Part 1 The telemarketer - Glimpse VI

Flying above a green vastness and beneath an endless grey, the sky was dark that day, yet the forest looked fresher than any he had ever seen before.

The cold air caused him no pain as it was hitting his face, but he could feel the drag on his arms, and before he could convince himself he was dreaming again, a huge gaping hole had arrived underneath him, like the fossilized mouth of some ancient leviathan.

He flew around the rim, thinking it may be some sort of dead volcano. The hole seemed bottomless, tar black and indifferent. And eventually he landed where he saw a town, hanging from its edge, ornate as an indian balcony.

The streets were well lit by lamps, bathing everything in warm light and joyful music that could be heard in the distance. The smell of fried onions and stew came from one of the deserted streets, and so he followed the smell, walking slowly on the pavement, climbing stairs, all the while following the delicious scent.

When he arrived at the restaurant two oriental looking locals were seated at a table, laughing, joking in their own tongue, they looked like they had been part of the scenery forever.

He peered through the door and saw many east asian cooks. They were roasting juicy pigs and ducks, seafood and more, strangely the sight didn’t make him hungry, the smell was missing, he could only vaguely remember it.

When he turned around he noticed a woman was there too, she was plain looking and east European like him, writing away at something while reading from a book. The two local men were dressed in white and drinking a black tea from hourglass shaped glasses. They seemed so happy he did not dare interrupt them. 

He could faintly remember what he was here for. “Yes, the treasure”, he whispered to himself while looking at his hands and then his legs, he had recognized his adventure’s clothing.

The sky broke and sunlight drenched the town in a pale light. The houses may have been made of clay or mud, he could not tell, but all the red and yellow flowers hanging from their stained windows made for a colorful site. 

He looked around to see the old street, the buildings had been made of yellow sandstone he remembered. He knew when visiting as a tourist you should always know the way you went so you can come back, but the restaurant street had disappeared. The little plaza at the intersection of alleys, the tables and chairs and customers there, all had disappeared as well and now blue painted houses behind him like blue streets in front of him, that was all surrounding him now.

“I should return to the edge, then I’ll find by bearings again”. He decided, and so he walked the empty and dead silent streets, that sloped down and up. The adventurer could now see a turquoise sea from atop the hill he arrived at, and the town seemed to spread out much more than he remembered.

He felt more lost than ever, but the houses looked empty, so he pressed on to what he thought was the edge, closer to the light, he could feel a cold darkness behind him, so he dared not turn around, lest some creature bite him again. He felt the eyes of that skeletal monster watching him again. He hated that dream because it frightened him so. Thus, he pushed the memory away from his mind, walking into the warm sun, he felt safe there and he could even smell the sea.

At last he arrived at a great domed structure with many white towers filled with seagulls perched on its rusted copper roofing. And while admiring it he heard a bizarre noise, so he turned quickly only to notice it was just a seagull stealing a piece of old pizza from a one of the trash bags piled next to a public trash can.

The residents must have thrown their trash into the public area he thought. So, he looked at the nearest door only to see it had a little dingy communist flag hanging from its corner. "Stupid dream”. He mused, looking at the yellow hammer and sickle crossed on a red field. “I want to dream more food”, he thought, “a drink would be great too”.

He continued walking toward the great, white building. "If anybody was in this town, that looks like the place they would be in", he figured. Yet for all his walking he was rewarded with more silence and loneliness. Red carpets covered the floor and only empty shoes showed evidence that people had been there recently. A pair of yellow tennis shoes caught his eye, they stood out against the many brown sandals.

After traversing the inside of the building a vast library laid before him, the mahogany wood contrasted pleasantly against the pale walls and as he got deeper inside the ceiling seemed to come closer as well until the vast cavernous dome was no bigger than his old college amphitheater.

By the time he reached a little conservatory alcove, the room had shrunk to no bigger than his own, waking life, room. There he saw a leather couch overlooking a sunny rose garden. There was a marble stone woman sitting on the couch, looking outside the window while all the bookcases surrounded the area like guardsmen,  silently standing at her beck and call, waiting to serve.

She had a gold statue next to her, standing on a round table. “That’s the treasure!”, he thought, and went to grab it, eager to leave the exhausting maze.

But he walked no more than three steps with the treasured prize in his hands, because the gold started to melt and creep up his arms, binding them. The weight of it hanged so heavy he fell to his knees lest his back give in first.

“It’s alright”, the marble statue whispered in his ear. You can rest now. He felt a cold and hard hand on his back, comforting him, yet he panicked even more. He struggled to remove the animated gold from him, only spreading it further up his chest.

“Will you tell me a story?” She asked, remaining just out of his field of view, no matter how much he tried to turn.

“I fulfilled your old wish. Remember? No pain, yes? So easy.” Her words made him gasp for air, trying to yell, he couldn’t, and he was getting even more constrained by the gold, by her stony embrace, his heart racing, sweating, struggling.

“Shhhhh!” She whispered softly, warmly. “Won’t take long”.