Atle Zeiner

fredag 5. januar 2018

SOMETHING

I like magic! One early morning I was dreaming. That is I believed I was dreaming. I heard some early morning birds chirping so I am not sure. When I turned around in bed there was a small box there. A real box. It seemed to be empty. Nothing rattled inside. I opened the box and discovered some crumpled papers. Something was written on the papers, and I started reading chapter 1.

SOMETHING

- There is something, John said.

- Something? Jill answered. - I can neither see nor hear anything. I guess it is your imagination. There is nothing.

- There is something!

- I cannot see anything.

- You are not looking!

- Don’t be a fool!

- You mean I am a fool, John said, almost stuttering.

- Why not? Everybody is a fool sometimes. That is a fact. You don’t know when sometimes occur. It can be now, tomorrow or next year. You never know. Maybe today is your day?

- You are joking. I would appreciate if you could stop interrupting and let me do the talking. Where was I!

- You saw something.

- There was something. That was what I said. Don’t interrupt!

- Sorry.

- I want to lie down in the grass and wait for the something to come back. If you want to, there is room for you, too. Just close your eyes and keep your mouth shut.

Some minutes passed. A light breeze rustled in the treetops. A few bumblebees were buzzing around.

- There is something from the past. Something long forgotten and not remembered, John whispered.

- Cannot be! Now is now, and that is it!

- Could you please stop talking?

- OK.

At first there was only a shape not easily discerned from the trunks of the trees. Then a man emerged. He had long unshevelled hair and wore rustic clothes. In his left hand he held onto an axe. The axe was bloody. He looked around as if he felt there was danger lurking not far away.

- Where am I, the man asked as he saw John and Jill.

- You are here, John answered.

- Is this the Sherwood Forest? It does not look like.

- Kind of, John said, - that is, what is left of it. I guess you are safe, but I do not feel safe when you are carrying that axe.

The man let the axe fall down in the green grass.

- Where do you come from, John asked.

- That is a long, a very long story. I think there is not time enough to tell that story. By the way, which year is it?

- New year was just a few days ago. We are in January 2018. But who are you? Your clothes show that you are not really at home in our time?

- Thank you! No, this is not my time. My time is – what can I say? I am a time traveller. Sometimes here, other times there.

The man looked anxiously around.

- I have to leave now.

Then he disappeared from view behind a tree and was gone.