, and even – to quote some of the information leaflets, ‘all the death in the world,’ since they’re obsessed with chasing after their pleasure. But these drugs are only available by prescription, and only to people who are very depressed. Most frequently, these are people who’ve lost a child. One has to be very careful with them, as they can be highly addictive. That’s it. I hope that this has made you remember. And now, please, go away,” she says.
Astounded, I continue walking down the sidewalk. At its end, there is a small, glowing table. An elderly man wearing glasses is sitting at the table and reading a newspaper. There’s an empty chair next to him. I go up to him and take a look at my watch. I still have fifteen minutes before my meeting, and the street where it’s always raining is just a few hundred feet away.
“Sir, can I sit down for a bit?” I ask.
“Of course, go right ahead,” he says and continues leafing through the paper.
Unintentionally, I start scanning the headlines. It says:
“The Chinese man, – – –, has fallen in love! Something that hasn’t happened in two hundred years! Unfortunately, this unfamiliar feeling made him so worried that he condemned himself to being unafraid of death and got into a fatal car accident that same night! The doctors will be able to revive him for an hour at most, but that should be enough to run some tests and find out how the ancient feeling arose in him!”
Elsewhere, it says:
“Psychologists have finally proven that the entire justice system’s deep motives and its idea as a whole, which have existed for thousands of years, are completely false, since they rest upon empty human delusions. Namely, the delusion that people can control or change the future and win over the evil that has already taken place. According to the studies, this is impossible, since it’s the evil of the moment that makes the world go round and this is a fixed constant.
“All efforts and means to somehow compensate for it in the future serve only to feed the human ego in an imaginary way and are thus impossible, since both the world and its people are changing constantly and at a very quick pace.
“According to our editor-in-chief, this is undoubtedly reminiscent of an idea of the great author from the end of the third millennium, – – –, ‘On an unconscious level, the idea of what’s good and moral is nothing more than an empty illusion, which weak use to people compensate for their own powerlessness in an imaginary way.’”
Next to the article, set off in a small box, I read the following headline: “Exclusive Interview with the Mother of the World’s Youngest Suicide, 4-Year-Old – – –, Who Killed Himself Yesterday, Just After his Birthday.”
“My son. He died very young, a mere child. But he died like a hero. He was barely four, but he’d hated the whole world ever since he was two. I think that deep inside, he felt as only a child could feel. Yesterday, shortly after he turned four, he went up to the roof of our apartment building, to the 12th floor. A crowd gathered below and started starting at him. He looked at it with the eyes of an adult and jumped over the railing. Then, as he fell to his death, and seemingly without a drop of fear, he put out his hand and showed everyone a vulgar, but very real gesture – his middle finger. A truly mystical death. I’ll never forget it.”
The man turns to another page. On it, it says:
“According to the contemporary sociologist – – –, the end of the world will come when people start to commit murders in the name of hope! When they realize that each death in the present eventually gets forgotten and the only way for the human soul to be purified is for the dead to outnumber the living in the present moment! The dead themselves, or the idea and memory of them, are debating on the subject!”
I take a look at my watch. It’s already time. I get up from the table.
“Goodbye, sir. Have a pleasant time of day!”
He looks at me and gives me a strange smile.
“Goodbye, and have a pleasant evening, rather!” he says, and continues his reading.
I walk quickly. Before long, I’m already at the beginning of the street where it’s always raining. It’s dark and the evening rain is swooping down on the dim lights of the street lamps. Why isn’t that woman here? I even came a little late! There’s something I’m forgetting. I think about it and I remember.
“Everything, even the end of the world, is an escape from loneliness,” I say out loud.
And then, as I look on with amazement, her mysterious ghost slowly appears at the end of the street.
Translated from the Bulgarian by Ekaterina Petrova
There’s a street from the distant future, where it’s always raining. I’ve asked myself a thousand times why it only rains there. I love rain. It’s eternal and cleansing.
Once again, I’m there at dusk, waiting for the ghost of that mysterious woman to appear, the one who caused the end of the world to come. The only woman in eternity that I’m in love with.
I knew I’d shown up a little early and decided to take a walk while waiting for her.
I headed down the cross street. It was made of glass. It was deserted and ablaze with light. There was nobody around. I stared at the dusky sky, where I saw something that looked like an enormous airplane. What is it doing there and where are the people now, I asked myself, though I knew I wouldn’t find out, as I couldn’t possibly know all the details about the distant future. As I walked down the sidewalk, I reached something resembling a large, open kiosk. It looked like a pharmacy. Suddenly, a blond kid with sad eyes and strange clothes popped up in front of me and, without paying me any attention, went up to the kiosk. At its window stood a young woman wearing a white lab coat. She was beautiful. I stopped in front of them.
“What would you like? Are you feeling sick?” the woman asked the kid.
He fell silent for a few seconds.
“I’d like something against death…?” he said, to my amazement.
“You know I can’t do that. You’re way too young. Where are your parents? Why aren’t you at school?” the pharmacist’s answer amazed me even more.
“Please, give me something against death!” the kid continued to insist.
“Look, I think you better go home and get some sleep, no matter what happened or who died. You must’ve heard that giving out drugs against death to children is strictly prohibited. They could poison your psyche.”
“But can’t you give me just a tiny bit? I feel terrible and want to try some! Everyone says these drugs are quite effective,” the kid continued to insist.
“If you don’t feel well, go to the doctor. If he prescribes you a children’s dose of medicine against death, and you come back with the prescription, then I’ll give it to you. Otherwise it’s impossible.”
The child fell silent for a while.
“Then at least tell me, what are these drugs against death like?” he finally asked.
“I knew it! You little scoundrel! Nobody’s actually died, have they? You just ran away from school and now you’re trying to trick me, just to satisfy your curiosity. You better go home, before I call your parents. And when it comes to these drugs against death,” she gave him a teasing smile, “you’ll find out what they’re like when you grow up.”
The kid hung around for a few more seconds, then ran down the street and quickly disappeared from my sight.
“Good afternoon!” I was already standing in front of the window.
“Good time of day, rather!” the pharmacist replied.
“What does that mean, good time of day?” I inquired.
“That’s how people greet each other between noon and evening! Where do you come from?” she asked with a surprise.
“It doesn’t matter. I’d like some medicine against death!” I said and dug into my pocket for some money.
“You need a prescription for that, sir.”
“I’ll pay double!” I said.
“What? Are you addicted to drugs against death, or what? You better go, before I call the police.”
“Look… all right. I’m not going to insist. I’d just like to know, what are these drugs like, exactly?”
She gave me a somewhat apprehensive and bewildered look, as if she was looking at a mentally ill person.
“Sir, where do you come from? Are you mad, or are you maybe suffering from severe amnesia?”
“Yes, I’m suffering from severe amnesia and I need to be reminded of some ordinary things, which I seem to have forgotten. Please, just briefly explain to me what these drugs against death are, and I’ll go immediately.”
Her face looked frightened as she hesitated for a few seconds.
“Well, most commonly, they are special eyeglasses, which cause powerful visual hallucinations. Bright visions that provoke dark sexual fantasies and increase the human libido a hundredfold. They cause people to fall into the abyss of their own sexuality, making it possible for them to have up to one hundred orgasms per minute. As long as the drug is working, the patients totally forget about death as a whole, and even – to quote some of the information leaflets, ‘all the death in the world,’ since they’re obsessed with chasing after their pleasure. But these drugs are only available by prescription, and only to people who are very depressed. Most frequently, these are people who’ve lost a child. One has to be very careful with them, as they can be highly addictive. That’s it. I hope that this has made you remember. And now, please, go away,” she says.
Astounded, I continue walking down the sidewalk. At its end, there is a small, glowing table. An elderly man wearing glasses is sitting at the table and reading a newspaper. There’s an empty chair next to him. I go up to him and take a look at my watch. I still have fifteen minutes before my meeting, and the street where it’s always raining is just a few hundred feet away.
“Sir, can I sit down for a bit?” I ask.
“Of course, go right ahead,” he says and continues leafing through the paper.
Unintentionally, I start scanning the headlines. It says:
“The Chinese man, – – –, has fallen in love! Something that hasn’t happened in two hundred years! Unfortunately, this unfamiliar feeling made him so worried that he condemned himself to being unafraid of death and got into a fatal car accident that same night! The doctors will be able to revive him for an hour at most, but that should be enough to run some tests and find out how the ancient feeling arose in him!”
Elsewhere, it says:
“Psychologists have finally proven that the entire justice system’s deep motives and its idea as a whole, which have existed for thousands of years, are completely false, since they rest upon empty human delusions. Namely, the delusion that people can control or change the future and win over the evil that has already taken place. According to the studies, this is impossible, since it’s the evil of the moment that makes the world go round and this is a fixed constant.
“All efforts and means to somehow compensate for it in the future serve only to feed the human ego in an imaginary way and are thus impossible, since both the world and its people are changing constantly and at a very quick pace.
“According to our editor-in-chief, this is undoubtedly reminiscent of an idea of the great author from the end of the third millennium, – – –, ‘On an unconscious level, the idea of what’s good and moral is nothing more than an empty illusion, which weak use to people compensate for their own powerlessness in an imaginary way.’”
Next to the article, set off in a small box, I read the following headline: “Exclusive Interview with the Mother of the World’s Youngest Suicide, 4-Year-Old – – –, Who Killed Himself Yesterday, Just After his Birthday.”
“My son. He died very young, a mere child. But he died like a hero. He was barely four, but he’d hated the whole world ever since he was two. I think that deep inside, he felt as only a child could feel. Yesterday, shortly after he turned four, he went up to the roof of our apartment building, to the 12th floor. A crowd gathered below and started starting at him. He looked at it with the eyes of an adult and jumped over the railing. Then, as he fell to his death, and seemingly without a drop of fear, he put out his hand and showed everyone a vulgar, but very real gesture – his middle finger. A truly mystical death. I’ll never forget it.”
The man turns to another page. On it, it says:
“According to the contemporary sociologist – – –, the end of the world will come when people start to commit murders in the name of hope! When they realize that each death in the present eventually gets forgotten and the only way for the human soul to be purified is for the dead to outnumber the living in the present moment! The dead themselves, or the idea and memory of them, are debating on the subject!”
I take a look at my watch. It’s already time. I get up from the table.
“Goodbye, sir. Have a pleasant time of day!”
He looks at me and gives me a strange smile.
“Goodbye, and have a pleasant evening, rather!” he says, and continues his reading.
I walk quickly. Before long, I’m already at the beginning of the street where it’s always raining. It’s dark and the evening rain is swooping down on the dim lights of the street lamps. Why isn’t that woman here? I even came a little late! There’s something I’m forgetting. I think about it and I remember.
“Everything, even the end of the world, is an escape from loneliness,” I say out loud.
And then, as I look on with amazement, her mysterious ghost slowly appears at the end of the street.
October 1, 2013
MY FUTURED BOOK – front and back cover
MY FUTURED BOOK – front and back cover
“Beyond the absurd”:
http://www.pinterest.com/pin/90423904...
http://www.pinterest.com/pin/90423904...
“Beyond the absurd”:
http://www.pinterest.com/pin/90423904...
http://www.pinterest.com/pin/90423904...
July 22, 2013
The taxi
Short story from my future book: "Beyond the absurd".
Coming soon...
Lord Byron: "Truth is stranger than fiction".
I was already at the airport terminal. I had gone the road all by myself, as always. I returned from the desert, where I had had some work to do and the return flight was long and exhausting. I went out in front of the terminal and I saw it. I don't know how I decided with one look only that this was my taxi. It was a shade different than the others and I felt at once that this taxi was very special. Its dark green colour reminded me of...
„Drive me home, but before that I want to stop by another place where you will wait for me“, I told the driver as I opened the door. He was a well-dressed dignified man at an average age. He measured me with his strange look and beckoned me to get onto the passenger seat. We were already traveling on the road. The weather was a little bit cloudy and there was not much traffic. The road seemed familiar to me. At least at the beginning.
I looked at the panel in front of me.
„Excuse me, isn't your fare too expensive?“, I asked the driver.
„It is, but you know that this taxi is extremely special. It can take you absolutely everywhere and I know all the roads all around the world and even beyond it“, the driver answered politely.
„How come everywhere?“, I asked.
„It's as I say it!“
„You must be very rich with these fares.“
The driver smiled.
„It's a state taxi, sir. Everything goes into the state budget.“
I mused.
„OK, so you say everywhere. What if I want you to drive me to the end of the world? Or beyond the apocalypse? Or even beyond it?“
„No problem. But I doubt that you have so much money“, he said while he made a left turn. The road seemed more and more familiar to me.
„Has anyone asked you to drive them to such places?“
„Only once. It was a very rich and bored old man. The trip was very long, but he paid more than enough.“
„Where is he now?“
„I don't have any idea. I left him where he wanted. In the Judgment day! I haven't seen him any more after that. I myself could hardly return from there. I think he also wanted to go back, but still there isn't a man rich enough on this world who can pay me the fare to the Judgment Day and back“, the driver said, as if to himself and made a barely noticeable smile.
„You have a very interesting job. You must see a lot of things that the other people cannot see. And what is there? In the Judgment day?“, I asked and looked carefully at him.
He sighed strangely.
„Well, to some extent, it is as it is described in the Bible, and still it is a little bit different. Darkness, fires, total destruction. The living and the dead have met among the ruins somewhere at the end of time. And they celebrate the apocalypse. An eternal orgy is taking place among the destruction. It is more frightening than the hell. And it is too tense. It is not for me. I am a calm person. I prefer silence.
The road from the airport ended in the distance before us.
„I forgot to ask you. Where do you want me to stop before driving you home?“
„There is a turn off the road slightly forward. I think that was the way.“
„I know it very well, but there the fare is triple.“
I thrust my hand into my pocket and count my money. I don't have enough money.
„Isn't it too much to make it a triple fare?“, I reproach him.
He looks at me.
„You know very well that this turn leads to the world of the dead. It is not too much if you take into consideration all the nerves and this leap between the two worlds.“
„Do you often drive people there?“
„It happens, but as you see, it is too expensive. And all this money goes to the state. This is the state policy nowadays. The state budget makes large amounts of money out of taxis driving people to the world of the dead. If you ask me, it is conceived very well, because sooner or later everyone wants to go there to see some old acquaintance or a relative. Whom do you want to see?“
„Some old acquaintances who will have a small feast today in a block. It is very close, but still we will have to turn right and cross the border to get there, and I don't have enough money.“
He looks at me.
„I take your hint, but this can't affect me. Even if I wanted to help you, I couldn't have done it. The taxi is programmed so that if it turns to the world of the dead, the machine starts charging a triple fare. It is another clever thing, invented by the state.“
I grow sad. My face sinks into desperation.
„But I haven't seen these acquaintances since they died. And the only thing I know is that they will meet just today for a while in the block near the turn. I will hardly find them ever again after that.“
„I am sorry, sir, but I can't help you.“
„Do you think that if I earn money and call you again some day to drive me to the world of the dead, I will find them again?“, I asked him.
„Honestly, I don't know. The dead are a little bit unreliable. Once they meet, then they scatter and never meet again. But who knows! Why do you want so much to go there? May be it is some unfullfilled love story which death had made impossible?“He looked at me with curiosity.
„Something like that.“
„OK, I don't have enough money for you to drive me to the world of the dead, but what if I want you to drive me to some memory, for example?“
„There is no way. The fare to the memories is more expensive than that to the world of the dead,“ he said to me.
„OK, then just drive me home“, I said and leaned back on the seat.
The boulevard ends. It is already dark outside. The taxi takes some unknown roads. I am sure that I have never passed them.“
„Sir, where do you drive me? This is not the road to my home“, I told him, as I looked at the passing cars outside.
„This is the address you told me. District... block...entrance... The data is entered in the car computer. It is impossible for a mistake to be made. Besides, I drove you to the airport some weeks ago, don't you remember? Surely that's the way. In fact, we are almost there. It remains a little bit more.“
„I remember that you drove me, but we passed entirely different roads. I am convinced of that.“
„Don't be so sure, sir. Sometimes the way home looks the way we want it to be. That is the right road. Trust me. If you don't trust me, trust the computer, which is programmed by the state. I am sure that you will soon remember.“
„May be you are right.“, I lean back on the seat. I look at the cars against us and the street lamps and I grow sleepy.
I have a strange dream. I am among some Roman ruins in a dark night. Small fires burn around me. In the distance before me some ancient town can be seen in the moonlight. I am overtaken by a strong wind and a feeling of ancient times. Everything is very mystic. There is someone behind me. I turn around. It is the ghostly shadow of an old dead acquaintance of mine. I am amazed what he is doing here and why he specifically is here. The shadow approaches, raises a hand, and says before my hypnotized look:
„Memento mori“, it says and slowly points with a finger one of the small fires.
Coming soon...
Lord Byron: "Truth is stranger than fiction".
I was already at the airport terminal. I had gone the road all by myself, as always. I returned from the desert, where I had had some work to do and the return flight was long and exhausting. I went out in front of the terminal and I saw it. I don't know how I decided with one look only that this was my taxi. It was a shade different than the others and I felt at once that this taxi was very special. Its dark green colour reminded me of...
„Drive me home, but before that I want to stop by another place where you will wait for me“, I told the driver as I opened the door. He was a well-dressed dignified man at an average age. He measured me with his strange look and beckoned me to get onto the passenger seat. We were already traveling on the road. The weather was a little bit cloudy and there was not much traffic. The road seemed familiar to me. At least at the beginning.
I looked at the panel in front of me.
„Excuse me, isn't your fare too expensive?“, I asked the driver.
„It is, but you know that this taxi is extremely special. It can take you absolutely everywhere and I know all the roads all around the world and even beyond it“, the driver answered politely.
„How come everywhere?“, I asked.
„It's as I say it!“
„You must be very rich with these fares.“
The driver smiled.
„It's a state taxi, sir. Everything goes into the state budget.“
I mused.
„OK, so you say everywhere. What if I want you to drive me to the end of the world? Or beyond the apocalypse? Or even beyond it?“
„No problem. But I doubt that you have so much money“, he said while he made a left turn. The road seemed more and more familiar to me.
„Has anyone asked you to drive them to such places?“
„Only once. It was a very rich and bored old man. The trip was very long, but he paid more than enough.“
„Where is he now?“
„I don't have any idea. I left him where he wanted. In the Judgment day! I haven't seen him any more after that. I myself could hardly return from there. I think he also wanted to go back, but still there isn't a man rich enough on this world who can pay me the fare to the Judgment Day and back“, the driver said, as if to himself and made a barely noticeable smile.
„You have a very interesting job. You must see a lot of things that the other people cannot see. And what is there? In the Judgment day?“, I asked and looked carefully at him.
He sighed strangely.
„Well, to some extent, it is as it is described in the Bible, and still it is a little bit different. Darkness, fires, total destruction. The living and the dead have met among the ruins somewhere at the end of time. And they celebrate the apocalypse. An eternal orgy is taking place among the destruction. It is more frightening than the hell. And it is too tense. It is not for me. I am a calm person. I prefer silence.
The road from the airport ended in the distance before us.
„I forgot to ask you. Where do you want me to stop before driving you home?“
„There is a turn off the road slightly forward. I think that was the way.“
„I know it very well, but there the fare is triple.“
I thrust my hand into my pocket and count my money. I don't have enough money.
„Isn't it too much to make it a triple fare?“, I reproach him.
He looks at me.
„You know very well that this turn leads to the world of the dead. It is not too much if you take into consideration all the nerves and this leap between the two worlds.“
„Do you often drive people there?“
„It happens, but as you see, it is too expensive. And all this money goes to the state. This is the state policy nowadays. The state budget makes large amounts of money out of taxis driving people to the world of the dead. If you ask me, it is conceived very well, because sooner or later everyone wants to go there to see some old acquaintance or a relative. Whom do you want to see?“
„Some old acquaintances who will have a small feast today in a block. It is very close, but still we will have to turn right and cross the border to get there, and I don't have enough money.“
He looks at me.
„I take your hint, but this can't affect me. Even if I wanted to help you, I couldn't have done it. The taxi is programmed so that if it turns to the world of the dead, the machine starts charging a triple fare. It is another clever thing, invented by the state.“
I grow sad. My face sinks into desperation.
„But I haven't seen these acquaintances since they died. And the only thing I know is that they will meet just today for a while in the block near the turn. I will hardly find them ever again after that.“
„I am sorry, sir, but I can't help you.“
„Do you think that if I earn money and call you again some day to drive me to the world of the dead, I will find them again?“, I asked him.
„Honestly, I don't know. The dead are a little bit unreliable. Once they meet, then they scatter and never meet again. But who knows! Why do you want so much to go there? May be it is some unfullfilled love story which death had made impossible?“He looked at me with curiosity.
„Something like that.“
„OK, I don't have enough money for you to drive me to the world of the dead, but what if I want you to drive me to some memory, for example?“
„There is no way. The fare to the memories is more expensive than that to the world of the dead,“ he said to me.
„OK, then just drive me home“, I said and leaned back on the seat.
The boulevard ends. It is already dark outside. The taxi takes some unknown roads. I am sure that I have never passed them.“
„Sir, where do you drive me? This is not the road to my home“, I told him, as I looked at the passing cars outside.
„This is the address you told me. District... block...entrance... The data is entered in the car computer. It is impossible for a mistake to be made. Besides, I drove you to the airport some weeks ago, don't you remember? Surely that's the way. In fact, we are almost there. It remains a little bit more.“
„I remember that you drove me, but we passed entirely different roads. I am convinced of that.“
„Don't be so sure, sir. Sometimes the way home looks the way we want it to be. That is the right road. Trust me. If you don't trust me, trust the computer, which is programmed by the state. I am sure that you will soon remember.“
„May be you are right.“, I lean back on the seat. I look at the cars against us and the street lamps and I grow sleepy.
I have a strange dream. I am among some Roman ruins in a dark night. Small fires burn around me. In the distance before me some ancient town can be seen in the moonlight. I am overtaken by a strong wind and a feeling of ancient times. Everything is very mystic. There is someone behind me. I turn around. It is the ghostly shadow of an old dead acquaintance of mine. I am amazed what he is doing here and why he specifically is here. The shadow approaches, raises a hand, and says before my hypnotized look:
„Memento mori“, it says and slowly points with a finger one of the small fires.
June 10, 2013
MY CINEMA
Dark mind movies
Some stories from my books made into movies
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=...
Future Gone
Unexpected Tales from the Ends of the Earth
Some stories from my books made into movies
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=...
Future Gone
Unexpected Tales from the Ends of the Earth
May 20, 2013
TOMOVJUNIOR.COM
For all people interested about eternal questions of life, check my website. You're welcome to join!:
http://tomovjunior.webs.com/
http://tomovjunior.webs.com/
March 13, 2013
March 3, 2013
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