A cliché applies to all writers. They drink to write. Unfortunately I have run out of alcohol long before I begin to write this letter. Maybe that’s why it took me so long to type the first “A”. BUT I have discovered a new way to lose myself lately. I buy perfumes which contain various types of wood scents. I smell them and trip to another dimension. Silly I know, but it’s fascinating how wet wood can replace your smell. When I smell wet wood I realize it’s not YOU I really miss. I miss my roots. Maybe I was a tree in my previous life. Maybe you were my roots in this life. Anyway.
An hour ago (maybe it was more, these days I’m losing track of time) I inhaled a generous dose of my favorite scent. I obviously overdid it, because the scent transformed into a heavy cloud. It blurred everything around me. I couldn’t breathe. I was being swallowed by this wonderful but vicious aroma… it was the smell of the future. It had to be. Because when I finally managed to get some oxygen in my lungs I found myself sitting in the back seat of a car. Not any car. A limo.
The limousine crossed through weird looking mountains; green, steep but humanly shaped. I felt we were driving on various parts of a titanic female body. From time to time we passed by various villages. Each time we left a village behind us, I saw fires lighting up and burning down everything. Trees, houses, parked cars... I realized that those fires had to do with my passing. I was doing this. But no matter how much I wanted to stop this disaster, I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. I wasn’t driving the car and I had no access to the wheel. I and the driver were separated by a dark opaque glass. I shouted to him but he wouldn’t listen to me. Eventually we reached a stunning estate; large entrance, acres of land, paved roads, all leading to an imposing temple.
The limo stopped right outside the temple. My door opened automatically. Coming out, I saw other limos arrive. Men with black tuxedos entered the church with their heads bowed. My legs got heavy. I sensed that what brought us there was not a pleasant or fortunate event. Despite the formality and the glamour, sadness prevailed. I stood at the side of the temple for a long time. Undecided, just watching people arrive. A man around forty (or more), chubby and casually dressed, approached me.
“What’s going on here?” I asked him before he gets the chance to talk to me.
“Why don’t you go in and see for yourself? She is waiting for you” he said and motioned me to walk with him.
We didn’t enter through the main entrance like the others. He took me to the back of the temple and unlocked a big metal door that led to the sanctuary. When we got inside I got bedazzled. Never in my whole life had I seen such thing. It was huge. Everything in the church was made out of carved wood and covered in pure glowing gold. The structure of the building resembled a Byzantine Empire church, but it wasn’t. I turned my head up. The ceiling was so far up, that the light coming through the windows at the top was as strong as the sun – the rooftop had become one with the sky. The man urged me to pay attention. He showed me an open coffin standing in the middle of the church.
Terrified and with great hesitation I approached the coffin. A thin old lady with short grey hair slept in it. She definitely wasn’t dead; she had a healthy color and the skin of her face looked smooth but tight. You couldn’t tell her age from the face, but the wrinkle on her neck and hands betrayed her. She was wearing a ridiculous for her age, flashy pink satin dress.
“Who is she?” I asked.
“You don’t recognize her?”
“No”
“Shame” he sighed “shame, because you are her only relative”.
“She knows me? Really?!”
“Not only she knows you, but she wants you to have everything that’s hers”. Judging by the limos and the number of people coming to bid farewell, she seemed really rich and important.
“Could it be that I have just become a millionaire?” I thought and a smile escaped from my lips. The man read my thought.
“Don’t rejoice yet. It’s not that simple. You will have to pass through many fires before you acquire what belongs to her!”
Suddenly, a big hole opened on the floor just a few feet away from me - right in front of the main entrance. Flames came out of the hole. It goes without saying that I didn’t go close. I’m not crazy to throw myself in hell! But on the other hand, I couldn’t let this opportunity to fly away. So I protested.
“But why? Why should I go through this? If I am the only relative she has, I have a right to her belongings! If I don’t inherit her fortune, who will?”
“No one. If you fail to win all that is intended for you, then they will burn in the very fire that you refused to cross.”
The man disappeared leaving me alone with the old goose." I bet she’s going to wake up in a minute and laugh at me". The cloud dissolved, oxygen reached my brain and my lungs and I was home again. I looked around me. No car, no church, no old goose. Just me with myself and the perfume bottle in my right hand.
Now I’m left with the impression that maybe this woman in the coffin… I’ve never seriously thought of death before today. And even if I did, I never thought it’d be like this. No, I don’t want it to be like this. I don’t want to be my only relative! Maybe I should beg you to forgive me for all that I’ve done to you…Beg you to come back.
But despite the tremble, despite the fear of loneliness, I still don’t know; what is wealth and what is not? Is love the fire or the gold? Should love require heroism? Is it bravery to drive oneself into the flames instead of driving away from them? Is it fair, to have to overcome your human nature to avoid being alone?
Maybe I’ll inhale another dose of earthly emotion. Maybe I’ll get an answer to my question.
I can’t live without fire, but how can I withstand its burning?
Acrylics on canvas 120x100cm
Original artwork and original story by @mariandavp