Book Category: Book Translations

My Birthday

Coming home late, well in the dark of the night, Pia and Dimitri who had been anxiously waiting for her are very upset. They were worried not knowing where she had gone. She understands, their worries were not unreasonable. But as she tries to explain to them that she wanted to leave, this is met with disdain. Dimitri accuses her of being ungrateful and selfish.

“What do you want? Don’t you have everything you need?” he asks reproachfully.

She feels misunderstood and it makes her somewhat angry. She reacts defensively: “Give me one good reason why I should not leave! People are disappearing all the time for no reason; their coming and going is controlled by the Unknown, and nobody knows really anything! And I should not leave, voluntarily, that is? This is a game I don’t want to play. I am not a puppet! Don’t you see, it makes everyone to puppets?”

Pia starts to cry. Dimitri is outraged: “Shut up,” he shouts. “There we do everything for you and what do we get in return? It is all about you, you! You ungrateful ruthless bitch! You don’t care about anyone else!” pointing at Pia, he continues: “Isn’t it enough that we just lost our dear friends? And now you come along with all that rubbish of wanting to leave, being puppets and what not! How dare you to judge us! You have not even been here long enough to know it all. What would you know better than we do!?”

He was unfortunately not that far of the mark. She does not know, and she cannot argue. But he is wrong about her and he does not know what she knows. She came into their world because she stumbled into it, looking for shelter or rescue from nature’s fury. This house was the only thing offering just that. There was nobody telling her anything or having her sent to them, not as far as she can recall her recent experiences.

She therefore responds determined to make her point, raising her voice to make sure she is heard: “I was never allocated to you! I entered the house on my own will and your door was open, that’s how I came to you. And yes you have taken me in and looked after me. I am very grateful for that, but nobody sent me to you! That would mean somebody had rights over me or could dictate my life! That is truly unfathomable! You consider that as reasonable or fair? No! No! Nobody can, or has a right over or above me!” She stops for a moment in search of reassurance within herself, because lacking long term memory it sure leaves doubts about the events that got her into these situations in the first place. This damn brain letting her down without mercy! Ah, so what! She needs to stick to the things she knows now and that is it. Defiantly she continues: “If I want to go, I go. I don’t let myself be ordered around, and definitely not the way you treat me now!”

“Let’s see about that!” He roars and moves in on her as if he was going to hit her.

Femina is ready to strike back should he dare but Pia jumps between them. Putting herself up as physical barrier, she demands that they sit down immediately. “Are you both crazy? No physical altercation under my roof! Since when does that solve anything! Both of you, sit down! Now! And let us talk about it!” Her voice is sharp and she looks so determined that Femina is tempted to laugh about the paradox at hand. Pia looks as if she was ready to lash out herself if she were forced to.

Of course, neither Dimitri nor she want to challenge Pia and so they sit down as told. There is some cooling silence. Femina feels uneasy with a sense of having to be careful if not vigilant though she does not know why. Besides, she is too fond of them. She does not want to offend or hurt them either. To appease she starts:

“I feel sorry if I disappoint you. I should have talked to you about some things much earlier instead now where all of us struggle with our emotions. You see, I wanted to ask you for some time what you know about the house and its strange arrangement regarding the doors. The entrance door has been removed and replaced by a plain wall, and the exit door does not open. It seems to be automatically operated, but by whom? Or do you know how to open it? Please understand, I don’t want to leave you. I’d rather have you coming with me. But that is not for me to decide. You see, I have come to the conclusion that I am in the wrong place. I consider it a questionable life when the system is deceiving and filled with hypocrisy and an obscure decree or arbitrariness. I rather move on. But I assure you it would make me more than happy if you came with me.”

“What are you talking about?” asks Dimitri gloomy. “What house? What doors that disappear or cannot be opened? We don’t know anything about it, never heard of such a thing!” He looks at Pia who nods affirmatively.

“And what do you mean we should go with you? Where to?” he continues. “We have no reason to go anywhere. We are very content just where we are. Besides, everyone knows that people are just people; and it was always the case of them coming and going. It is necessary; otherwise the population numbers would be compromised with either too many or too few to sustain our way of life. Even as we mourn, the departure is a preventive measure that serves all.  H o w  that is regulated is another issue, and yes, it gives rise to different opinions as you know by now. But it is out of the question to leave such power to people because they   are no saints and therefore cannot be trusted to do it right. As far as Pia, I and some others are concerned, we don’t believe that anyone yields this power. We believe it is life itself that regulates, fate it is. But whatever we believe, a system is absolute necessary, otherwise there would be chaos, – and murder and slaughter if everybody could do as he wants!” He ends categorically.

Femina says no more. What could she say? That by all means everybody should be doing what they want to do! She does not believe humans are by nature murderers and only evil, and some will be it, no matter what system is in place. She knows nobody who would kill voluntarily nor on order, only when there is no other choice! But without her full brain capacity she cannot argue much more. However, she can and is willing to accept his views. Sadly, he cannot do the same with her’s. He does not even consider her reality as a different possibility. For him it does not exist. And as it looks, neither for Pia.”

“How is it then possible to enter from your house into the other I was talking about, there where the exit door is?” She asks subdued.

Both look at her, bewildered. “You must be dreaming when you are retreating into your room!” he says.

“And how do you explain the people’s coming and going? Where do they come from, where do they go?”

“This we do not know,” he says, “we are not omniscient. People, animals have capabilities, they don’t have omniscience! And we accept that. Life is a mystery!”

“And miraculous!” adds Pia. Both obviously agree with each other.

Femina is deeply affected. A void has opened that is as much frightening as it is disappointing. She has nothing left to take exception to.

Pia picks up the conversation: “Dear, if you really need to leave us then go. But I don’t understand why you should be unhappy with us. You weren’t so far. And we love you dearly. Besides, where do you want to go? Of course, you cannot leave the state yet, except with us and, we have neither the money nor the time for travelling. But we have friends in other towns and we could arrange for you to live with one of them.”

Femina’s attention had been drifting away. Only slowly does she comprehend what Pia was saying. Carefully she answers: “It really has little to do with you two. You are my best friends, I sure love you too. Another town would not be the solution. With leaving I mean truly leaving to somewhere far, far away. It does not matter where particularly, just far away from here. By the way! What do you mean I cannot travel?”

Pia hesitates. Looking at Dimitri she falls silent. He then answers instead and his voice is dark and solemn:

“You have to obtain permission from council, but you have not been here long enough that it would be granted. Until then you have to remain with us under our supervision. We are responsible for you. If you left or would run away they would issue a search warrant to find you, and we would be sent to jail. You would be captured for sure and then placed in a safe-house until council decides your release. We have no decision making power, we only have an advisory role but it is our duty to keep you well in our care and if you run away, we have obviously failed and that is punishable by jail. If you want to leave now, it is either with us or with our permission under someone else’s supervision that we need to arrange. Otherwise you would be classified as a fugitive and you, we, would be punished.”

Femina is beside herself looking at them in disbelief. Dimitri gets up and fetches documents from a drawer of his desk. He flings them in front of her and sits down again without further comment. She takes one sheet after the other carefully reading them. She shoves the read ones far away from her as if she wanted to distance herself from them as much as from that what she read. There it was in black and white: She has no right to go anywhere without permission from Dimitri and Pia and council’s stamp of approval. Even their travelling together outside the territory had to be approved and was clearly a regulated travel arrangement rather than an impromptu affair with a free itinerary and no time restraints.

Femina feels as if the world had come to a stand-still including her. She is stunned. The unthinkable has turned out to be officially verified. Her suspicions became fact. Her mistrust has been substantiated. She is imprisoned, she is a puppet just as everybody else and she has to accept this reality and the consequences that come with it. It means, as long as she is caught in this predicament she has to adjust, obey, and make sure she does not dance to a different tune other than the officially sanctioned in order not to jeopardize her release from the leash she is on, and to prevent any harm being done to Dimitri and Pia. She will have to endure ongoing brain-washing which will be difficult to shed if exposed for who knows how long. This is truly criminal! This is a criminal society! Naturally, the jailer and the prisoner are victims of the same thing, but it does not excuse nor condone either to champion such a system.

Femina feels a time-bomb has started ticking within her. She makes a pact with herself. As she will unquestionably have to make compromises, she will not be assimilated without question. She will be a subversive element, the sand corn in the gearbox and her work starts at once, as resistance fighter in the underground. She has however doubts that even gaining her independence whenever it will be is the code for the automatic exit door. These are two different realities she is dealing with despite appearing at present to be one and the same. Under no circumstances can she allow her mind to follow only one direction or be one-sided, this way, or the other. It would literally be a dead end road either way.

Naturally, her character becomes belligerent. But despite all the problems she causes her friends remain supportive of her, Pia more so than Dimitri, of course. She and he argue constantly. Indeed they are the prize-fighters battling it out in their private arena. If it was not for Pia she would not have a chance to survive.  They fight about principles and Dimitri is the heavy weight. It is not easy for Pia to keep peace nor to mediate, but it is not easy for any of them as the battles can be hurtful indeed.

It is actually quite a relief when Dimitri insists to enroll her into an education center, though at his choice. It has an excellent curriculum with a high scoring reputation but it is also one of the most politically conservative and draconian institutions of its kind. Generally, all education centers are one-dimensional teaching facilities and she does not like any of them, but the one chosen by Dimitri tops them all. She is offended by his insistence that his choice was due to give her the best education available because she knows it is also an attempt to break down her defiance. And it is exactly defiance that prompts her to take on the challenge. But with putting on the house’s uniform the drill and psychological horror begin to unfold so merciless that she cries herself to sleep more often than not. This center is run like a military facility. To break the rules means physical punishment and the cruelty is enhanced by suppressing anything emotional. Only the strong is valued, the weak is eradicated and the cruelty does not just come from above it is echoed amongst the disciples as well. Despite her initial efforts after some time she finds nothing is to be gained by being there. She is not even intellectually inspired or challenged to make it worth the while. The end product would be brilliance in the doctrine and that type of education does not interest her enough to put up with the personal torture. Something has to change! Well, it is her that brings on the change. As she is physically and mentally well-equipped showing promise for another well molded end product she has some firm base she can operate from. She plays by the rules alright but now she enters the offensive on a subtle level. She seeks out the weaknesses of anyone she dislikes exposing them in public with cynical criticism leaving the victim cringe and rather defenseless because being ridiculed any counter attack would make things worse for them. Vanity, she finds is a gold mine and she is good at digging it up. The lecturers get frustrated with her soon enough and one day it escalates to a sinister event. Physical punishment! So far she had been able to avoid any of these practices being used on her, but now a teacher wants to punish her. Physically!!! She made the big mistake to challenge her being alone with her in her room to where she was called for some reprimand. But now she wants to hit her. Femina jolts backwards and runs around the desk to get out of the fury’s way, eying for the door and the opportunity to leave. Her attacker is after her and the chase goes around the desk a few times as she would not be quick enough to reach the door unscathed. She sure has an advantage, being younger and fitter than her opponent, who is obese and puffing already with a dangerously red face and bulging eyes. The merry-go-round can go on forever as far as she is concerned, but the other one might collapse and the situation is not good for either of them. Finally the other one gives up, sinking into her chair, screaming, that Femina will regret her attitude and will pay for this, etc.etc. She does not listen to it any longer, just running out the door and in fact she keeps running, leaving the center altogether to never return.

Management decided that they would give her another chance if she apologized or it would be better for her to seek education elsewhere. Dimitri was not given a choice, because she was certainly not going to co-operate and so she could leave the place of horror behind her.

Of course, becoming a student of a public center was no ‘plain sailing’ either. “Wipe off your war paint” a lecturer told her this morning. Stupid person! Does she tell her that she looks like a scare-crow and that she better hide herself not to scare the children? Scare-crow does not even give interesting lectures but with matters that are of no significance or importance she concerns herself in demonstration of power she does not own! Igitt! It makes her puke. “Sorry”, she said to her, “but I wish to explain; this is no war paint. It is called cosmetic and I use it because I like it, not because you might like it!” Naturally, she just made herself another enemy.

Indeed! She has not been making any friends since her arrival though she tried, initially more so than now. She has lots of acquaintances, but friends, no. Her attempts usually ended in disappointments, and again and again it proved that Pia and Dimitri remained the only ones she could or would trust. Even though the relationship with Dimitri was like a minefield, she knew at least what to expect and what not. Besides, she could see at times that he actually agreed with her. Secretly! He would never admit it though. He would rather give in but not give up. He is officially, strictly speaking, a representative of this ‘World of Lies’ but has deep inside him hidden away his own doubts. Unfortunately, that is the dike she cannot bridge. She has become tired trying and wants to put an end to it by actually finding her own place to live. Dimitri did not want to let go of his control and was initially very resistant to the idea, but with Pia’s support there was some chance that he would change his mind. Then they had a big fight again starting with the issue of her wish to move out. It ended with Dimitri being so angry that he finally kicked her out not just giving her permission to leave.

“It can’t be much longer anyway that council will relieve us from the overall responsibility for you. But you can get lost right now! Do as you want but don’t expect any help from me. You shall see how far it gets you. You will sooner than later realize that you bang your head at the wall for nothing. I definitely have enough of you. I don’t want you to be still here when I come back home!”

With these words he leaves her, and Pia, slamming the door shut behind him loud enough to wake the dead.

“I don’t understand him,” says Pia lamenting. But she actually never did. “How can he be like that?” she asks perplexed. Femina shrugs her shoulders. He always was like that, at least since she came to know him.

Since she arrived, after a short honey-moon period, all three of them had their hopes and expectations ending in frustration and disappointments. Femina must admit, lots of it was her fault. Or is she to blame for everything? She feels guilty all the same. Now that is it! Finally it has been achieved,  –  she begins doubting herself. All this unhappiness, her fault? All this fighting, her fault? And why? Because she cannot accept what is? Did she ever have a life before this one anyway? Maybe it was all just as Dimitri said and she wasted all her time to make herself and her friends miserable. Happiness? When was the last time that she was happy? When was the last time that she made someone else happy?

She pulls herself together. It is high time! She has to leave! Now! Without delay! Otherwise she may be subdued after all.

Pia packs some food for her and gives her some money as well. Both feel deep sadness as they say their good byes because it is a step on to a road she does not know and Pia cannot follow. But it has to be that way, because her loyalty belongs to Dimitri and Femina is rather unhappy on her own than dragging her friends down with her any longer.

Femina does not find it difficult to find her way and adjust to this new world after having learnt the language. Besides, she loves the opportunity to feed her brain with all this new information. She enjoys it so much that she becomes negligent towards her original intention to search for her lost memory. The amnesia has not lifted but there are so many new things that vie for a place in her brain that the old cannot compete, particularly as it gives her more grief than pleasure searching for it. But change is on its way.

Slowly and unnoticeable fine cracks appeared in her blissful state of mind. It was nobody’s fault just an inevitable development. Not all memory had gone! That became always apparent when her customary opinions collided with that of the external world and its people. Initially the incidents were so subtle that she did not pay attention, but as they became too often and recurrent her suspicion grew. After all she had to acknowledge that she could not really trust this new world. More and more she believed this world to be one of deception and illusion. Too many people spoke differently than they thought or they pretended to be something they weren’t, or they insisted to know something when they didn’t, even when they clearly had no idea. Indeed, the only ones she could trust were her immediate friends. Not that she had many!

And then something outrageous happened. Dimitri and Pia brought the message being distraught themselves. Their closest friends, the elderly couple had disappeared, suddenly, without a trace, without a warning or Good Bye, without a clue where to or why they had gone.

Femina hurries along. She is on the way to the little pond that lies peacefully in the surrounding hills close to their house. Rarely anyone gets up there particularly not on a working day. It is therefore just the right place to retreat to in order to think and settle her thoughts. There had been enough talking and Dimitri is also busy consoling Pia. Femina is sad as well but more so confused. Lies! Lies! Hypocrisy! Nothing makes sense! She should have been thinking all along not only now! But had she been interested? No! She had only been interested in filling her belly!

Arriving at the little bench that offers a particular idyllic view over the pond she sits down, breathless but relieved. Here, the world is still intact.                 It just is not reasonable that people can suddenly disappear without a trace and nobody knows why. Two of their best friends have evaporated and nobody asks questions or wants to find out?! They are mourned, yes. Pia’s eyes are filled with tears and overflowing, but that is it?! Femina carried on asking questions but was answered more often than not in well-rehearsed and stereotyped manner. Even the ones who earnestly tried to oblige, ended up shrugging helplessly their shoulders, including Pia and Dimitri.

She picks up a flat stone throwing it over the water. It pebbles twice before it sinks. She sure is angry. Do they want to pull the hood over her eyes? There is a reason for everything and if not then one searches for it! But what did Dimitri say? “People come and people go. The same was applicable to her.” Indeed, she has never considered her appearance this way.

“But you have expected me, didn’t you? You   m  u  s  t   have known something!” She insisted.

“We have applied and you were allocated to us.”

That was no explanation! She was not satisfied.

“Who or what allocates? Who is or has this power to give and take?”

As far as she knows, she has not been sent like a parcel to anyone ever. Even with the big hole in her brain there is no way that she was ever a slave to anyone. Her whole body revolts against such a suggestion. Besides, that is not consistent with the events as she remembers it, having no problems with the recent memory.

They could not provide much more information. Shaking their heads and shrugging their shoulders, their answer was one word, “fate”, who or whatever that is.

And what did others have to say? They babbled about an all-powerful superman who knows and can do anything. He manages everything, of course, and people are his subjects, obediently, of course. Femina’s question was then immediately, why was he doing this in secrecy, what did he have to hide this super-duper power-wielder? It was met with disdain. They called her impudent and brazen and much worse. Someone had a better version on offer which she was keen to hear. ‘The great Potentator had many names and he was ever-present. One could see him everywhere if you knew what to look for’. Well, that was not really much better! “And why does nobody see him then?” She kept prodding. “Who has actually seen him?”

“Chosen ones,” was the reply

“And who chooses? Him again?” She insisted though becoming rather dismayed.

The other shook his head: “No, No! Lottery! The right Number and you are in.” He considered that an absolute fair system.

Femina throws another stone. It bounces full three times, sinking only at the forth. The fact is, her friends are gone and she will never see them again. This finality has no mercy as no consolation can be found within. It means nothing will ever be the same and only time will heal the wound. It now is also certain that she cannot believe what people tell her. There is even some reservation towards Dimitri and Pia, though she still trusts them more than anybody else. She feels utterly miserable and alone. She sighs. There is nothing she can do, made worse by the fact of having amnesia, no concrete memory. They can tell her whatever, true or not. She finds the Lottery solution reasonably suitable, and “fate and chance” the best answers among all the nonsense she heard. She feels more compelled than ever to find her memory. Only then will she be able to argue her point or provide evidence. Hopefully! But maybe it is her brain after all making fun of her. Maybe what is now, is all there is? Her thoughts run in circles. She is their victim. No wonder that she feels sick. How can she solve riddles when there is no clue and nobody who helps! To know one’s name is not the revelation either isn’t it? Instead finding answers to her own problems, new questions arise. And she cannot answer either or do something about it.

Her gaze glides over the smooth mirror-like surface of the water. The pond is so beautiful, fringed by reed and carrying bright glowing water lilies. Fish bustle about in his milky green water being rich in plankton. The ground is partially covered by grasses and climbing plants which can grow high and scare bathers like her. She was once caught by them and it was not a nice feeling. It felt like long thin arms tried grabbing her to pull her down into an unknown abyss. Since, she knows the pond well, knows where to swim and where not. But the plants would take over if they were not cleared once a year. Without them the pond looks naked, sure not as pretty as now with much of the green cloth striving to make up for a cut some time ago.

She takes off her clothes except the underwear, walks down to the water and dives in. She swims to the other side where there is a small rock sticking its head out of the water and where it is beautiful to sit surrounded by reed and, hidden from curious eyes. She pulls herself on to it making herself comfortable and letting the warm sun dry and caress her. She can see the creepers striving towards the surface. They are still well below, but she can see their heads swing softly in the underwater current, to and fro, and to and fro. She closes her eyes, swaying with them, it is like a lullaby.

 

Brrr!  How cold it suddenly is! Shivering she looks up. There it is again, the long hallway. The dreary lamps hanging from the ceiling swing softly in a draught and the stone floor is as ever smooth and cold. She gets up, hurries down the hallway. To the left and right are doors, none open, but that is of no interest to her at all. She is after something else. Having been able to enter the house there ought to be a way out! That’s what she wants. She wants to leave the house. And indeed, she finds what she is looking for. From the end of the corridor gleams a plate. In red letters on mellow white ground it says “ E X I T ”. The lamp inside its container is as tired as the rest in the hallway. It is far too weak, to make it visible from the other end. Unfortunately it also turns out very quickly that she is not able to leave despite having found a door marked as an exit. The door itself is impressive, big and wide and shiny, made of steel. It has no handle, no lock, no button or knob nor another gadget on it or on the neighboring walls. In the middle runs a vertical fissure. Obviously, this is one of the automated doors with wings that slide apart into the cavities of the adjacent walls when triggered either by movement sensors or remote control. She can try as much as she wants and she sure tries hard, she cannot get it to open. Disappointed she gives up but she is still relieved to have found an exit after all. She is confident that she will find out the rest.

The floor plan of the house seems to be a  T  . The two corridors, one to the right the other to the left, show windows on both sides of the exit door while more doors are apparent on the internal walls. The windows big and wide and high, have frosted glass covered by a lettuce built from small metal bars. One can neither look outside, nor break the windows and the corridors end in plain walls, ending Femina’s hope to find an emergency exit.

She returns to the steel door, lets herself down on the opposite wall. She stares at the smooth matt shiny surface. Despondency wells up in her. Whichever way she looks she is trapped. What she once perceived as rescue ended up as a trap. Damn it! It is so unfair! She already had been closer to death than life, couldn’t she die there and then instead crawling on only to become a prisoner? And to make matters worse, one with amnesia and loss of important memory! Whatever is left of her memory is sure only due to being anchored in instinct therefore expressing itself habitually as part of her character and inherent traits!

She tries again to concentrate, dive deep down into the crevices of her brain, to search in all the folds and layers for something useful in storage from the past. But no matter how hard she digs, nothing comes to light. She gives up. It makes more sense to concentrate on the present instead of wasting more time on a search of the past, at least for now.

Her suspicions have now been confirmed. She has landed in a highly questionable world. What name can she give to such a place? Her thoughts immediately start another merry go round. Ph! She can even hear them whirring. Her rational calls for order. ‘Be cool’, she tells herself softly. Neither mind nor body have a reason to exaggerate. So what! Sitting in a trap, what does it mean? She was not suffering, not until now anyway. And now it has only been confirmed that, what is, differs from what she expected it to be. The same applies to everything else she has experienced in this house so far. All has shown to be two-sided and ambiguous. On the one hand it is a world of chimera and illusion on the other hand a world of deception and lies. Its reality is therefore neither unequivocal nor absolute.

Or is it really possible that what is, is all there is? Maybe she is in fact the illusionist. Well then she landed in a circus! That makes her smile. She loves the circus. She likes particularly the clowns because they make people laugh. It is something she cherishes most. But she admires the tightrope-walker because they are masters of balance. Something she desperately needs now!

Well, she concludes, to give this world a name is not that important. She deals with illusion this or the other way. What does it matter if the whole world lies to her? That truly does not matter at all. But what matters is that she does not lie to herself; that she does not mistake illusion for truth and most importantly, that she does not doubt herself which is under given circumstances probably the hardest of all. Particularly if she has to stay here for a while it may get even harder.

One thing she will not be able to avoid, that is to stand up for what she believes is just and true. With that she faces a dilemma because confrontations are a natural consequence of speaking up and speaking out. It means, there will be sad times and hard times and lots of pain, not only for her. She does not like to see any one suffer, nor does she like to play hero. She prefers to leave instead. It sure would be better, if she could leave this house sooner than later. Hence, her decision is made.

It leaves her with nothing more to deal with but grief. She is mourning the loss of her dear friends. They were good-hearted people, they helped always where it was needed. They always helped her. She will miss them badly and she will never forget them if she can help it. It is impossible to describe in words what she feels. True grief is fathomless. A song comes to her mind that they have sung to her on many occasions and ever so often to her delight:

 

She has seen many sunrises, many days and nights have passed. Nothing has ever changed. She is a dot in the wide open plain. The rocks have long been left behind. Above her was always a cloudless blue sky. But today she believes there is some change in the color. It is very subtle, just a tinge of green. Then again it may not be. But there is also something in the far distance, an unevenness on an otherwise flat ground. A wave of excitement runs through her body. Presentiment, – something could happen! She keeps walking. No point to stop as she is not tired. However, there is also some trepidation though she has no explanation why that should be. She lets logic do its work. She sure has nothing to lose, she can only win, whichever way she assesses her situation. With this her thoughts can pleasure themselves instead troubling her body or even stopping his trek. For a while they happily indulge but not controlling the thoughts ends as usual. They come back full circle. So she decides after all to concentrate on the steps she takes and on the ground beneath her. May be she finds today something new, a rare plant or the trace of an animal or insect, anything that points to evidence that she is not really alone. So far she has never discovered more than the dried out grasses scattered in clumps like little atolls in an open ocean. These poor things have shut down life to the bare minimum in order to survive. Yes there is life besides her, but it is in hibernation, waiting for a change, just like her.

After a while she suddenly feels the air moving. A soft breeze touches her here and there. That truly is extraordinary. Until now the stillness around her had been so complete, it included air itself. She takes her gaze off the ground looking up and around she discovers a little white cloud in a now turquoise sky. Her heart takes a leap in excitement. Oh poor soul! The fulfilment of wishes only brings new desires. It opens the gates for a pain of another kind than the body knows.

The little cloud in the sky does not stay alone for long. Others appear. Wind pushes them along as more and more join. A wild chase begins. It seems they want to outrun the wind racing from the open sky to the edge of the horizon. There they form massive mountains losing their innocent white as they grow. Big arms of grey cloud reach after the sun and swallow him with all his warmth and all his light. Even the wind stopped breathing and moving the air. The clouds turn dark, in places they appear nearly black. They close up to a thick blanket covering the sky from one end to the other, from which they let their big bellies hang down to earth below. Now and then, here and there between them she sees sheet-lighting. The stillness around her is thick and so is the air. She hurries along, faster than ever. May be that something she thought to have seen in the distance was offering some help, some protection, but to get there in time was really more like self-deception than realistic hope. And so it was. The wind returned soon after. This time with fury as if he had been angered that before he could not get his way. Howling he sweeps up dust and grasses, nothing can stop him, because there is nothing, neither tree, nor bush, nor anything else.

As he got stronger and stronger, her walking became slower and slower. His gusts are so forceful and attack her now from all sides that any attempt to fight them is useless. She seems to have become their ball in a rough game. The sky is so dark that one could think night has returned. And then the lightning starts and with it the thunder with an overwhelming noise. As one lightning bolt follows the other there is no break in the rumbling and cracking and ear-piercing bangs. The darkness is lit up by white veins as the white fire bolts cast from heaven are split up and torn apart by the force they carry within and which wants to break free.

When the lightning began she stopped walking, lying down to the ground as flat as she could. She is trembling with fear. The first thick raindrops splash down on her and then the heavy clouds release their load, rain falling so thick that earth becomes saturates nearly instantly turning the ground to mud. Big puddles form and channels with water rush away to who knows where. She digs herself deeper into the mud as it offers her the best protection though breathing is difficult with so much water pouring down and whipping up soggy earth.  Her strength seems to leave her but so does her fear. She has to give in, she has to give up. There is nothing she can do. Neither can she tell the lightening to stop this ear shattering noise nor can she order the thunder to give away his white fire. And surely the storm will not listen to her plea to give up belting her with the fierce water whip. But the rain is the worst of all as the drops have turned to ice. She tries as good as she can to protect her head with her arms. With her heart pounding she let go of her will and le the senses stupefy her. As the sensations dissipate everything becomes lighter. She starts dreaming. She has reached the state of semi consciousness where reality still weaves a pattern but the demands end. This state is quite soothing. No longer responsibilities, nor more troubling consequences, – like this one can hang on to life, or die without fear. It is fair to say, there really was nothing she could do. She just had to surrender.

Wild dreams take possession of her and she loses access to her rational mind. She can no longer discern between dream and reality and has no longer a relationship with time.

When she regains consciousness waking from the dreams, they escape into forgetfulness as most dreams do, no matter how bizarre they may have been. She still has the roar of the storm in her ears without the storm being present. It appears that she has once again woken in a place she does not know and neither how she arrived. However, this time she is not quite as lost, is able to put events together, using memory and guessing the rest. Besides there is also evidence to support her thoughts. She leans with her back against a big door with the rain still drumming outside on its wooden panels. Somehow she must have carried on walking after the worst of the storm was over in the hope to find rescue and so it seems she did. She would have kept in the direction of the oddity in the horizon’s formation that hinted at a useful chance. How she ever made the distance that is not clear to her. It must have been more crawling than walking because she remembers very well that the dry earth had become mud. She looks down on her and there it is, she is covered in it, hair and all. But she is safe now, or so it seems. She is inside a house. Or maybe, it is still a deception, may be it is still a dream? May be it is not even anything safe if it was real! She stops the mind to be too critical. There is no place for that now, because she was closer to death than life and if she is dreaming she can’t be dead yet. She has never heard of dead people dreaming!

She gazes along a long and generously wide corridor that is lit by naked light bulbs hanging from a high ceiling. They swing softly in a drought which must come in through some open doors or windows. There are plenty of doors both sides of the white walls. She stands on cold stone tiles of smooth surface grey and square. No surprise that she shivers feeling chilly all over. It confirms to her that she is not dreaming either but she is mystified. This is not just a house, it is too big and because the lamps don’t spend bright light she does not see the end of the corridor or hallway either. So, she has survived, has even found shelter and as it seems even other people because she hears voices and noises coming from an open door not far from where she stands. She helps herself along the wall to the door, leaning against the frame she looks into a room, not entering yet, just wanting to find out what was going on. It is a simple room. In one corner stands a bed made up with fresh white linen sheets and cover, in the other corner is a big tub of wood half filled with steaming water. In the middle of the room are a wooden table and chairs. An older woman is busy to fill the tub with water, carrying buckets of it from an adjacent room. A younger woman places dishes and foods on to the table and all the while they do their jaws they have a bit of a chat.

When the older woman sees the stranger in the doorway she yells out more in surprise than fear. Both women immediately drop what they were doing and run to the newcomer, in fact just in time, because she sways and can hardly keep herself standing. The young one wraps her arms around the new-comer to help her into the room and talks to her excitedly without expecting an answer. That would have been pointless anyway, because they speak a different language.

Both are very concerned about her. They get her straight into the tub, wash her, rub her dry and give her fresh cloths. They also want her to eat but that is too much for her, she can only have something to drink before they get her to bed. A man arrives to give her a check-up and is satisfied nodding approvingly while talking to the women, then the man and the older woman leave. The young one sits down at her bedside, chatting on happily, stroking lovingly over her hair and cheeks and does not care that the conversation is one-sided. It does not matter to the one in bed either, because she is too tired to care and because the foreign language flows softly and sweet. It is a lullaby that carries her gently into a long and deep sleep.

It takes days before she recovers but she is well looked after lacking in nothing. They give her a name, calling her ‘Gerlim’. How ridiculous!

“My name is not Gerlim!!!” she protests fiercely. “My name is Femina!!!!!

She is silenced by a sudden jolt of high voltage electricity running hot right through her body. She could jump higher than the highest mountain in sheer joy and delight. ‘She knows her name again! She knows who she is!’

Now it does not matter that nobody understands her language and why she had to protest. It does not even matter what they call her for the time being at least. All that matters is what she knows giving her great hope that her memory is not lost but buried and there is a chance to retrieve it.

With every new day she feels better and better. It does not trouble her any longer to be a stranger. There are plenty of emotions and feelings that help her to understand others and learn customs and best of all establish relationships. It is only a question of time to know everything she needs or wants to know. She feels particularly close to the young woman who took care of her from the beginning. They don’t need words to laugh and talk with each other, though of course they may not always laugh exactly about the same thing. Her name is Pia, a pretty name and very fitting. She herself has made peace with ‘Gerlim’ if that is what they want to call her. It is for the sake of making life easier, something that is applicable to language itself and sure a reason why they developed in the first place. Therefore she pays all her attention to it, learning fast. Soon she is good at it, but she prefers not to talk too much. She prefers to listen, for the time being at least.

They had many visitors since she arrived. Apparently that was due to their curiosity, so she heard Pia say. She does not really know what to make of it or what she is expected to do. She finds it better to observe and keep up her reservations. To be honest, most people don’t interest her nor does she particularly like them. Or maybe they don’t like her to begin with. There are actually only three other persons with whom she engaged. One is Pia’s partner who lives with her, and other are a couple, an elderly pair, related to Pia.

Dimitri is a handsome young man with black hair and blue eyes. In the beginning he was quite shy and unsure what to do with her, but he was so kind and attentive, all complicated by the language barrier that endeared her to him. Meanwhile their relationship has developed very nicely. He definitely is not a man of many words but very knowledgeable. When he is not at work he likes to spend time with them or is reading and he has many stories to tell as he has traveled far and wide before settling with Pia. Most journeys were done by foot. He still loves to walk and does so as often as he can. Sometimes he takes off alone, nowadays more just for a long walk on the days off work as he cannot persuade Pia to join him as often as he would like her come with him. She is not interested in that kind of activity. She is really very different to him, loves company and is friends with all. She does not care about reading either, she likes music, singing and dancing. Femina is very happy indeed that she was taken in by them. ‘It is her home,’ they say. Well, she feels at home with them, but her home it is not. But she would not insist on correcting them because she does not want to be rude to them just for a minor difference of interpretation of words.

Sometimes she sneaks out into the long corridor with the cold stone floor and the tired lamps. She was astonished when she found the entrance door was no longer there. There was a wall clad with solid wood panels of smooth surface and aged color. She still is puzzled and wonders about where or why it disappeared. She will ask her friends one day if they knew. The other question is, how can she leave the house? To go back out where she came in from is obviously no longer an option. Not that she wanted to, considering the circumstances that brought her here, but she does not think the house is the end of her journey either. Besides, it leaves her somehow uncomfortable to have been able to enter but not to leave, having no apparent exit in sight.

 

The tale begins between night and day, at the time of dawn to be correct. Nothing unusual, it will be a morning as any other, but not for the one person still sleeping curled up in a roll in a hollow between rocks and stone. The head resting on one of the bent arms, the long hair cascading over face and shoulder, the chest moving as the breaths come and go. It is the body of a female, completely naked and though the air of the morning hour is as always the coolest it does not seem to be disturbing her sleep at all.

At the horizon the new morning starts to linger encroaching on the fringe of the night. Pale is the light as it moves through the misty veils and there is great stillness, no twittering of birds, no rustle of grasses or leaves. The night disappears in silence and the sky between heaven and earth turns orange-red. Over the horizon spills warm light. A red golden river flows down to the land to cover all as it goes.

Touching the sleeping body it stirs it up. There is a stretching of the limbs and the opening of the eyes but the sleepiness trails off only slowly. She sits up and just then the sun appears from behind the horizon. First there is only a shiny golden rim but steadily moving up and up he shows himself in all his big full roundedness and as he rises through the still lingering morning mists, they leave hastily, reddened as if they felt ashamed. It is a wonder-some sun because he seems to be as light as a feather, floating, though he must be heavy, being so big and shining as if he was a sphere of pure gold. One could imagine he needed a helping hand, well hidden behind the horizon that pulled him out of the depth of the night to set him on his track and ensure a new day was born. Or maybe he is just so full of warmth that lets him rise like a balloon and that is why he can be a body of gold but float like a feather.

The newly woken watched the sun rise in awe. Now she looks around. This land is unknown to her. Surprised, confused, without understanding she scans the immediate surrounding and the far but no matter where she looks it leaves her bewildered. She cannot remember how she got here. Behind her is a wall of rocks like a barrier that runs to the left and right and seems to go on forever just like the plain in front that stretches out to the horizon. The rock walls tower high and are built from smooth stone. They claw with their stone fingers into the dry barren ground reaching into the plain, initially fringed with huge boulders, but further away they form islands, getting smaller and smaller until all drowns in loose stones and gravel. The plain is flat like pressed wood without a tree or bush and grasses. The yellowish soil is cracked by fine fissures all over. Even the hardiest plant is sparse and clings to the ground, too weak to rise up to signal its presence. There is no sign of water and there is not a single sign of animals, not even of insects.

The young woman closes her eyes again trying to unlock some memory. Maybe she is still dreaming? But soon she has to accept that this is no dream. She is awake but she has lost her memory, cannot remember anything.

‘Damn it! How did she come here? What could she have wanted from here? Why at all?’ She starts to search again and again, delving deep into herself scrutinizing everything that her brain has to offer, but there are only a few clear and many vague images, nothing that would or could point out relevant information, let alone answering her questions. In fact, it gets worse. She finds herself not even knowing who she is, nor her name.

Panic takes hold of her. She jumps up trying desperately to find a way over the rocks and up the rock wall. Very soon it is clear that this is a pointless endeavor. She would only risk to break her neck without a chance to succeed. The walls seem to grow higher and higher as she attempts to climb and the stone is too smooth to find a real grip. To go this way is impossible. I is truly no option. Despondently she sits down. No problem with that, stony seats are aplenty.Slowly she calms down. She even scolds herself. She really has no reason to give up so quickly and in desperation. After all her brain is still functioning. It should help not drive her into panic!

‘One step at the time,’ she says to herself and starts systematically to take stock. So she has no memory. This is the basis she has to operate on. Secondly, there is no direct way back up the rock wall and from where she may have come from or where she possibly could find clarity, or so it seems. She could run along the rock wall, there may or may not be another way, but this barrier looks as endless as the plain in front, and who says that she would find a way. She may even run a circle. Besides, even scaling successfully the rock wall it may not bring the sought after result. It may just give her a better view of the plain. She sighs.

‘What has happened? And why?’ She cannot help it. She is lost and feels utterly abandoned. Tears begin to run down her cheeks. There she sits, sobbing and for a while she cries. But realizing that this makes no difference, she stops.

‘Damn black vacuum in my head! What did you do with my memory?’ Anger and aggression begin to stir and take over, but that is as useless as any other feelings. She could only direct it against herself and that does not make sense. After all, she must have contributed at least to a certain extent to what has happened. Who knows what she was up to and for what reasons! And now she has to deal with the consequences of it. She sighs again. Self-loathing and self-reproaching don’t help her either. Now, what can she really do? Hang around here? Wait? The sun has already done good way, undeterred, and the shadows are walking with him. He shines now bright in white, his red and gold a story of the past.

She slowly understands and opens her mind to new thoughts. Okay! She may have lost her memory, but she has gained a brand new consciousness. That might be an incredible advantage! New possibilities! Not to know the past, to be free of its maladies is like opening up a book that has to be written yet. It offers the opportunity to walk roads that might not be considered otherwise as the memory of past events  may put up gates or block the way.

All of a sudden she does not see her situation as bad or desperate. She even feels some optimism. Despite that everything is puzzling she can put up with it. She is in a way a fatalist. She can take what is there and, after all, she does not need much. The decision is made. She will not stay here and wait for ominous things to happen. She is ready to walk choosing the plain as her future. It does not matter what it will bring. The main thing is she is doing something that makes the most sense to her. May be, eventually her memory will return. May be the new will remind her of the old. It is always easier to live with hope and courage of which she has enough. What does she have to lose anyway? Her life? Well, that does not seem to be a big loss, – she cannot even identify it. She better sees herself as fortunate than lamenting because she has all her senses, a functioning brain and body. She is neither hurt nor in any way incapacitated. That is enough to be grateful for. But one thing is clear and nothing will stop her, – she will search for her memory because she knows too well, old knowledge is useful and no knowledge can ever be lost. It is there, it cannot have just disappeared. And if it is somewhere, she just will have to find it. Therefore she will take note of any hints no matter how vague they may be. She needs, no, she must find clarity and the past is part of it. She renounces to listen to her brain’s ifs and buts, being far too late for that. She may have been better off to do so earlier. But she has no place for regrets either, – she does not even know for what anyway. It is better she concentrates now on what is, and what she has.

Her eyes scan the environment all over again and very carefully. She wants to familiarize herself with it intimately. She has to admit the landscape is bizarre. It seems no life exists. Still, there is a beauty in this barren simplicity and there is movement as well. It is the eyes that do not see all.

The sun has well passed the zenith burning down on earth without mercy. The rocks absorb the heat and reflect the light that make them shine as if they were of metal. She observes everything for a while with all her senses engaging in a dialog with nature understanding the language the land spoke. It was about existence and finality, about ongoing change, about illusion and reality and about information and evidence.

She feels like a sponge, soaking up strength from the rocks becoming stronger and stronger. She will have to be contended with the little morning dew that the mists leave before they evaporate just like the sparse vegetation that holds its ground in this arid land. Despondency? Despair? What for and why!

She gets up and begins her walk straight into the plain. While walking she can contemplate, expanding her consciousness and enhancing her conscious being. Instead worrying she can learn, leaving despair to her critical mind. So she is on her way and does not care any longer for not knowing what may happen or will be.

 

‘To be or not to be?’ What is here in question? Is it about the ‘Here’ being less beautiful than the ‘There’? May be! Or, if ‘to be’ is a problem, does it mean ‘not to be’ is the solution because it implies there is no ‘There’?

Essentially it is the question of WHY that has everyone puzzled. If there is a here, logic dictates there is a there. The Here one can see, its HOW can be explained. That may however be a deception, relying too much on Factuality without the consideration of Nothing.

It is not a question of ‘either – or’, but of ‘and’, ‘to be and not to be’. For both the interest lies in the WHY? What is the point, the meaning, the purpose?

 

One is left to ponder about it with phantasy, or theory, or science and believes as in religion, or mind concepts and logical thought as in philosophy. It is the reason for the overall uncertainty because all ideology lacks the intensely desired and generally approved

VALIDITY

 

It seems, she has to adjust to the sudden silence. Her senses are still in overdrive. Lying back using the unpacked sleeping bag as a pillow she stares into the cool watery blue sky. The damp of fog can be sensed already and may be, she won’t see any stars tonight. Her cheeks feel the touch of moist air. How hurried the sun suddenly is. Just before he could be seen behind the trees, now he is gone and the shadows are getting longer.Femina jumps up, grabbing a few items she rushes to the waterfall. Better to get ready for the night now, not later when it might be too late for anything.

She washes herself quickly. The water is cold and certainly stimulates her circulation. After rubbing herself dry and slipping into her tracksuit she feels comfortably warm and refreshed. She fills the flask and returns to the campsite where she gets busy collecting wood for the fire and preparing the nest for the night to sleep in. Suddenly she becomes aware of the many birds gathering in the trees around. They are a noisy crowd, chatting and screeching and carrying on like children in the school-yard. She looks around. Dawn has well settled in and fog gathers in the valley. The sky is iridescent in a darker shade of blue. There are even scattered stars blinking now and then. But the moon has not risen. She is in her waning phase, not romantic at all. Neither is Femina, and there are the smells of mold and musty vapors rising from the forest grounds. Spices of autumn, a taste that leaves no doubt.

There is nothing important to be taken care of now, so she sits down, legs crossed. Gazing along the valley there is mist creeping up the hills and the fog is thickening. She loves the fog, always did, even as a child. There were the white fog fairies, who covered their beauty with veils, and there was the prince who fell in love with their princess after he saw her once playing in the fields. He could never get hold of her because every time, as soon as he tried to reach out to her, she was gone. He became sick with love until one day he decided to follow her into her land. There he must have been able to join her, because he did not come back and was never seen again. Sad beautiful story!

Or is it beautiful because it is so sad? This is a contradiction she finds suddenly annoying. Surely these words can’t be used together! Or is it that she dislikes and opposes their connection? Hm, it is really just the mistake to isolate the absolute and to neglect how it may associate. Sadness is beautiful?? Well yes, as long as one is not in it. That’s why everybody loves fairy-tales because there is drama but it is not real.

The fog has swallowed the valley, covering all with a grey blanket. It is now almost dark and it is very quiet. Now she can hear the waterfall rumbling and the forest rustling as the creatures of the night wake to carry on with their business.

She starts the fire, takes care to make it strong. No wind is stirring and the dry twigs crackle, spitting sparks playfully up in the air and all around. She dampens it down with bigger branches and finally places big pieces of wood on top. It does not take long and she has plenty of coals. Now she can roast the corn-cobs she has brought with her for dinner. The fire high and warm will last with little effort. The ember may keep right into the early morning, when she may want to stir it up again. But there is no need tonight to worry about that, because she will have breakfast with her friends in the local inn.

She fetches the cobs from the coals. They are perfect, deep golden with some specks of burn, just right for being juicy and harbor the taste of the wood. The alu-foil serves as plate and container for the molten butter. Hmm, yumm! She has to reign herself in not to devour the cobs too quickly. She wants to savor every bite to prolong the pleasure. She eats therefore with all senses focused, chewing slowly to give her taste buds all the time to process their impression and to let the aroma rise up the nose to make their entry into her brain an immediate event. Having finished she throws the cobs into the fire and puts more wood on to lighten it up once more. She cannot be bothered to make herself a cup of tea. Instead she drinks the clear water straight from the flask. It tastes very good and she leans back, belly and mind fully satisfied.

Thoughts return since her attention has nothing at hand to keep them away though she really does not want to be bothered. Too lazy to put up a fight she lets them do as they please. Departure! That is the topic of their concern. Well, it is the last time she is here! Despite being desperate to leave she has to overcome her trepidation, the tug to persevere. The known is comforting, the unknown is beset with fear even though it is excitement. The mind always wants to have control. One may be able to control the known but sure not the unknown. The best plans mean nothing. Something unplanned happens and all the plans are useless. She decides not to worry. The most unsettling thoughts are about the departure from her parents. They do not travel far these days, even short trips have become less and less. She may indeed never see them again. But that is parting. Every instant is a parting. Only because it is so short there is no time for sadness and therefore nobody takes notice. Departure is an end to whatever is. Every breath, every blink of the eye, every hour or month and life itself carries with it the parting like the drain of a bridal gown. There is nothing one can do but accept sadness as part of every ‘See you again’ and every ‘Good Bye’. The unforeseen can happen anytime. There is no protection and therefore the mind plays a deceptive game. Of course! It would be overwhelmed if it had to deal with constant fear, and sadness would be overbearing if every moment was seen as a final event. But she finds also solace in the notion that nothing is permanent. And, her parents will leave her, some when. It will never save her from missing them. at any time.

There is another matter that occupies her mind. What is it that makes her take flight or so it seems being no prisoner after all? She entered into a working contract at her own decision. Sure, she knew it was a country that left a lot to desire, but it really is not the worst either. Sure, people here have little tolerance, are stuck in their traditions and may have little humor and fantasy but that is not worse than other folks are elsewhere. Or is it their hypocrisy, their narrow-mindedness or their conceitedness? It makes them ignorant and impotent. It holds back their progress and gives them fear of anything foreign. They love to fit in and trod along with blinkers and get irate if somebody or something gets in their way. Or is it because they cheat their way out of every responsibility and because their entertainment is crude, ridiculing others. There is no imagination in anything they do. They find value only in work. Femina wonders if they have actually any time for dreaming. Indeed, these are enough reasons why any person who loves life, and health, to take flight. Not that the rest of the world is paradise! That is nowhere where humans are. In fact, this population is now rather docile compared to others, though madness was here as well not too long ago. The signs of it are still evident and the events are not forgotten. She smiles cynically. They talk a lot about overcoming the past. It has not been accomplished, but nobody really wants to deal with it any longer.  In the end everything is the same old. May be systems change, but humans don’t. That is worrisome, a bad omen for the times to come. May be ‘Alpha 7’ is also only a mirage. Whatever! It is definitely worth the effort to find out.

She stares into the blazing flames. Orange-red they are and hot. Keeping her legs crossed she moves back a bit. She likes to sit that way. It keeps her spine straight without effort and the body balanced so she can easily relax.

The moon has also risen. She looks lopsided. That does not seem to become her, but what she misses out on beauty she makes up for with a bright silver shine. However, fine haze moves across her. She need not to worry about her beauty. Time will solve her problem and fog will give her a helping hand. Femina’s gaze turns back to the fire and her thoughts to the paradox. But with an altered frame of mind. there is no longer a merry-go-round in her head.

She neither need not to worry. IT helps itself and she has no use for vanities. She is too honest to gloss over her weaknesses, too aware to misunderstand truth and too cognizant to cry over the fate of mankind. As sad as it may be she does not believe man can peacefully adept and rise to the next level. There are too many people to begin with. The numbers have to come down. It is fascinating to watch how determined man walks to his self-demise though he does not want to, at least, that is what he says. It is most likely true too because the majority is ignorant. The program man runs on is on autopilot and knows no mercy. The ones who ought to know better however never consider to self-destruct only to annihilate the other. Eternal life is a rather damned prospect, except it was life in paradise. Earth potentially is a paradise. She would never want to leave the Blue Planet if man was not ruining it. Does that mean stagnation? She laughs. It does not matter. The question is only where is she happy!  A thought flies through her head like a shooting star. She can hardly catch it because it is only one word:  — LOVE – that’s it!  Yes, that is worth the notion. But as a replacement for paradise? No! As an instrument of this world? Or as promise of the world thereafter? Neither, nor! The thought of love is beautiful because love is the elementary power and moving principle, this side and the other. But love contains the contradictory as well: Grief, pain, hate, dying for love, killing for love. Oh Love, you heavenly force, oh Love you powerful hell!

She feels more and more amused. The flames are dancing like crazy, twisting and turning and jumping high. Schizophrenia of the natural, torn apart soul, battle within the closed system. Hot licking tongues talk destruction, red hot glowing coals are proof of their success. Like high spirited goblins fly the sparks. It crackles and cracks, it is quite an art, the performance of red hot love. It is no comedy, nothing to laugh about either! But to be fair, everything can be seen one sided and it does not mean that is all there is. Femina does not want to go through fire. Fear? Naturally! Death by burning? Not if she has a choice. It is funny after all: birth and death, owing to love! Well, a force has two directions, says the physicist. A force can be creative and destructive, says the philosopher. Force equals power, says Femina hence knowing the root of all desire.

She straightens the spine, centers her head right into the axis forming a seamless connection as if they were one piece. Stretching out her arms over the bent knees her body achieves the balance that brings with it a feeling of harmony and ease. Her tensions resolve, being collected in channels they flow along without causing havoc. They leave the body through head, knees and fingertips, cascading out and away steady and softly from troughs that have opened their gates. She sinks her gaze into the ocean of fire with her thoughts using it as a bridge to cross over burning away as they reach the other side. Flames come the other way and fire creeps up on her as if there was scaffolding leading it on. Soon she does not know anymore what is fire and what is her. She closes her eyelids halfway, rolling down the shutters. No more business for today. Having lost her body she is free to fly away, into space and through the cosmos. The fog of autumn is no more than a thin barrier that lets her pass without much resistance. Now her mind can beam white like the sun and as hot. She tries to play with the planets and with the stars but, dear me, they have no permission to change their path. The moons seem to be happy about it, even the one shining over earth laughs. Luna thinks the chaos down there is enough, and Femina should not to cause more problems. She should better remember her duties not just wanting to play foolish games. Ah, what a sour-puss Luna can be! Whatever! Everybody as they like! She just transfers herself into another dimension. She is after fun, after the unconstrained, after joy and pleasure, the life confirming and life enhancing, the all and best feeling that is happiness. But it does not happen as she expects. Wherever she goes there are directives, and whatever kind they are, they represent circumstances which one may like or not. Her flight slows down. She feels heaviness taking hold of her pulling her back towards the ground. But the vastness of space expands, is indefinite. There are no shores, no border and Earth is nowhere to be seen. She has no need for her wings any longer and she shakes them off. The feathers follow behind her like flurries of snow. There are a few unruly ones that flow straight into her mouth. — ‘Pf, ph, tt.. ….she coughs and splutters. So, matter has caught up with her again! But not to worry, one is as good as the other. She sinks down and down further into the depth of space. The feathers follow now behind her like the trails of a comet. It might as well be a peacock’s tail. Both suits her, because it has become very clear: Nowhere but in herself can she find what she is looking for! And her attempt to interest others to play with her has nothing to do with her existence. She can find amusement being alone. It benefits her all the same. But it is fair to say, there is purpose in the “outside”, even if it only means to give help, and pay attention to the meaning of life. Well, it is not all rosy and she can’t say she is overcome with gratefulness. She was often hard done by, and she really dislikes the rigidity of systems, and stubborn minds. In the end, everyone owns his actions and everyone has his own happiness. And there is so much more. There are the like-minded spirits and the fulfilled souls. To choose her company and affiliations is therefore easy and no trouble at all.

She just passes by the waning moon. She forgives Luna the criticism from before because her smile is so bright. She takes a rest on her slimming side. The peacock fans out his tail. The moon recognizes her quickly and is not grumpy at all. She actually likes her beautiful plumage and offers her to stay as long as she wants. ‘They would make a beautiful pair’, she says, beaming all over her face. Femina does not mind to live in symbiosis but naturally, Luna can’t help but dictate the course. Therefore after a while Femina bids her ‘good bye’. The moon is sad and turns quite pale, but she understands and wishes her well. Femina leaves her the peacock’s feathers. That helps to cheer her up again. ‘She may like to use one of her beams to glide home sure and safe’, Luna suggests. What a good idea! It sounds fun and she expects a wonderful ride. So she hops on and off she goes. But, oh my, starting smooth she soon speeds up and gets faster and faster, accelerating on a track of shiny ice with nothing to use to as a brake. Friction makes her hot and glow. So be it! Nothing matters now! She finds there is no difference to burn midair or splatter on the ground. Better enjoy the ride of a lifetime! But nothing of the kind happens. It is the autumn’s fog that catches her, slows her and cools her down. True, she feels quite shaken and stirred. Everything is spinning and nausea whelms up. She tries to find something to hold on to. But where? It seems to be a hopeless endeavor. All around her is coal-raven blackness and her hands grab emptiness. —   THERE IS SIMPLY NOTHING —-   !!!!

NOTHING???   She breaks into laughter. Nothing? That is something after all! In an instant comfort spreads in her heart and being a pump, the comfort is soon spread throughout her body. Her laughter turns into light. She can suddenly see herself in the darkness. Even if nothing does not seem much, it is ALL there is, it is all that she can have. Indeed! This is a dimension she has never knowingly gone through. Now she has not much of a choice. Of course, she struggles! She is not game! She fears to be lost.

A screech-owl calls coaxing her: “Come-with me! Come-with me!” So she is back at the starting point from where she began her trip.  She hears the waterfall rushing and sees the fire burnt down, the glowing ember going dark. She does not move. “Now or never!” flashes through the stillness of her mind. She needs to tackle her fear. It was fear that cut her trip short. Fear is the millstone round the neck and the log tied to the legs. “Come-with me! Come-with me!” calls the owl with a sound so sweet that she cannot resist. The glowing coals are covered in black and the fog is thick, locking her away from the moon, stars and trees. The waterfall murmurs a monotone song.

Before she goes into Nothing she needs to feel herself because that is all she can take with her. She closes her eyes, turns her gaze inward. All is calm. She flows with her blood throughout her body, flows into all cells and out again. Riding along the tracks of her nervous system she finally ends up in her brain. There she collects herself with a clear focused mind. She checks all her sensual centers, all the energy levels and reservoirs, batteries and relay-stations, memory bank and networking cables. All is as good as it can be. It is reassuring or, maybe it is just a habit to prepare for a trip. Of course, going into Nothing means there is really nothing she can rely on, but waves don’t need much to travel. They transverse emptiness, they can transcend and be reflected. They can carry on, propagate, communicate, they can generate and transmit They can in fact do anything. That is enough for the journey she has in mind.

Her final destination within herself is the belly. She slides down the elementary track and diffuses into the cavity of the abdomen. And there she finds a hidden lake in a cave of muscle. Its water is inviting warm and it is protected from anything disturbing. She discards any belongings she still has on her, all cloths, all jewelry before diving in. Ahhhh! Amazing!!! Her body is engulfed by a fluid that is like silk and she is nearly weightless floating in suspension. She lets herself drift. Sometimes soft ripples caress her body. Sometimes she hears sounds like waves lapping up on a shore of sand, or splashes, bouncing off smooth walls of stone. The water carries away all thoughts, all worries, silencing even the sound of breath.

A current grabs her. She does not object. No need to stay on. She is on her way not knowing where it will end. The current gets stronger, there is no escape, even if she wanted. Time is left behind. Coal-raven blackness is her only companion. Suddenly she realizes that there is no water anymore, only a vacuum. There is also no current, but suction instead. It pulls her strong and unstoppable. This is it! There is nothing left to do. Is this the end of her journey? She begins to dissolve. Nothing is left of her. Nothing remains.

NOTHING? Ah, but that is Something! Waves carry on, this side and the other, inside and outside.

 

Weekend! How quick it came, but she feels that way always when it has arrived. They took a trip to Femina’s favorite spot that she often visited to get away from the hustle of city life. She calls it a trip into the green, though there is not much green left at this time of the year. The meadows still are and some trees, but most of them have turned their leaves into all kinds of colors and they seem to compete for the brightest one. They walk through the mixed woodland. The little one collects some treasures as she goes, leaves, twigs, and seedpods. They carry warm cloths and overnight gear, because it can get quite cool without the sun and Femina intends to stay the night outdoors. It will be the last time for this year, it will be the last time in this spot altogether. She has no intention to ever return once she left the country for good.

These lands have little natural habitat, to Femina’s regret, because nature is an important part of her life. But here you don’t have unspoiled beauty anywhere to saturate your senses. Once of course there was but humans have quickly disposed of it. Instead they created concrete landscapes and recreational areas with manicured lawns and shrubs. They live in the one and flock to the other on weekends for some weekend fun.

It is rare indeed to find an area less worked over or unspoiled. Where they are walking, and the immediate surroundings, is such an oasis. Its existence is rather puzzling but it may be due to being too far away for a day- or even a weekend trip. Besides, there are no streets for the shiny cars and motorbikes, only a country road without asphalt, stony and rough. And there is really nothing exciting to do or on offer that would make a trip worth wile for most people. Femina was very happy to have found this left alone and forgotten piece of nature, coming often to spend the night under the open sky. Nobody ever disturbed her because there were hardly ever any people and if so, they would not spend a night. The most human encounters she had was with the locals and that was rare. They were mainly elderly folks, living in the tiny village, where they tended to their little house-gardens, growing vegetables for their own use and letting their small number of cows, sheep and goats graze the meadows during the day. They seemed to go to bed as soon as they housed their chicken for the night, because nobody would be found walking around after dark. They were however friendly people, but they were the forgotten ones too. Left to themselves, the young ones gone for the cities to find work and pleasure, they were not privileged or did the gardening as a hobby. It was a necessity, their livelihood, but they were content as Femina found out on the rare chats she had with them. She believes, they never knew she was there overnight up on the hill all by herself.

They must carry on a bit further to reach the track that leads up to the resting place. The path is not obvious. It is covered with leaves, branches and stones and for the unaware easily looked over. It also does not promise anything special, rather a track that might go to nowhere. But Femina has come often enough to find it quickly, and up they go. It is a bit of a climb, about three hundred meters, until they reach another path which takes them across the slope. Finally they land on a small grassy plateau partially protected by a rocky overhang, that is good enough to stay dry in a sudden shower, but not enough in a storm, as Femina has experienced on the occasion. Traversing the hill is far easier than the climb because the track is soft and earthy without too many stones. Following the track a little further leads to a waterfall, nothing special or particularly remarkable, but it has good water collected and filtered by earth and rocks from above. Its noises can be heard sitting on the plateau if one cares to listen to the sounds of nature.

They put down their baggage. Femina spreads out the insulation mat and above the straw mat so they can sit down and make themselves comfortable. From here the view is wonderful. The woods below were cleared some time ago and though shrubs and young trees try hard to cover the wounds they have not reached any substantial height yet that would block the sight.

“Here you will stay tonight?” asks the little one, while grabbing enthusiastically one of the sandwiches Tina unwraps followed by more food being unpacked.

Femina nods. “It is beautiful here, don’t you think? Just let your eyes wander, you can see so far and all the colors on the way! When the mist and fog of the evening rise and disappear in the morning it has a magic that I love to watch.”

“Why don’t we stay as well“? The little one asks her mother.

“Not tonight, my dear,” says Tina, “it is far too cold. We sleep in the village down there.”

The little one searches in the given direction. It is not easy to spot the grey and reddish rooftops some distance away amongst the many colors of the leaves. Finding them does not impress her it seems.

“I can put on the warm cloths we have taken with us. So please let us stay here with Femina.” She pleads with her mum.

Femina interferes, explaining to her, that in fact she would like to stay on her own, intending to use the time for meditation and she did not believe, it would be of much interest for her dearest friends to join her for that matter.

“Ah”, she says and is satisfied. Indeed, she knows what meditation is and how to do it, of course. Mother already taught her the principles, but she is not fond to spend the evening that way, too much to do, too much to explore. Anything is more exciting than sitting still and not even talk! She empties her pockets, spreading out the collected treasures and sorts through them, because she wants to keep the most interesting ones to take back home as souvenirs.

The sun walks steadily on a flat path. Shining mildly he lets the midges dance. Over there, not far from them are some truly amazing. They engage in a baffling activity of diving up, and floating down, using their wings like helicopter blades and their long legs swimming like a frog when they go up as if diving from the bottom of the lake to the surface out of the water, and then their wings turn into sails and their legs hang loosely down when they let themselves sink back to the imaginary ground, never actually landing. Up and down it goes, up and down, and up and down. They seem tireless and look like dainty fairies who have nothing better to do than enjoying themselves with games and nonsense all day long. They certainly seem to enjoy what they are doing right now as there is no end to their rise and fall activity. Femina points them out to her friends and they watch them for a while getting touched by their gaiety and becoming cheerful just as well.

“I wonder how long they may live,” says Femina pondering.

“No idea,” replies Tina amused. “May be only hours, the way they behave! I don’t even know what species they are. I have never seen anything like it before. Well, maybe they die as happy as they seem to live, no matter how long they live. Days, hours or weeks, does it matter?

Somewhere from between the trees comes the call of a cuckoo. Tina listens, then she says: “Nice place, just right to examine your Self and feel your balance.”

Femina agrees. “Absolutely! How often did I come here to regenerate and stabilize!”

“Well,” says Tina, “now it won’t be long and you can leave all behind you and say bye, bye.”

Femina answers with a deep sigh. “Indeed, I can’t wait. If my life would have to continue like that I could not hurry death along quickly enough to hasten the end!”

She gazes down the valley. It is hard to hold back the tears because out there in the distance underneath the brown dome of smog, and hidden within crouches relentless the reaper. His stench rises high up into the sky. Many believe he brings all the blessings, poverty does exist no more. But instead, he brings acid rains and dying forests and more starvation than ever before.

‘But who is to blame,’ she sighs again. ‘Only a few understand the PRINCIPLE of the OPPOSITE that carries the axis of preservation right in the middle of it.’

She remains silent. Heaviness creeps up bearing down on her body. Tina takes the little one to the waterfall. With the quiet around relief comes swiftly. She feels connected with nature, it is for her like a soothing balm.  – Matter, – binding structures! Or? ‘Patterns, – grids, – barred prison windows, – that is but the argument and perception of her intellect, because it cannot do without the body and gets sometimes annoyed with it. She herself feels at home in matter. There is this life’s origin and end. She smiles as always when she uses nature as her mirror. The complexity of a harmonious system looks back at her and nothing more she needs or wants to be.

A humming shiny little fish glides along in the pale blue watery sky. Not far from her on a stony mound a snake makes himself comfortable. How different the world of the snake is to hers. She has no infrared vision like the snake, and that is only one difference.  But the feeling of happy contentment is the same to all, be it snake, fish, herself or even stone, which also always seeks a place to rest. Intellect as the director is only half of the deal, it needs the emotions as the conductor to make the deal complete. Both are difficult to grasp and difficult to understand because their correlation with structure is elusive and unknown. Only their processes have been revealed. Who knows, it may be for the better. Anything useful can be misused. However, evidence, proof, appears to be essential, because to believe is not enough. The scientific mind always wants prove, otherwise truth remains a question of personal taste and choice.

Too many thoughts start to flood Femina’s mind, causing havoc. She tries to stop it as she seems to head towards a whirlpool. That is really a useless endeavor. It only uses up her energies. There are thousands of things pulling her this way or the other. Trying to stop it really is only a disguise of avoidance. It is a trap! Or is it? Whirlpool? Or trap? The return of her friends interrupt her.

The sun has turned pale and cool. Tina distributes fruits and announces that they will soon head down to the village, before it gets too late and find the inn closed.

Femina’s orange is very dry. She peels another being the same. She angrily throws them down into the bushes. Tina rolls her eyes.

“Why can’t oranges be oranges as they should be!!!!!!” She exclaims.

Tina does not want to answer. It would most likely put coal to the fire.

“Take mine,” the little one says and offers her the rest she has not yet eaten. “Mine is okay.” Tina smiles.

“Never mind,” Femina replies, “I’ve lost my appetite. But thanks for your offer.”

The little one shrugs her shoulders and eats the orange without further comment.

Femina stares at Tina who remains silent and unperturbed. Femina’s staring intensifies.

“Ah,” says Tina after all, “leave me out of this. Your frustration is nothing new and neither is your crisis. Being caught in contradictions you know as good as I do that the best thing is to walk straight through their middle.”

“Excuse me!” Femina protests, “comparing apples and oranges here! The dry oranges have nothing to do with my personal affairs!”

“If you say so…….,” states Tina dismissive. “And of course you know what to do, don’t you?”

Femina nods.

“Good! Then do it!”

Her friend does not take the bait and indeed puts out Femina’s fire. How can she forget that Tina sees right through her? Puff! ‘Wrong maneuver, disarmament of the gun.’

Somewhat vague she says: “I do what I can.”

“Ph,” snaps Tina, “you run in circles, crazily searching for the solution. Honestly, dear, you cannot find the answer if you hail harmony and refuse to accept chaos.”

‘Of course’, no point to argue.’ Tina won’t let her get away with it.

“You can eat an apple, if you don’t like the orange.” The little one tries to offer another solution.

“Well, I could drive to the orange country to get a really good orange, isn’t it?” She smirks

Tina grins. “She could also change the system to ensure she gets what she wants right here and now!! – No, no my dear, Femina suffers from a very different problem. Though it is okay to want a better orange, it is only the hook to hang her hat on.”

“What problem does she have?” asks the little one. She does not let go. Kids and their curious minds!  And how stubborn they can be! Or is this an attitude of the old? Damn it! The circus in her head starts again. Annoyed she says: “You would not understand!”

The little one is perplexed. “Can’t you explain it to me?” She would like to help. Her motives are altruistic.

“No she can’t,” answers Tina instead. “That’s the reason why her temper flares up and the oranges become powder kegs.”

Now the little one is puzzled even more. “Please, you explain it to me, if Femina can’t!”

It is Femina’s turn to grin because how can you explain the child something so complex’, and she waits expectantly for Tina’s answer.

Tina knows she needs to look for something simple that can satisfy her girl’s hungry mind and still is not too far of the mark for Femina’s.

“Okay,” she says, “maybe I use an example instead. Let’s make Femina to a conductor of an orchestra. They play very nicely and Femina is very pleased. But when the musicians get out of tune, she gets angry and she certainly does not want any different kinds of music other than hers. And worse, during their breaks they play as they want, which then is quite chaotic. But that is not all bad, because within that free play the musicians try new things and may organize themselves to smaller groups with a different style of music or showing off their individual skills. Of course that is not what Femina has in mind. She wants melody and harmony not disobedience and unruliness. Mind you, the orchestra has a right to their breaks. And then they really should really be allowed to play what they want!”

The little one is indignant: “Really Femina, in their free time they can do as they please!”

Femina answers defensively: “I agree to some extent, but it is far worse! You know, they refuse to listen to me. They undermine my orders, they rebel!! That is the problem!”

The little one looks at her mother with big eyes. Femina suddenly has all her sympathy, but Tina’s reply comes promptly: “Sweetheart, your sympathy is out of place. ‘Order’, ‘command’, ‘rebels’, – these are the favorite words of tyrants, dictators, despots!”

“Hallo, I am the conductor! I have the responsibility for the orchestra’s work! I know what is good for them and it is my decision what needs to be done……….”

She could talk to the trees, because her two friends just laugh now and don’t even bother to answer. No doubt, the little one has an anti-authoritarian education. She can literally ‘get lost’ with her arguments.

“Ask her, if she needs a bodyguard to get to the desk. Or maybe she already needs the guards for reinforcement of her orders!” Tina probes relentless and they carry on with their jokes.

“What kind of friends are you?” She interrupts them. “I suffer, and you make jokes about me!” She actually means it at the moment at least. The two stop.

The little one comes over to her and gives her a big kiss on the cheek. She understands. She too does not always get what she wants. Tina smiles softly and rolls her eyes in sympathy after all. She starts to hum: “That’s life…..”

How odd it is to find so much drama in banality and in drama so much pleasure!

“Ah you two, my sweetest, dearest, most loyal friends,…”. She embraces them both and smothers them impulsively, holding them tight until they gasp for air. They struggle to free themselves, prodding and tweaking her so she would let them go. And so the wrestling under lots of laughter takes its course. The birds fly up into the higher branches to eye them from a safer place. The snake has left silently, too much of unsettling vibrations. Only the midges carry on dancing unperturbed, free of sorrow even if the world explodes.

Femina has no chance to win the battle. The little one tickles her all over while Tina holds her tight. She tries hard to untangle, but shakes in laughter and finally gives in and pleads with them to let her go. They stop to catch their breaths. The little one would be ready for more action, but the sun is low and ready to set. They need to go. Tina and the girl collect their things and after discussing their plans for the morning they finally leave. As they disappear into the woods, their laughter can still be heard for a while. But then Femina is alone, with no other noises than the ones that belong to that place.

Femina would like to take up the topic of emancipation again but does not really know how to reignite the interest. ‘Nonsense, ‘she reassures herself, ‘anything would make a good entry, for example, that the cosmos enters into a new phase, or she could ask one particular question that most people at least once in their lifetime ask, ‘what am I’; or she may just return to her relationship with men, or simply to the current boyfriend. It always includes emancipation in one way or the other: The human race has been given the ultimatum, either to destroy itself or to get rid of their primitive and unsustainable ways of life; men, women, everyone has to take responsibility for their action and free themselves from their dependencies. Well, and she herself, she must let go of her expectations to give her personal freedom a chance.

Femina turns to Tina. Looking at her a big happy smile appears on her face. She decides to drop emancipation as subject of interest. Tina is her comrade in arms anyway.

“You know,” she says instead, “not one day goes by that I don’t thank Fortuna for her benevolence she bestows on me. What do you think? Don’t we have everything we need, in fact, having more than plenty? Just to think under what miserable circumstances others have to live…….”

She raises her hand to prevent Tina from interrupting her who intended to do exactly that. Femina knows what she most likely was going to say, ‘that this was no reason to be conscientious about.’ True, their predecessors went through so much misery like no others. They were hunted, tortured, murdered. In some parts of the world they still are and it is for no other reason, than thinking differently and being different to their persecutors. To be fair, that can happen to anyone who dares to be outside the establishment. History books are full of their stories.

“I am not conscientious about it,” she says, “but I am sure glad to be a Sozieterna despite it all. I remember too well how I felt when I did not know I was one.”

Tina agrees. She feels the same way, though there was a time when she did not. She is however convinced that Sozieternas have earned every bit of good fortune and happiness there is. “Fortunes belong to the brave,” she states assuredly. “What do others do for their good luck or happiness?! They wait that somebody gives it to them. Boss, king, spouse, whoever they think should give it to them, they don’t care to do something themselves and if they do, they look in the wrong places. And they are full of envy. Indeed, I have no sympathy for them, at least not today.” She sighs, adding finally:  “Sure, I am glad too to be a Sozieterna.”

Femina’s thoughts wander back the memory lane. For a long time she was unaware of her cultural identity. She was raised as a Sozieterna, but it was not discussed or particularly referred to. Mother did mention it on one or the other occasion, when she talked about her own childhood, but ancestry was never the focus of her tales and Femina did not pay particular attention to these rare hints as it had no significance for her. She forgot about it altogether. She had a much protected childhood and though they were materially speaking poor, her life was rich in all other aspects that no money could buy. Mother had a big family and though the contacts between them were rare due to the distances, it was fun to meet the relatives. Femina also loved to spend time with her grandparents as often as she could because they lived in the country with a life so different to the city where her parents were. Mother was full of love, keen on music, singing and dancing, and father would have the most interesting stories to tell from his travels abroad. Mother played her own instrument and often her parents would sing together, songs that you would hardly hear in other places. Father was also interested in reading and had various intellectual interests. He seemed to be particularly fond of travelers. They often had guests in their house from many different corners of the world. That was really in stark contrast to his usual reluctance to keep company with others. Even as a child, and despite not having any siblings she never found there was something more interesting than her own family. Father had no relatives of his own, only a sister whom he found later in his life searching for her, but she passed away soon after. Though he was not much of a social person, as a young child you would not care about such things. Besides, it was rather comforting to have his full attention. Entering school brought the changes, subtle initially. She was different to the other kids in her class and that only increased the older she got and when she was sent to a boarding school to further her education. It became more and more troublesome for her. In fact, there were depressive times when she felt confused and did not understand what was wrong with her. She searched for faults on her, in her and she could not see any despite others telling her she was wrong and at fault. It was better after leaving the boarding school. While studying she went on many travels abroad. There she was a legitimate stranger amongst others. She noticed however, that she preferred a certain type of people, regardless of their cultural background. And then one day she accidentally came across a report on people, a minority called Sozierterna. Though they were not unknown or unheard of, she never had much interest in their history. It was a revelation. Now she understood. Nothing was wrong with her, she was just a Sozieterna.

Naturally, at the next opportunity she questioned her parents. She wanted to be sure, did not want to leave her conclusions unconfirmed. She smiles. That was the day she met Tina, just after talking to her parents, to be precise. The discussion with them took a very different course than expected. It left her upset with a mixture of emotions that needed some time to unravel. So she went to the local pub to have a drink and calm down.

‘Yes, yes, she was a Sozieterna. Why suddenly would that be so important?!’ Damn it! Her parents did not understand at all! They did not know about her depressions! ‘It was important,’ she insisted. But father’s simple reply was that she should not measure herself on others and mother said, that they did not want to influence her, she should have her own choice to whom she wanted to belong. Sozieterna had no monopoly on her or her life, only because she was born one.’ Besides, there was also a historical event that left some mark on her parents. They were living in very dangerous times then, because the ruling regime was on a mission of ethnic cleansing. Mother’s parents even had to alter their name to avoid unwanted attention by the authorities. Though Sozieterna never was interested in any politics for their ethnic rights or declaration, they were killed regardless. Sozieterna’s point of view has not changed, but many would be even more cautious, as her parents, not to talk about their ancestry freely.

What could she answer to that?? She could not fault them! There really had never been a need to talk about either. First there was the sheltered family life, then the first school years she was well supported by her parents when things upset her at school, then she was sent to a boarding school, saw the parents only during the holidays and was not really particularly asking them questions. She already had accepted then that they were somewhat different and they did not seem troubled by it. When she started to travel during her studies, she felt so much better anyway, having left the confines of the rigid boarding school. So, why being upset with the parents when she only asked questions now?

That’s when she went out for a drink. To tell her oldies that ignorance gave her suffering was good for nothing, because father would only fall into a sermon over morals and mother would get feelings of guilt. She did not want any of it. She still was angry, angry with her parents, angry with herself and definitely angry with everybody else. Surely a drink would help to ease the tension. Femina smiles.

“Hey!” Tina snaps her fingers, calling Femina back into the presence.

“I just recalled how we met,” she says apologetically. “We both were really angry, do you remember?”

“Indeed, I do,” she answers and smiles as well at the thought. “But in contrast to you, I was angry with my parents for telling me all the time how pleased I should be about being a Sozieterna, despite the fact, that I had difficulties with others. It was odd, isn’t it, that we both had the same problems but were blaming the parents, for a very different reason. While I blamed Sozieterna as well, you were so relieved to have found out you were one! Oh my, did my parents and Sozieterna get on my nerves!!!! I needed a drink, truly I did. And then you came along. We had quite a few, I remember!”

They both indulge in their memory. It was the beginning of a friendship that lasted and proofed to be very special indeed. ‘Mirror, mirror on the wall…….,’they found the magic mirror in each other’s eyes. There they can see another true reflection of themselves that lies behind the image of a superficial screen.

They keep the evening short being too tired for another long night. The little one comes over to join them. She has enough of losing against Robbi. They decide to watch a TV documentary on wild life in a far corner of the world with stunning photography. After it finished, all three really enjoying it, they retreat into their bedrooms to get a good night sleep. Soon the lights are out and sandman takes them into his arms spinning their dreams with a shiny yarn.

“Hi Femina,” the little one calls out immediately, “you know where we were today?” She beams with enthusiasm. “We were at the animal museum! That was great, wasn’t it mum?”

Her mother nods but seems less impressed. “They have done a good job,” she says. “The animals looked very real and were placed amongst realistic imitations of their natural habitat. They provided earphones for the original sounds. They had video shows and even a little real zoo where the animals could be stroked and fed. But surprisingly, they had no holograms.”

Femina shrugs her shoulders. “You are surprised? Don’t I always say, that here they live on the …..”

“Yeah, yeah, so you say,” Tina interrupts her. Uh, she does not seem to be in a good mood though she tries to hide it.

“What did you like best?” Femina asks the little one while ordering Robbi to bring tea. She sits down on the lounge opposite them. The little one leans on to her mother and searches in her memory, the face showing variable stages of delight. After all she says: “The kangaroos in the zoo! Some of them had joeys in their pouches and some ate out of my hand. And can they jump! Hop, hop! Big hops! And they poked me when I had no food left!” She stops talking, is obviously caught up in her sweet memories.

Instead, Tina continues: “We have to move too! She needs to see real life, live life. That is better than any museum. So, that means we have to move.”

Femina agrees. Absolutely! The little one should get the best education possible, meaning theory and experience, that’s the combination that ensures best results.

“By the way,” the little one interrupts, “I hope you don’t mind, I have programmed tonight’s dinner!”

“Ah”, replies Femina, “as long as I was not forgotten!”

The little one answers with a smile of uncertainty and some fleeting doubt, but then returns to a self-confident attitude. “I am sure you will like it.”

“Well,” says Femina, “no reason to doubt that!” but she thinks about the consequences that are likely to ensue. She is at present free of her desires for cakes and chocolates and similar delights. That is not always the case. She has a sweet tooth and calls herself a binge sweet and chocolate addict. She knows, her abstinence is seriously challenged as soon as chocolate melts on her tongue. At times she thinks she could live on chocolate alone. Here, in this country abstinence is particularly difficult because the many cooks and chefs outdo each other with their sweet creations. There is no replacement, not even fruit that she loves. Though one can buy local and imported tropical fruits they taste as if they h never saw the sun but ripened in laboratories, sprayed and polished to look good and keep fresh. When she closes her eyes her taste buds actually don’t know what she is eating. She does not even trust they provide the vitamins fruit have. For that matter she takes tablets. At least then she knows, what she is eating. May be. It sure is chemistry without pretending to be fruit.

Robbi’s monotone techno-voice brings her back from her drifting thoughts. Nobody reacts, so he collects the empty cups and disappears into the kitchen. The little one races after him, coming back with a bottle of ‘Lifespender’, a drink that kids are obsessed with and as it mixes well with alcohol, also adults love it.

“You are sooo right,” Femina turns to her friend, “you really should move too, the sooner the better! By the way, last night I was blasted. I have never been able to drink, but probably I need a reminder from time to time.” Tina nods. “I really wished you could stay longer. You would then meet my new boyfriend as well,” she adds.

“I would like to meet him too,” the little one exclaims. “I also have a boyfriend. We go to the same school and he brings me chewing gum every day to prevent me from getting braces just like him ‘because chewing is good’, he says.”

“Ah, how considerate of him,” Femina answers, “but while chewing is healthy, it does not mean the chewing gum is.”

Obviously Tina must have told her already. “Yes, yes, I know,” she says without much interest.

Tina remained silent, but stares at Femina, lips tightly pressed together. She does not seem to be interested in the prospect to meet her friend that is.

“Is he really that extraordinary?” she asks after all. “Men are just men, none better than the other. As long as they don’t have you, they chase you, just like the keen tom cats. After they got what they were after you are just a trophy. Do you really believe your shining knight is different? Or is it that you would like a second opinion from me because you are not sure? She disapprovingly shakes her head. “You are uncorrectable!”

Femina is bewildered: “Firstly, I think he is the exception, and secondly, what do you see as uncorrectable on me!? You have given up men and I have given up children. So, what is here uncorrectable!!”

“You still think you can find a true togetherness with them. Forget it!”

“My dear, but there is!” Femina smiles candidly.

“Well, you can get together, but that is it!” Tina does not let go.

Femina agrees with her friend to some extent. After all, she may have said yes to children if she didn’t. For that matter however, you do not need the other gender anyway. There are sperm banks and frozen embryos and even more orphans. But she cannot reject men the way Tina does.

“What do you expect from me?” She asks her somewhat irritated. “Should I suddenly love women, because you can’t forgive men that they exist?”

“Incapable they are! Incapable of love, incapable of commitment. They always were, they still are. And what about our Sozieternas? Though they may be a bit better compared to the rest, but can you really rely on them? Who raises the children when the relationship ends? We do it! We women!!!” She gets more and more carried away. “Peacocks they are!” She hisses angrily. She conveniently overlooks the fact, that it is usually the mothers insisting to be the primary care givers after a split from a Sozieterna and definitely so, if the father is not one.

“And? What do you have against peacocks? Beautiful creatures they are!”

“Yes, they are,” the little one agrees.

“Well, then they are leeches!” Tina corrects defiantly.

“Igitt!” The little one laughs turning up her nose. “But Charlie is no leech!” she says. That must be her chewing gum supplier.

“He is just in the state of loved up Puss,” explains an unrepentant mother.

Femina and the little one look at each other suggestively, shrugging their shoulders in resignation. Arguments won’t get them anywhere. Tina is caught in an emotional trap. To free herself she needs to be honest, not angry.

Dinner is ready. The little one hurries ahead and in Feminas bowel sits a lurking appetite. He turns into a monster, devouring pizza, cheese crepes, poached tinned fruit salad with ice cream and at the end a coffee with cream. And because her belly turned into a little round boulder, she has fresh orange juice to soften the stony feeling. Well, the juice is cold and looks and smells like an orange. It even does not taste too bad either.

While they were eating Tina remained mostly silent. They left her in peace. She might be struggling with an internal conflict. May be she realizes that giving up men does not mean dreams end regarding the future.  Femina believes it is easier for herself, having her own dreams, but seeing the future as a possibility rather than a ‘must be.’

After having finished dinner, Femina tries to re-open communication: “Well my dear, I wonder if I am on the right track here and please don’t get me wrong or get angry at me………It is good that we keep dreaming, that we don’t lose our dreams, no matter what. Honestly, I think I am closer to mine now than ever, to…..”

“Is that so?” Tina interrupts her sharply. “How come? Because you have fallen in love with superman?”

The little one gets up, leaves them to their battles. She retreats to play some video games. Robbi cleans the table and potters around in the kitchen. They stay in the dining room, having their after dinner cigarettes. Robbi brings them a fresh pot of tea.

“Tina please,” Femina starts again, “don’t be so unfair! I sure have made decisions after examining the conflict between men and women. But we  a r e  emancipated and that is the main point.”

“You have given up you mean, isn’t it so?”

“Call it as you wish! It is not how I see it. I am absolutely pleased to be able to make my life my own, solve my own problems, make my own decisions. I don’t have to deal with the other’s problems nor continue in a relationship that has little or no meaning. No duty that binds me or is expected of me. I cannot stand to be or fulfil another’s expectation.”

“Exactly!” Tina agrees. “That’s why I don’t understand why you continue to get involved with them. Can’t you just nibble? No, you have to make a full meal of it!”

“So what!” Femina says, becoming more and more annoyed. “It just happens that way. I prefer it to one night stands. That is a question of choice, isn’t it? But where is your tolerance? And worse, where is your consideration for your girl? You instigate what you complain about. Don’t you see how that must influence her? And you claim to be objective!!!” Femina reminds her of last night: ‘I don’t want her to become prejudice….,’ quoting her.

“But I only want to prevent her from disappointments……….” Tina stops subdued.

“Indeed!” Femina smiles forgivingly. That is called ‘the turning of tables’. The same words coming from other lips, the same deposition with a different meaning.

 

“You are sooo right!” Tina’s voice is now soft and so is her demeanor. “Sometimes I can’t help myself. Seeing the damage they have caused and still do. Nothing ever changes without a big fight. Disregarding evidence, never listening. Sozieterna can try as much as they want, all reasoning falls on unprepared grounds.” Her eyes widen to dark circles. She is worried about the future with worries that only a mother’s heart can know. She wants a future for her daughter that is a happy one. And there is after all a gender division and male domination.

“Today our roles are obviously reversed,” says she. “Today you are the one in peace. I wonder…..,” smiling she wanders off in deep thought. ‘Why is she so upset? Did she not have a good day with her girl?’ She revisits the day chronologically and then the penny drops,…..the girl,…..museum,……finally the mentioning of Femina’s boy-friend!

Looking up, she says in disgust: “They killed them, extinguished them!! You can only see them in the museum, and the killing still goes on!”

Femina understands. She has no answer. It is as Tina says. She can only share her pain. She just wants to point out that men are not the only one to blame, women do have after all to take some blame, but before she can express her thoughts, Tina continues: “No need to tell me, I know. Forget my angry tirades. My anger is gone. With the diagnosis you have the therapy!” She chuckles. Of course, while that is correct treatment is not necessarily that simple. “May be, you tell me now a bit more about your shining knight and why he is invited into your castle. I am curious!”

Femina stops silent. Suddenly she does not know what to say. Hesitating she start with: “He is good looking…” But falling silent again her thoughts carry on. ‘She really should not have mentioned him. That was so ridiculous. Tina, you relentless beast!’

They look at each other and then laugh out loud. There they are, shuffling the hot iron to and fro. They don’t even need a mirror. They can see themselves in the other. Internal conflicts are disowned and made to the other’s problem because it is so easy to deceive oneself and rebuke the other instead. The advice to keep our own house in order is well meant, but with too much going on in there we may not see the hidden und too much do we pay homage to our incomplete mind and our vanity.

“So now, what is it? Don’t you want to tell me anything anymore?” Tina seems to think she feels hurt, but she certainly is not. She just finds it too ridiculous to sing her boyfriend’s praises. Why? She does not know why, or does she? Is it because it does not sit well with the claim to be emancipated? Rubbish! She can rave about whom or whatever she wants. However, only the future can tell if her boyfriend was worth the praises. He has to prove it first, isn’t it? Nothing to do with emancipation which goes far beyond the man-woman relationship anyway. Every single person must figure out if they are ready to or can live their life on their own, owning their life as a matter of fact. It is a social question.

Still stuck on her thoughts turning to Tina she says: “Emancipation is the new foundation to build a better future for this world, don’t you think? It is worthwhile to give it at least a try. May be we can see it happening? What do you think? Then again, maybe not!”

Tina purses her lips contemptuously. “Praise to your hopes, but you know, it will need revolution not evolution, and I am all for it, because there is too little time.  Males will not let go without a fight. I beg your forgiveness!”

“As you like, my dear. Both will be necessary!’

“Good! We have reached a consensus! I am so glad! But, didn’t I actually ask you to tell me about your new flame?” Laughing Femina agrees.

To make themselves more comfortable, they return to the living room. Robbi is ordered to bring more tea and then he has to play chess with the little one who got bored playing alone. Indeed, Femina is very pleased with this model. She does not need any of the sophisticated new androids though they may be the perfect servants helping their owners in many more ways than she can imagine. They may even disperse loneliness for some or fulfil any other desires. Femina shudders. She definitely prefers to go to bed with a real man.