On the Wings of Hope: Prose

Time

Immense hourglass of a silvery color, which were smoothly soaring in the center of a hall, were slowly passing tiny grains of sand through themselves, gradually rotating in the process of own unstoppable work. They counted remained time prior to one extremely important by galactic measures event.

Tic. Tac.

Having passed through the neck of the hourglass, grains fell on the bottom and were instantly dissolved, as if they have never before existed. As if the time doesn’t exist inside the borders of eternity.

Multiple projections of these clocks of the Highest World – one for each of the physical worlds – were ticking own time, following their step.

Tic. Tac.

Clocks could not be stopped, but it was possible to slow down some of its projections.

Solar years of physical worlds replaced one another, eras came after eras, and clocks were going as always, reducing the number of remaining grains with each of their measured tact.

Tic. Tac.

Time kept everything in itself. But someone must be the keeper of time.

“Come in,” answered the sitting in a chair aged man, having turned away from the contemplation of galactic charts and slowly moved his head towards the two-way portal, which was also serving as a doorway to this mysterious room, once the melodious ringing, notifying of the new approaching human soul, spread in the air.

A second later the hologram of a form materialized before the aged man, in which this newly arrived individual was planning to live and pass through his next – and this time fate-deciding – journey in the physical world.

“You may enter,” the Keeper repeated once again. “Even though I can wait for you for the whole eternity, the planned time of your birth and related circumstances don’t plan to wait that long, I am afraid.”

With these words he waved a hand, drawing in the air only to him known figure, and sparkling in violet-blue color sphere materialized directly before him, and out of it stepped away – or, to be slightly more correct – almost dropped out on the filled with light silvery fog floor, newly arrived traveler.

“I… what… where… ooh!” could barely utter the guest, once he managed to rose from the knees after that in many meanings dizzy travel. “What sort of teleporters you are having here… they throw you here and there all the way around. I still remember how ten centuries ago, shortly before my penultimate birth…”

“Sit down,” the aged man interrupted him, and, having waved with own four wings, materialized before the guest’s eyes a second chair from out of nowhere. “Are you here on a mission or do you just desire to grumble?”

“I… well… from the department… that decides destinies,” still faltering from slight short wind, murmured the person. “Directed here for the purpose of correction of former mistakes in physical worlds with a high-risk value. To the Earth, inside the Milky Way galaxy.”

“Is that so?” the aged man ironically raised his eyebrow. “So many travelers were planning to visit it recently. So eager to be born,” he smiled lightly. “Special times, they say. Made many mistakes, they say. Last fate-deciding birth they are having, they say. The question of the potential future immortality of their souls, they say. Well, we shall observe how you will manage the time of this life of yours.”

Having that said, he once again made a swift pass of own hands, and the shining book gradually fell down to them.

“Well, let’s have a look at what you have planned for yourself,” having ironically shaken his head, answered the aged man, thumbing through pages of the book of lives of his newly arrived guest. “This time you are going to be a scientist, as I can see? To make new discoveries in the field of non-material, to promote science to spiritual heights? Well, very laudable, indeed. You are now the twenty-third such desirous one for the last ten earth years. I can tell you in advance that eighteen of them didn’t become scientists at all, having broken their unearthly contract and exchanged themselves on, as it can be spoken, little things. You, I do hope, have no desire to act like that, right?” and the aged man searchingly looked at his guest.

“N… no. Not… going to,” having slightly been taken aback from such unexpected admission, murmured the guest. “I will become a scientist as I have planned.”

“Then I can only wish you not to turn away from your spiritual path under the pressure of external circumstances. And they, believe my experience, will surely arise in your life – especially if you are going to Earth. Estimated duration of your life is… sixty earth years. Do you plan to be in time?” and the aged man once again fixedly looked at this future scientist.

“Yes… I plan to. I will be of little use being too old, anyway.”

“If you curtail from your way – it’s possible that we will take you before the term. We find little value in unrealized souls, to a great regret. Time and tide wait for no man.”

“Time is the fourth dimension, so to speak,” the guest smiled in reply.

“Actually, it’s the seventh,” corrected him the Keeper, “but you should first master at least three of them. Whether you remember specifics of clocks working?” and the aged man specified by a wave of his hand a huge soaring in the air hourglass, which were continuing to gradually tick their unique eternity rhythm.

“Hmm… specifics?”

“Time is non-linear. Even within the lifespan of a single embodied soul, it can change its speed – and, in rarest occasions, own direction. If you start implementing undertaken here obligations – time will slow down for you, and you will be able to finish more – possibly, much more than was initially planned. If you curtail from your path – time will rush as in a gallop, year after a year, up to the moment of a sharp termination of your life term, of which you will, most certainly, won’t even remember by that time.”

“And how will I… learn of what I am destined to achieve? Of the features of time? At the moment of that new birth, I will be forced to forget everything of my former past.”

“We will remind you of that through the writer. We remind someone through circumstances and someone through dreams. Some are already beyond help and reminding.”

“Seems clear enough.”

“Fine. Then please try on your personal watch.”

With these words, the Keeper put away from his glowing attire the small watch on a thin strap and stretched them to the guest.

“Sixty earth years, as we have agreed – if circumstances don’t change. Shortly before the end of your term, you will be able to feel how these watches start ringing and vibrating – that means that your time is running out. Don’t be afraid, put them on your hand.”

“In such moments you start feeling yourself like a time bomb,” the guest admitted confusedly.

“You should better ‘blow up’, in a good sense, the earth world of materialistic scientific ideas.”

“It’s done,” reported the guest, having clasped a strap of watches on his hand.

“I remind you the circumstances of your birth – poor family, kind mother, cruel father, sick younger brother and a loving elder sister.”

“Now I should manage not to forget all that when I am only one-two years old, and all I can really do is to piss under my shoes!” the guest burst out laughing on his move, walking to the opening portal.

“Time starts ticking,” replied the Keeper, observing how the revealed in the hall portal embraces the soul of future earth inhabitant. “It never ceases to go,” he added.

Tic. Tac.

The clocks as if answered to his thoughts.

They had no power only over immortal ones.

15.10.2017