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The New World of Abundance

by Rikke Kramme 4 months ago in Mystery / Sci Fi
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The final destination

Photo by UnKknown Traveller on Unsplash

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. What does that even mean? If I were in space with someone else, I wouldn’t be able to hear them scream and vice versa? Could I hear the sound of my own scream? Could I maybe stop having this conversation right now, and get the h*ll out of my head? Space is clearly NOT where I am.

The train had stopped while I was gone - not physically, but in my mind. I went for a long trip far away from this train, which I had no idea how I ended up on, and there was still no indication of where - if at all - it would stop.

The best I was able to do for myself and my mental health was to breathe. I just breathed and listened to the soothing voices of Elton John and Eric Clapton (on repeat, over and over) ♫ “Found a way home written on this map like red dye in my veins“

But now the train had stopped, the tunes ditto, and there were no signs of the 26 children I’d counted or the woman wearing the heavy perfume. Thank god for that - I prefer to ride solo on this “journey” or whatever the f*ck it is rather than being with someone, I already dislike for their smell.

I know, I sound crazy but I never claimed to be like the rest of them. I do not need people in my life if it means I have to put up with all kinds of sh*t that annoy me, like bad perfume, irritating voices, noises, laughter, ignorance, and lack of empathy (no, you’re wrong - I’m a very empathetic person), bad humor, poor judgment, narrowmindedness, and I could go on.

Not too long ago, I promised myself to get rid of all the people who were bringing me down or who weren’t sharing my hopes and dreams for the future. It just became too hard to deal with, and I was done with hard. I grew up with hard, most of my childhood and adolescence was so, so hard, and way up in my 40s everyday life was hard, because I didn’t fit in any boxes. People don’t like that. They like to know what label to put on you, and me…

I guess I’m labelless.

No juice on my phone, darn it. That means there is no way to reach home, AND no music either. Music is always my go-to in times of chaos - but now I guess, I have to make it with my breathing exercises only.

Well, I can't stay here forever, though the train had in some weird way become a sanctuary. As long as I was here, nothing happened. My fear of the unknown I could control with music and breathing, as long as the train kept moving. I had no clue how long the trip had taken; no watch on my arm, no clock on the train, and no phone to tell the time.

I was timeless.

And famished.

I went outside to find the scenery in front of me astounding beyond comparison. I was in awe.

Being a philocalist, this was more than I could bear. I was overflowing with emotions, and there was nothing else to do but just let go. A calm came over me as I’d never experienced. I fell to my knees and sobbed while the zephyr gently caressed my face.

How could I feel melancholic, like I was finally where I was supposed to be when I didn’t know where I was? This was the place I’d envisioned during my daily meditations, but it wasn’t real. How could it be? I made it up in my mind, my querencia.

I was placeless.

“You’re a glowstick”, I whispered to myself. “You broke but now it is your time to shine bright”.

MysterySci Fi

About the author

Rikke Kramme

All Things Curious | INFJ | Mother & Wife | Selfsabotage coach | Hypnotherapist | Teacher | Lover of interesting conversation, music, film, reading, writing, teaching, learning, fermenting, walking, coffee, and cats | Must laugh every day🌸

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