The Choice Era. Part 1. Nata Kay
suggesting what would happen next, but now she had to wait for the whole day, because there was only one new episode daily. At such cases a day was no less than eternity. «Why are they doing this to us?»
Mona got up and switched over to her household chores. She was dealing with dirty dishes for a while and then announced she was going to bed. Harry wished her good night and said that he would stay in the living room for a while. He didn’t want to sleep yet and lying in bed and wandering at the ceiling was useless, so he decided to keep watching a sports channel, for example.
«Oh, it’s that sports channel again!» Mona rolled her eyes playfully. She didn’t enjoy such channels and didn’t watch them herself, but she never refused to watch it for the company. «I wish you did sports more often instead of watching it.»
Mona left to get ready for bed and a few minutes later walked down the hallway wearing her favorite lace nightgown. She waited till Harry turned away from the TV and noticed her, then she smiled winking at him and went into the bathroom. After a while she went out, gave her husband a tender kiss and went to bed quietly closing the door behind her.
Harry turned on a tennis match. During adolescent and student years, he wouldn’t mind holding a racket in his hand. Now he wasn’t involved in any particular sport, he limited himself only to some planned trips to gym once or twice a week. With the correct training intensity, this was enough to keep a grown man in good shape.
Harry spent his spare time watching replays of memorable matches. Sometimes he got on live broadcasts, but they didn’t attach him because of his inattention to the standings and to the worthiest athletes.
And now, Harry was watching the court without interest. He wasn’t keeping track and couldn’t even say which teams play which. He only noticed that some of the strikes were very spectacular and effective. Moreover, he was noticing it rather because of the cheering and applauding loud audience, and because of the commentators, who started talking faster and more emotional.
What about Harry, then? Harry remembered that the book was still in the case and he felt almost physical need to reach it and read it to the very end.
He could hardly explain such an unexpected desire to read. Curiosity? A thirst for knowledge and new experience? Or it was sort of charm that impressed most of humanity in ancient times? Harry leaned towards the first two ideas, since he considered the style not successful and therefore not particularly attractive.
When it became quiet in the bedroom, Harry waited a few minutes, got up silently, walked to the door and listened. Mona always fell asleep quickly, and Harry had no doubt she was already plunged into her sweet dreams.
Harry tiptoed into the hallway. He left his briefcase on a couch. After a glance towards the bedroom again, he took out a book and stared at it. It was exactly the same, unless it became a few hours older. Harry curled his fingers along the spine and opened the book in the middle. He opened and closed it immediately.
«No,» he whispered and shook his head. He thought how ridiculous it was to be a man, who was unable to cope with such a trifle as simple sheets of paper decorated with simple letters.
Harry was standing with indecision for about a minute. He couldn’t find the strength to put the book back in the case, so he walked with it into the living room to the sofa. On the way to it he promised himself that he would read a few pages, just to make sure he got involved in it and worried in vain. And then he, Harry, would return the book to the case and forget about it.
In the living room Harry sat down on the sofa and quickly found where he left off at the office. Then, one thing led to another. Harry was looking tensely over the lines, stopping and rereading some of them all the time. Why was this woman doing this? This was illogical. Why did she say that? What a strange woman…
When Harry managed to look up from the book and checked at his watch, he winced. An hour and a half… He was sitting with a book for an hour and a half. He didn’t even notice how time flew by. Maybe the watch was lying? No, that was really unlikely.
Harry was still annoyed by the plot and some of the characters in the book, but their emotions made him think, made him feel his own emotions. Sometimes it happened when he was watching a movie, but now Nelson noticed that reading a book launched some mechanism in his mind, and the whole work of human fantasy started.
Harry didn’t finish the book till the end. It seemed that there was enough food for thought today. Another portion of his own untested emotions could lead to unforeseen consequences that frightened Harry like ghosts, whose existence had never been proven.
The book was back in the case. Harry didn’t want Mona to found out that her husband, despite her wishes and common sense, continued reading. It’s unpleasant to keep secrets from a wife, but it wasn’t a big secret, and Mona’s calmness was much more important than such insignificant little things.
Harry took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, cleaned himself up, undressed and tiptoed into the bedroom.
Mona was sleeping peacefully. All Harry’s confusion, anguish and worries didn’t touch her at all, and Harry was infinitely happy about it. He married Mona not to get her involved in dubious life situations.
Harry got under the blanket and laid down facing the window.
Harry wished he could fall asleep as quickly as Mona. As a rule, it took him half an hour to fall asleep.
In his dreams Harry often found himself in unexpected and difficult situations at work or in the thick of strange events in shops, restaurants and other public places. When he woke up, Harry realized how awkward the situations were, but in his dreams they looked serious and he had no idea he was sleeping.
This time Harry fell asleep surprisingly quick, though a whole bunch of thoughts in his head didn’t end up. He only looked out the window for a few minutes, and then his eyes closed themselves. Harry was rapidly plunging into another reality.
Now he was dreaming not of his work or an absurd situation. The dream was remarkably beautiful and rather picturesque. It could easily be an inspiration for photographers and artists, or a backdrop for a film about country life.
Harry was on a large field overgrown with long grass and flowers. Nobody took care of it, the grass was wild. One might feel the blades of grass and its tickling under trousers.
No paths, no beaten tracks, the grass was growing up and bending a little because of a gentle breeze. This ordinary and at the same time incredible place seemed to never be touched by a man.
Far away across the field there was a cliff, beyond which the blue sea was spreading out at the very horizon. The sound of the oncoming waves calmed an ear. The glare of the sun, peeking out of the passing clouds every now and then, mirrored in sea surface and made it shining and glittering.
Harry walked calmly towards the cliff. Not alone. He followed a woman. Why? He had no idea. He was just walking without asking her, and he had no idea who this woman was. He didn’t see her face. She didn’t turn around and Harry himself didn’t try to surpass her. He was fine with it.
The wind played with the stranger’s dark wavy hair tousling it. The woman didn’t try to fix her hair, leaving it to the wind. She didn’t look back or look around, as Harry did. Her walk embodied the tranquility that city people often lacked.
Even the stranger’s dress showed her moral distance from big cities. No, she wasn’t wearing a complicated ancient Greek toga or one of the magical dresses from the cartoons with princesses. All her clothes were the simplest jeans and a white T-shirt. There was nothing unnecessary in this girl, there wasn’t a drop of fuss in her.
She was barefoot. Even in a dream Harry thought that walking in bare feet on such a ground must be painful, but the woman walked confidently.
Harry and the stranger didn’t reach the cliff. Space in the dream was distorted, and absence of time made the field huge like almost infinity. No matter how much Harry followed ahead,