Do not sit on a bench in a blue funk. Or maybe do?

  • by

She was sitting on a bench. She’d got a pretty serious case of blues. The world was painted in grey.
Some stranger had sat on the same bench. “Quite handsome”, she thought, “but who cares”? He’d looked deeply into her eyes.
“Your name is Jane”, he said. “You have a mission. Top secret. Interconnected governments of many countries have a deal with aliens. They are from planet called… What was its name”?
“I cannot tell you, it’s top secret, like you said”.
“Oh! Right”, he looked confused. “Anyway the aliens wants to stay here to live with us. I mean, their delegation, of course. Instead some of us, approximately fifty, will travel to their planet to do research”.
“Research? About what”?
“About aliens, their lives, social terms, nutrition and all that stuff. You were marked. You’ll make a diary for next fifty years. Your journey is going to start this friday”.
“And what about my family, my friends”?
“Secret service will fake your death. That’s why you’re sad”.
“Pretty good”.
“Enough to have a hug from you for good bye”?
“Maybe enough…”
“Your turn”.
“My turn? For what”?
“Tell me my story”.
“I don’t know you”.
“It’s easy. Just look in my eyes. Deeply… deeper, right into my soul… focus… ok, go”!
“It’s very sad story”.
“I know, it’s my story. Go on”.
“Your life was very boring. Each and every day the same. Dull work, lonely evenings… once… it was last month. Oh dear! You were murdered”!
“Am I immortal”?
“No, you have risen from the dead because you have a mission. Very serious and important”.
“Have they punished the murderer”?
“No victim, no crime”.
“What is my mission”?
“To give me a hug”.
“Wow! After it I can die in peace”.
They hug, went their separate ways and never met again.

Dodaj komentarz

Twój adres email nie zostanie opublikowany. Pola, których wypełnienie jest wymagane, są oznaczone symbolem *