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Dec 18

After the Fall by Erik Sharp

For a Christmas Eve, the air is eerily still. Everything is quiet, but it is the kind of quiet one experiences in an unknown darkness, like in a haunted house for instance, but without fear. The streets are empty. There is no one in sight, no noises from wandering animals, the humming of life’s activities, silenced. One light flickers in a semi- on/off fashion. It’s a neon “open” sign, but the “o” doesn’t seem to be working. These are my first observations after the great flash of light. What was that light? Difficult to remember, difficult to remember anything at all.

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I move toward the sign, and the door below it. My senses seem numbed, hazy, trippy some would say, it’s almost as if I am only observing, yet I am definitely still one with some sort of body. My movement is very fluid, effortless, but shifty, like I am half here and half there. I try to focus but realize I am perfectly focused. “Just relax,” I tell myself. The fact that I am alone here doesn’t seem to register. I stop, I make sure I am awake. I am, but am I? This scene is not real, none of this looks familiar, maybe a lucid dream, I feel very content here. I am now at the door, the dim lights flashing down on me. I look at my reflection, which resembles some sort of neon indian. It’s me, but it isn’t exactly. Hmmm,… what is happening here?

The silence is shattered by a ringing. The ringing is coming from the the other side of the door. My reflection becomes it’s own entity and invites me in. I am hypnotized by it, and there is nothing to hold me back. I feel like I need to follow it, I open the door. I am inside a small bar, very small. The door disappears behind me. I notice but it seems to mean nothing. I go forward, there is the ringing again. What is this ringing coming from? Ah, there it is. I see there is a small phone on the bar. Where is the bartender? And what kind of bar is this? The bottles look unfamiliar and resemble vials and ampoules that some chemist or alchemist might use. There are glasses for drinking though. This is odd, where is everyone? It is so quiet. Then the phone rings again.

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I am now sitting. There is no recollection of going from standing to sitting but nevertheless, here I am, perched on a barstool. The phone rings again. I put my head on the bar, eyes on my arm. I need to think and remember. This is too real to be a dream, but too dreamy to be real. Where am I and what is this place and where the hell is everyone else? I raise my head and open my eyes. There is someone on the other side now, my bartender maybe? The phone rings. I cannot make out this figure’s features, yet they seem to be right in front of me. “Hello,” I say. I get no answer. The phone rings. I make a gesture like a wave and say, “Who are you? What is this?” Again, no answer, no movement, nothing. The phone rings again.

“Please,” I utter, “Please talk to me. I do not know what has happened.” The figure turns their head slightly, as if perplexed by my sense of helplessness. I notice a smell. Not a bad smell, quite the opposite actually. It is like flowers and the ocean and love and beauty and sunshine, it is intoxicating. The phone rings. I am so drawn to this aroma flooding the room and my senses and everything inside me and around me. “What is this?” I ask as if somehow I know this time the figure will answer. I hear one word, “answer.” It is the voice of a female, so soft and so pure. I wish I could see her. Her voice is beyond words, as if it eclipses right through me. The phone rings. I look at the phone. I look at the figure. I close my eyes, just wanting to let myself go into this amazing fragrance surrounding me. The phone rings.

old-black-vintage-rotary-style-telephone“Answer,” she says or whispers again. It’s as if she is speaking into my mind, telepathically yes, but more inside. I open my eyes. I look at the figure once more. “Answer my love. Time to let go,” she says, except this time from behind me. She was there, now she is here. She is holding me from behind, her head against my back. I know her. I have always known her. I do not need to see her, I know who she is, I feel who she is. I remember it all. I have missed her for so long. We have been searching for each other for eons and now two have become one again. There’s just one more thing to do, one final step. The phone rings. “You ready?’ I say as I turn to look into the eyes of my divine counterpart. I see her now, she smiles. We begin to glow as our smiles and eyes meet again for the first time in a long time. It is all the answer I need. I pick up the phone.

Another great flash of light. We disappear back into oblivion, together again, forever.

Important!

In Erik Sharp’s Own Words

After the Fall refers to several things. It refers to the season, Christmas time, the winter,being after the Fall season. It refers to after the fall of the soul, into divine feminine and masculine, and reuniting after a long separation. Also, refers to after the Fall of humanity. 

 

1 comment

  1. TimeWrinkler

    Freakin genius. 5 stars…*****

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