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go to prophesy in the cellar II

a "continuation", which was created more out of inspiration and in response to an artwork by nothing noir, which in turn took its inspiration from my first story. To perfect the recursion: The basic idea for Emerson and his teacher (originally alchemist) comes from nothing noir.

mist hung tough and scattered over the shore as their thoughts. Nora Winters swayed and wafted weightless in their fight for balance, the right focus for their concentration.

rushing water as the nearby cliffs into the deep mountain pond collapsed. The stones were smooth by centuries. Old stones and deep water for countless miles innocent country. The fuse box next to the door to the boiler room they should wipe again.

Whether the men who came to power and water meters to be read - the exact job title Nora could never remember - for them messy stopped because they did not cleaned the basement? Power Man and Aquarius, it decided to mind. Was it redundant to call it different if it was the same man often and also to some extent, a current could be water?

"You are now leaving the in favor of the here," said the shaman from the branch of an old oak. "Search for the addition ."

For a moment the shaman saw it as a quirky owl round of their road down. With two hundred seventy degrees zurückgespanntem head to the distance of the horizon away to look at her. Then shot her crystal-clear view as through a snap lock back into the distance. On the road with dangling legs was again an ageless woman.

dangling echoed it in Nora's head. Does that mean it like that because things were in an archaic language archetype usually hang down from trees, while 'dangling'?

"You leave the game in favor of the word," intoned the voice of the shaman again as directly into her head.

"I leave all equal before the cellar in favor of a hair appointment, which I now probably too late come, especially if I stay even longer also here. "

The fire in a hollow of flat stones cracked as if it were angry about their testimony. The fire is understood not fun.

"The fire is a very serious creature full of burning zeal and fervent passion. It is too narrow-minded to the point, to shake of jokes can be compromise or admit, "the shaman attacked again with fingers faked her thoughts. "Just like your attempt at your fragile and brittle bleached to save hair. What is dead to rest, should and you should get over it. Appealing to a short hairstyle. You will soon come back into fashion. "

Nora unfolded her legs and stretched. Emerson whimpered softly touched by the fire, but did not.

"I'll take any case against any advice from someone who evokes the elements of fire, two meters distance from the fuel tank." She blinked a little thought into the sunrise, like a glove over the Waschkü surface shone. "Let alone connected her half-naked next to apprentice said fire added. "animated

As of its mention by Nora Emerson muttered something to himself, after the" melt the cheese. I believe I have to laugh "sound. She was not sure, however, as the apprentice of the shaman spoke even more quietly and less distinct than usual. He seemed to be such a charming young man - and blindfolded in the firelight very nice to see. He carries a loincloth and underpants? Her casually went through my head.

"He thus combines the old and the new world." The shaman slipped down from her tree branch and landed easily on his feet.

"half-naked and sweating in his underwear?"

"Emerson is prepared to do more for the true view as your extraneous efforts to gain knowledge incidentally, if you do in the daily plan fits. "

" I wanted to sail actually prefer, "came from Emersons mumbling direction.

"His trance beyond your everyday self-realizations. If the intention really of no value, as long as no effective action to follow? Which brings my hair cut facial features to advantage? Which pants best concealed my thighs? "The shaman continued without coming out of the rest.

"So, I guess, Emerson is also just half naked, in order not to deal with such things."

"Not at all. I wear his trance like live on the Internet. So I finance the additional costs. Thanks again, you're stopped by to lend me your digicam. "

She remembered again why they ever come down was. Nora's mouth moved slowly as they await suitable words which must be only from a specially created gland words shot out and choked up. They finally gave up and turned, shaking his head to go.

Emerson was humming softly to himself as a dragonfly.

"You should also take the bus, the tram will get stuck because of icy rails half way."

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Neunfemünde

There must be a coincidence or a spontaneous combination of words that makes everything better. If not, then at least easier. The magic phrase or an unexpected event, which shut out, which is not clean and correct.

The elimination of the possibility of misunderstandings. The identity of body and mind without painful education and the errors of the dialectic. The direct encounter with the other and strangers who needed neither the means nor the medium.

clarity of thought. Opposition Lose emotions. And a unity of feeling and thinking.

all pure escapism. They are not, this spontaneity, the cleaning accident. In Consideration is to draw only the next pebble on a pile of problems.

It all sounds very clever so far? Do not worry. You'll get. Appearances are deceptive.

The first thing you need to know about me is that I have anything telling me does not happen again! Please. The whole crazy stuff and the boring routines, I can not list as my daily report. I could, but I can not. Stories, stories. Not just fast-drivel with a joke and thirteen punctuation marks in each paragraph. What I tell and what I experience is not just entertainment. Not just a blog.

You say I'm blogging now, so it's just a blog? Why do I start a blog if I want to write a blog? Go die. Or tweet. Whatever your attention span can handle.

If you take it, I told you a thing or two to tell.

I consider it a blessing that the only school in my town has a flat roof that can be entered without further notice. I'm obviously not in this school. I am twenty-six and, like working, but there are just so precious few high buildings in this city.

If Hell were an ordinary place, then it is a medium sized town, trapped in a narrow valley in which it is reasonably everything and absolutely nothing happens. This form of Hell is probably also Neunfemünde. There are only a limited number of combinations of letters, to name a damn place like it. The roof of the school

Neunfemündener comprehensive school, I am lying on houses, six floors below it and is it the tallest building in the city. In the absence of a creative construction concept for several school buildings, the city administration, as I can remember, just piled up on the school like a pie. It looks like a modern hospital and I can only wish to leave each patient soon his sick bed and the city may be.

is now the school by the last undecided young people to languish on the farm in the sun like fallen fruit, completely empty. Even the most avid readers have left the library and are home to the moth light of their computer screens fled. It goes on to six clock. It's Friday. There is no darn reason to be in a school. I'm here because I openly and honestly nothing better to I know what to do.

Also, I see from here all over the city and likes the big picture. It's like an oversized village which has forgotten stop growing and slowly wanders up the mountain slopes. I think I hate nothing more than this place, my hometown, and am still here.

It dawns before and I must watch how the light from the street lamps like a net over my view, raises I get myself and make my way home. In my apartment. I will not see in Neunfemünde as my home. Should I worry To make clear that I must correct myself - or that it is to me important to me to have to correct?

I walk with awkward steps, stiff and numb from the long lying around, through the dark corridors of the school building and climb stairs to stairs. Only two or maybe even a year ago I joined a lot of mixed feelings and impressions with an empty school building in the twilight of dawn. The Hall, the long corridors, as the emptiness of God and man leave. The upsurge, somewhere between longing, madness and confinement, of feelings. The question, as is sex in a classroom have. In fact, this is all for me now just 'a lot of mixed feelings and impressions' which are recorded in my memory, but not skip. Penetration. High cooking. I can not even choose my favorite image of incredible emotions and thoughts. They are stored in folders and card indexes, resting in a locked filing cabinet of my memory.

am As I previously touched by these programs - even as I was already out of school - and knew nothing better to do with myself, it was always with me be swept away like a stream. A river of memories, perhaps of my youth or classmates, but not even that: the last time. School. A portion of my life that seemed forever and then incredibly far away, so I could hardly bear inexplicably.

Meanwhile, more than five years later, seems to me that tragic sense of distance from pretty ridiculous. On the other hand, I lack - as to so much - just the reference. At that time the slogan that I hertrug behind me like a banner yet, 'I miss the past, not live in the present and am afraid of the future. " Today it seems easy to care. 'I'm not good at something' reactions and thoughts circulating in my very high. It can be applied, sadly, to a surprising number of areas.

I leave you with the thoughts of the last glass door behind me like ghosts, haunt the school-house. The door does not close properly concluded already in my time not right and deep in my heart I am convinced that lives somewhere in this teaching hall, a wise hermit, just with the intention of a TUE r holds open that people like me find their way onto the roof. Perhaps will he simply keep only the way to the only place in 50 miles radius open, from which one can jump with a realistic chance at the death.

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go to prophesy in the basement

In Nora Winters' cellar lived a shaman. She was not imprisoned there or was being held against their will, but was once stranded on their trip there and to stay very firmly. Her world was now there, would have said more appropriate. Their domain. In addition, its extravagant 4ZKB - Apartment. Its doors to the realms of the elements. Your apprentice.

details sighed Nora. The shaman was there and made no move so soon to disappear. No sense in trying to change something, what it is and to also participate in the rental charges.

That being said, Nora had to admit, there was very little wrong with the shaman: no noise and no complaints of noise nuisance, since their domain was not perceptible from the outside. Nora heard the incantation chants and rituals midnight until she entered the basement. Sometimes she came here when she could not sleep and the rattle of drums and listened to the old boiler bubbling until they grew tired. Sometimes the shaman

sent her apprentice Emerson, a shaky deer up, to give her bottles with Pink-sickly liquid. Nora had rejected attempts thanks and disgusted, but on rainy day week ends she found herself with an empty bottle on the couch again, watching the ceiling goldfish and palpitations.

When they went to work in the morning, then met her many times, the shaman of the bins. They scooped the fish heads and pointed out other marine animals, in addition to the worn patches of old talismans, in the dreary waste unit of the remaining residents.

She was honest and straight and leaning on a gnarled yet overcome Cane. The shaman gave Nora to the chin, but cast a long shadow. Smiling, she told her the day before the weather before their paths diverged. Nora had to get the tram - the shaman back to their domain.

Sometimes when she startled at night from a restless dream, believed Nora hear the drums can be very quiet. Less out of the cellar, but much more in her head. Maybe they needed roommates.

"Shaman" asked Nora. She was on a visit to the tea lady, and both were ageless on the banks of a clear stream, which flowed down in a green valley. Emerson Ceiling hung on the opposite bank and ponchos in vibrant colors to dry. "Can you point to tell me how I find the man of my dreams?"

"You should go outside more and more opportunities opened up, not always put to weigh before you you decide. You should also not expect too much and assume that the person you meet, the same fears cherishes. It also does not hurt more stripes to wear. "

" That sounds like the advice of a life coach and not according to a prophecy. "Nora turned up his nose.

"That's it. I am blessed with second sight. "

" And how do I recognize a true friend to whom I can entrust all my fears and painful madness? "

" Do not expect that a person on know all the answers without you up against him and open your msg. The insight can only be as deep as your nakedness. "

Nora shook meaningless the head. emptied

While the shaman the dregs of the two earthen Tonbecher in the river, Nora was already up and had her skirt smoothed.

"I must move slowly. My new roommate should arrive soon. "

" Get yourself a pizza with mushrooms Antalia's when you get hungry later. It is not now too salty. "