A INNER JOURNEY pROGRAM.
By Henric Johansson
"It is the first and the last hour that determines the quality of the other 22."
Henry Miller awoke from the sounds of the alley outside. Like a fly against glass, the sounds were whirring around. The body was wet with sweat and the sheets stuck. The tongue felt swollen and the lips were broken. He sat up. The painting on the easel stared at him. The eyes tried to follow the lines and forms. The colors were strong. The motif was the woman on the other side. The woman who every night danced naked behind thin curtains. The head was weighing too much and a wedge of ice was stuck to the forehead. Cold water and end of soap. The face in the mirror was gray. Henry closed the heavy gate behind him. Squeeze into the alley and steered their steps towards the small square. People pushed and stressed out to find meaningless jobs. The air was damp and the alley was narrow. The shoulders fought against each other and someone blew smoke in the face of Henry. He shouted and pulled the rock closer around him.
The small square consisted of many small stalls. Small insignificant booths with everything between heaven and earth. Flowers marry fruit and ground-chilled vegetables. The smell of soil and moisture rested intensely on Henry's nose. He picked up tomatoes, chanterelles, onions and some bunches of fresh spices. Slowly the square began to be filled by older people who, for their few pennies, tried to haggle as much as possible. Henry walked to the butcher's store and felt the cold raw pieces of meat hanging from an iron pipe. The smell of blood and slaughter. Big hands wrapped in minced meat into paper. Henry pointed to a large piece of meat, paid the butcher and turned around. In the hustle and bustle of people he could see her blonde hair. He tried to push forward to see her better. For a moment he got eye contact with her, so she was gone.
“She slowly danced with small, daring movements. Her wades were stretched when she reached high on her toes with her arms against the ceiling. Her skin burned and a faint smell of the sulfur camp room. She listened to the voices that sang her deeper into trans. Small words of simple meaning. The voice, the deep of the choir marked pulse and rhythm. Deeper, down, more, slowly, now she closed and saw the man on the other side for her interior. Behind her eyelids she saw his zeal with brush and color. How he painted the whole evening and wandered around the nude so when, as on a lapel, tied around the waist. She let her hands stroke her body and she felt her heart beat faster. The cracked skin on her back and the tension that arose made her breast stiffen. Suddenly she was out on the balcony and her legs were full of lust. She felt the liberation when her back opened and suddenly she stood on the railing with her bare feet and opened her eyes. On the other side, she saw the man lying in his bed. She threw herself out… ”
Henry put his goods down on the kitchen table. He wiped away sweat from his forehead. The simple kitchen soon smelled of food that Henry loved to cook. The scent of fresh vegetables and meats being browned with garlic and butter. He opened a glass of wine and pulled the aroma through his nose. Let the wine circulate in his mouth before he swallowed firmly. He would paint the painting clearly as soon as possible. The color needed to dry before he could get it sold. He needed the money. A few hours later, Henry sat on the chair in front of the easel. The fire in the fireplace had again made him throw away his clothes. He bet on the brush shaft. Outside, the alley had sunk into darkness and the sky above the houses was gray yellow. Smoke rose from most chimneys and created beautiful shades. Henry got up from his chair and brought the wine glass to the window. He sat down in the wide window frame and drank a deep sip. It was burning in the stomach and Henry knew it wasn't quite healthy. He looked over to the other side. Off lights and dark windows. Only in the dancing woman's apartment was there a faint light lit. He tried to look through the thin curtains ... the light was too weak. He sharpened his gaze. Suddenly he saw her. She seemed to float. Henry was drawn into her movements. His gaze flattened to get hold of her body. Her hair fell over her shoulders and suddenly she was out on the balcony. She stretched her arms over her head. Henry's ability to notice details enjoyed his gaze. Then she suddenly was balance the railing. Henry dropped the glass in the floor. He met the woman's gaze for a second before she threw herself out. Henry tore up the big window and tried to look down the alley after the woman. He trampled in red wine and glass while shouting down the alley. He couldn't see her. There was none. It was quiet, empty and dark.
"She banged her wings strongly and soon reached the beautiful valley she knew so well. She landed on the beach at the wild river. Soon Marius would come and she would tell him about the man who painted. " Henry dropped to the floor. Room rushed around. Chapter 2. "It's not at night you are in prison, its in daytime." The color dried slowly. Henry stared at the subject. The brush shaft in the mouth began to slowly dissolve and the taste of wood spread in the oral cavity. The cheekbones moved in symbiosis with his intense biting. He spit out a piece of the shaft. A piece of glass was still stuck under his foot and he could feel the adrenaline rush every time he lowered his heel to the floor. A rush ... pain. His hands shook easily. The back was straight. He closed his eyes and his thoughts wandered back to yesterday's event. "Her feet landed on the velvety beach. She pulled in her wings and shook her hands. It happened that they were numb when she flew fast. The speed was so great to feel and it sucked in her stomach every time she quickly dropped off from the high altitude she was traveling on. Suddenly Marius stood in front of her. His gaze ... penetrating and totally loving. The neck with the visible veins. The blood that was blue and pulsed in harmony with the energy he sent out. She looked back into his eyes. She could feel the blush that came over her cheeks. Thighs that became warm, hands pulsed. Marius took one step closer to her and their energies joined together and soon there was a single light sea without contours. ”
Henry could see the woman jumping out of the balcony for her interior. The railing that swayed when her feet shot away. The body that groped the air and so ... he remembered nothing more. Had everything just been a dream? Henry cries. The fire had burned out in the fireplace and a cold draft from the floor was leaking into the legs. He raised his right foot and removed the piece of glass. Blood penetrated for a moment but saliva and a slight pressure with the thumb stopped it. He got up and went out into the kitchen. Drink a glass of water and start picking with the counter. The rest of the day was spent cleaning and arranging the apartment. He found wood in the basement and raised some lashes. The fire burned and some candles gave the room great warmth and tranquility. Henry set up a new canvas on the easel and began painting.
“Marius retired. The light sea disappeared and they were again two human-like creatures on a beach. Marius said with deep voice; Mia ... you got the job. The man who paints has four truths that will come to light. You will help him. He can't handle himself. You know what to do. There are rumors that the blacks are after him. Don't let them succeed. Have you understood? She nodded and thought to ask a question when Marius suddenly knocked out his wings, threw himself back and lifted quickly toward the sky. She stood for a while before she lifted herself and returned home. ”
Henry swallowed the last piece of meat and washed down with wine. He had been painting for several hours and the hunger had suddenly stuck to his stomach. He wanted to look at people. His head needed noise. He always got that recoil after painting. His introvert I suddenly turned into an extrovert monster. He went out and small ran down to the square. The beds were closed for the day but the shops were open. A hotel with the Grand Hotel Magenta shot caught his look. He went in and sat down at the bar. Her legs were kissed by black silk. The high sharp heels of the black lacquer shoes scratched against the bar stool's footrest. Her dark red dress fell beautifully over her breast. The dark short hair cut out the long neck. The chain fell down cold against her hot skin.
She knew glances stuck on her back. Two scars that went vertically down her back. Two small depressions in her back. She drank gin with a smile. Her hands cupped the glass. She breathed still. Every breath was meant as an invitation to the man sitting next to her. He had ordered a glass of wine and nodded to her. That is all. The minutes wandered and they both sat in their own world. When she turned to him, he did the same to her. Their eyes meet. He smiled at her and she smiled back. Not a word was said. The music in the background blurred the silent gap and the energies slowly began to pull them together as a fishing net in the depths of the ocean. She suddenly got up. Drank the last out of the glass and walked out.
Henry felt uneasy. It was as if the air suddenly became cold. He looked after the woman who got up and left. Her open dress showed a beautiful back. He chiseled her lines and wanted to paint. Already as a child he had had the gift of seeing lines no one else saw. He could remember wrinkles, arms and movements of people he should have long forgotten. He turned to the bartender and ordered a new glass of wine. It was then he saw the Elevator.
He toked the wineglass with him went to the elevator. For a moment he could feel a heavy scent of perfume. He pressed the button that opened the doors. He stepped in and closed his eyes. He saw the woman throwing herself out of the balcony in front of him. When he opened his eyes again he could see 8 buttons. One for each floor.
4. Beliefs & Values
Henry swallowed and felt a desire to know more. He knew this was just the beginning. He pressed the number 1 button and with a dull metallic sound the lift started its journey up. A beautiful melody played and when it plunged and the doors went up, Henry saw something he would never forget ...
To be continued...
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