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The Hell

The Hell
  Ana Veronica Mircea
Behind the scenes
Dear God!
varianta print

Ana Veronica Mircea

Publicat Luni, 26 Februarie 2007, ora 07:55

      “I’m sorry, Mlatlalmal, the spokesentity of The Highest Jury said. I’m awfully sorry because I’m in charge to tell you the verdict: Mlatlalmal, The Hell is waiting for you!”
      The gaseous entity of masculine type Mlatlalmal became longer, appearing like a tow, changed his color from pale-blue into carmine-red - not without wandering among multifarious transitional colors and hues, curled, contorted, knotted himself twice, and finished by becoming a spiral around the other one, who had chosen the “gray rhomboid” model - in fact, this was the model the most of the members of The Highest Jury preferred.
      “In memory of our friendship from the third existence, I won’t mention this heavy aggression in any of my reports”, the spokesentity murmured - in a solemn manner - while the extremities of his rhomboid were metamorphosed into tubular excrescences, ravaged by purple streams.
      “I didn’t intend to anger you”, Mlatlalmal apologized, withdrawing and gathering his curls into a silver globe. But I couldn’t keep my temper. The Hell is a severe punishment, I mean, a much too severe one! After all, you know me very well, Aglorbalal! I have never committed the sin of aggressiveness to such an extend, it’s not fair to send me to Hell!”
      “It doesn’t matter what I know”, Aglorbalal harshly answered. “Only what The Highest Jury knows and decides does matter! Our Highest Jury is always right, that’s why his verdicts aren’t contestable! As one who once was your friend, I advice you to abandon the silver color of the innocence and to start - at once! - on the path of expiation.”
      Mlatlalmal whistled thinly, like singing sorrow and resignation, and, stretching himself into a hesitating black stripe, he squeezed, of his own will, through the sphincter-orifice of the-well-determined-shape-and-minimal-capacity-enclosure. Behind him, the enclosure blocked its admittance, corseting him in. Being panic-stricken, he tried again and again - but useless - to dilate, until he felt exhausting. Then, on top of it all, the prison began to contract, and the gaseous entity of masculine type Mlatlalmal was condensed so much that he lost all his perceptions powers.
      When he came to his senses, he had a constant shape and a relative unchangeable volume - “Damn it, I’m preponderant solid!” - and he was captive in the darkness of a closed, flooded packet, belonging to another preponderant solid entity, on of impressive sizes. He went to and fro for a long time, coveting nothing but to break away. But he succeeded only after the prison-entity, which was supposed to be of feminine type, joined to his efforts, as if she had become unusually eager to eject him.
      All of a sudden, Mlatlalmal found himself in a strange world, where a few preponderant solid entities, each of them being as big as the one he had just lost touch with, were disgracefully moving, while others - obviously lifeless - lied motionless, but threatening solid and dangerous angular. “I’m not aggressive enough to manage in this hell!”, he said to himself, boiling with indignation; and he wanted to howl his thought, but he succeeded only to utter a strident, prolonged squeal.
      “It’s a boy! He’s the third one, Mrs. Brown, isn’t he?” one of the preponderant solid entities said, catching him with two long appendages. Although unpleasant at the beginning, the touch was apt to calm him down and to make him forget both his six former existences and his present position of convict to a life in Hell, the severest imaginable punishment!

© Copyright Ana Veronica Mircea
Sursa :   Imagikon
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