“What are you immigrating into or out of ?”

I’m reading on the board and my mind is completely blank. I can’t think what to write.

But suddenly it hits me.

Several days ago, I was saying that I can’t continue the things I was beginning to write – I was just describing something I liked so much and, then, just stopped.

Though, I suddenly get a strange expectation or hope that when the divine voice would ask “Aren’t we going to follow him?” I would be able to answer “Yes.”

That’s where I’m going – from NO to YES.

                                                 Most novelists have the same experience. Some Brown, Smith, or Jones comes before them and says in the most seductive and charming way in the world, ‘Come and catch me if you can.’
Virginia Woolf
“Mr. Bennett and Mrs. Brown”

When she woke up that day, she had the feeling that she was waiting. It was a strong sense of anticipation she couldn’t explain. Yet, it was very exhausting.

For noon, the feeling became almost irresistible. Unbearable.

– Is it that again?
The soft, almost divine voice asked.
– Yes, – she answered.
For the time she got on the bus, she could hear the heart beating fast in her ears, blood pushing her face from inside and coldness wandering up and down her spine.
– Where is IT? – the voice asked.
– Over there, – she answered.
– Where?
– There. On the second seat, next to the window.
The old man was sitting there, with black, almost worn out stick resting between his legs, he was reading a newspaper.
– Look, he is a personage, – she said.
– No. A character, – the voice corrected.
– You know better.
– I can’t see clearly. Describe him.
– He is old, probably in his 60s.
– Or, 70s.
– Yes, doesn’t matter. Look, how neatly he is dressed, black trousers, blue knitted pullover with an accurately ironed suit and coat. His shoes are so clean he probably sees his own reflection in them when looking at his feet.
– Or, at his steps.
– Yes, doesn’t matter. His scarf is carefully folded and put on his knee. Probably, his wife taught him how to fold so carefully. Perhaps she died 2-3 years ago because of breast cancer.
– Or, she is alive. Look, he isn’t sad.
– Yes, you’re right. She’s alive and is waiting for him lying on a sofa with a book in her hands but she isn’t young any more so she fell asleep soon.
– Probably he is taking this newspaper to her.
– Yes, he is. But right now he is going to her grandchild’s concert. She is a violinist.
– Or, a pianist.
– Yes, doesn’t matter. Look, at his eyes. I think I can read what he is thinking about right now.
– I’m listening.
– He is thinking about the article he read a minute ago. He didn’t like it. It was about the orphanage. He thinks that sunny days are better than rainy ones because he doesn’t have to walk in the park alone then. He thinks about the book he read several weeks ago but can’t remember the title and he misses his late son who died in a war 10 years ago. Sometimes he thinks about his life and never about his death. He is afraid of dying. Probably he doesn’t know that he will die in 2 years because of a heart stroke.
– Or, a tumor.
– Yes, doesn’t matter. He is going to die but I can make his death beautiful.
– Won’t it be beautiful anyways?
– Yes, but no one will know about it but him.
– How come?
– Because he is going to save the life of a drowning boy, when walking alone near the river. He won’t be able to come out and will die in a river because of a heart stroke…
– Or, a tumor.
– Yes, doesn’t matter. Everyone will think he committed suicide because the boy will never show up to tell what happened. Is not it beautiful?
– Yes it is. If you don’t tell it, his wife will think he left her.
– Yes. Maybe. Look, he is going to get off.
– Okay. Come on.
– No.
– Aren’t we going to follow him?
– No.
– Why?
– …
– Don’t let IT go.
– …
– Again?
– Yes.
– It is not like previous times.
– Still.
– What happens when you find IT again?
– Perhaps I will look at IT and let go again.
– You know, I may not be here always.
– I know.
– Then, what will you do?
– Probably, I won’t even see IT.
– It’s sad. Look, IT is doing that again. It is bagging you to follow. He is looking directly at you. Don’t avoid it. Please.
– I can’t. Sorry.
– Again?
She sighed and tried to look at the voice. It was gone.
She wasn’t waiting any more.