It’s incredible. You make a crappy railway station look like Hogwarts. And she smiled like a child. Somehow, she conveyed to the outer space the image of that Hogwarts she was thinking about. It was that simple to make it come alive. Then her Hogwarts was overlapping mine. Multiple sets of visual coordinates synchronized in colorful stereoscopic imaginary land. Rounded arches, shadows, brick piers, sun rays and volatile walls, paved platforms wrapped in vanilla and sandal wood scent. High and low voices and clatter, metallic sounds, and vintage long coats running through that picture randomly. The puffs of black steam iron-horses, but no ticket booths. No schedules. No time-tables. It looked like a challenging solitary quest. Where I could find the perfect object to born a magic wand? First step: suppress logic, and then enhance poetic insanity. Choose state of mind. After that, pick up some necessary clothes. I’d like something flavored, sweet, to match perfectly a gorgeous coffee. The pier of the closest arch changed its consistency. A drawer opened up smoothly. Many items, small odd things, few spots of red. A pair of scissors is always welcomed to cut off unwanted strings attached. A small metallic box hiding within all kinds of feelings. I can see the wide puckish smile of Miss Hope sitting femininely cross-legged on that box… well, I’m curios who’s left behind now. That old piece of paper written in ink may keep inside some secrets. A white uncoupled heart holds itself on a ragged book with no boards. The queen of diamonds disguised herself in white vestal gown of Juliette, singing low an old French chant. The weed hook I may have, to catch and braid the strings and threads of world. A story like spider-web over naked skin. Almost invisible, roughly delicate, incredibly close. On the Hogwarts’ third platform from left to right, near the second pier of the third arch the time is sent away.
By the way, when do we measure the curvature of space, while travelling back or forth?
Photo: Ina Popa (c)
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