Inner Dialogue 2

From inside a swirling vortex, a thousand cascading images succumbed to gravity and fell away like someone disturbing the base of a house of cards. At the end of the vortex tunnel a circle of light appeared getting ever closer as if driven by an invisible force – a force impelling it at a colossal speed. A consciousness, a witness, an observer responsible for these events grew in confidence and power, now assured of the authentic claim to know where the story was heading toward. With a laser-like focus aimed at the end of the vortex, it suddenly rushed up to greet the observer and enveloped everything in brilliant light. The woman in red now found herself standing atop of a staircase staring at a building with an open door inviting her to walk through it into a long chamber made from gold. She quickly looked around but no other soul could be seen or heard – it was as if the city had long been deserted.

Turning back around, she studied the chamber ahead and instinctively paused again.

“What trickery is this?” she asked, firmly – suspicion in her voice.

The question hung heavy, unanswered in the air.

The woman in red shook her head in disbelief.

“We’ve already done this part or have you forgotten?”

She studied her finger nails while waiting – somewhat impatiently.

“There is no trick,” said the author, eventually. “I have written the next chapter in my story.”

“Just a minute,” she postured. “There are a few things that I need explained before I go any further. Firstly, what is this place, and what has it got to do with me?”

“You have safely entered the city without hindrance,” explained the author. “Inside the buliding you now stand before there is something you have to see, something to discover.”

“I asked what is this place? I understand the discovery part but you need to clarify the latter a bit more.”

“The building is a library erected by the ancients; all records can be found and are intact, all undamaged by the ravages of time.”

“I see,” she said, sounding more encouraged. “Why do I get the feeling that I am the only person in the city. . .am I?”

“Yes.”

“So where is everyone,” she asked, apprehension in her voice. “What happened here. . . Something bad?”

“Now you’re beginning to understand the need of your discovery in my story,” justified the author. “The reason why the city streets are deserted is for you to find out and not for me to explain. This is the whole point of the tale – this is your journey, and yours alone.”

“I see,” she replied, sounding doubtful. “But why has it fell to me to find out why, what makes me so important and special to this city?”

“Again, that is for you to find out and not for me to explain,” stated the author.

“Hmm. . .going by what you just said I must assume that I have an unspoken connection to the city – which is strange because I don’t recall ever being here before.”

“Perhaps,” said the author.

“Perhaps this, perhaps that,” she said a tad too flippantly. “It seems that you like keeping me in the dark for reasons best known to yourself, but I need to know who I am – if by name only – before we continue with this quest. I did mention this in our last conservation. . .so who am I? What is my name?”

“Your first and most common name is. . .Emily, the other titles that belong to you are waiting to be discovered.”

“At last! I have a name – so thank you for that. I’ve always liked Emily. . .how did you know?”

The author said nothing but dragged heavily from a cigarette.