Book: Golden Elsa



The path to my treasure lay through a long, narrow corridor to the kitchen. At the kitchen table in a sliding cell with forks and knives, I came up with a storage space of a chest of Golden doubloons - matchbox, stuffed with a lot of money. On Sunday mornings, when everyone was asleep, I pulled out my treasure, fingering the coins, counted and Polish the tarnished doubloons a piece of felt, kept them back, and, satisfied, returned to the room. In those moments I was wise alchemist, penetrated all the secrets of the transmutations of matter. The philosopher's stone was in my "secret". He looks like a piece of red amber. In fact, there were frozen tears of the sisters of Phaeton, crashed in a fiery chariot of the Sun God. It happened a million years ago, but I was able to see through time... Now, a tiny piece of frozen tears was my talisman and philosopher's stone, from which I removed the mystery and admired them. The red tincture, the Grand elixir. It was all happening the most skilled tales. Black alchemy adults was a lion and tried to swallow the sun. Leo choked on them, and in the case of transformation of matter took little wizards, mysterious alchemists. Sometimes I would get a piece of amber from "the secret", approached the window, gazed through it at the sun, and thousands of fiery arrows aroused my fantasy. Thoughts - glad the sun beings - began to dance in the dance fun. I saw them, knew every, sometimes joined in the dance, in order to subsequently slip are washed by magic. The eternal elixir of the imagination, the mystery of the Golden threads that weave the tale.
And when I touched the red amber to Golden fur my Elza, was a clear miracle: the stone was full of inner light, becomes hot as a piece of the sun. Began to glow in the darkness, and the magic Princess, wandering in different realities, have changed. From fur her were sparks. She bent over mysteriously, and before me... before my mind's eye floated a vision: thin, airy, green-eyed girl with luxurious curls the color yellow red amber smiles at me through space and time. Two mysteries, two magical elements in contact and gave birth to a miracle. I kept this miracle from everyone, afraid to cause him the ruin of other people's opinions and ridicule. Only the adult world with impenetrable darkness and fear of freedom could laugh at the miracle. The child is bathed in it as in bliss. Purified tale, in which there was light. And is it possible to uncover this light before the deniers of light and wonder? Is it possible to test the darkness of the very tenderness, which could not exist in the atmosphere of the basement darkness, suffocated and died in the darkness, if not escaped to the light source? The adult world of the tales were severe.
(Gold Elsa childhood of the magician)
Quote Explanation: Childhood of the magician
№ 393073   Added MegaMozg 06-05-2020 / 11:00
Yes, thanks to this miraculous salvation in the basement, I re-learned magic. I continued to listen to her mother's bedtime stories, but have ordered the dreams of himself living in them a different reality. And when the tale broke out of the dream into my day, I already knew how much. For example, collecting the Golden pollen from the autumn maple leaf and melted it into gold. All the new coins I was diligently polishing paste GOI and admired the glow of imagination, transforming an ordinary penny pennies into gold doubloons, folded into the pirate chest. A thousand devils and a barrel of rum! I had fun when the box was empty boxes from the matches, - was filled with coins. Oh, what joy! Comes new tales, is painted in Golden-red tones. Autumn was at any time of the year because all the gold was Fiat wealth inside of me. And this wealth no one could take away - just as it is impossible to take away a child's dream or an adult the desire to be happy. At any age you can be a wizard. Adult to do this, at least for a time, become the child, and the child - not to let themselves "adults" fears. Adults often fear of liberation from the anxieties generated by life's bustle. These concerns constrain the infinite soul, put her in a cage, even of pure gold, made to suffer, but the soul gradually becomes accustomed to the captivity, like a bird to its cage. Get used to the cage and the soul. And when it turned loose, she's afraid to make the first move. The freedom she feels like a cage and a prison pulpit freedom. Adult harder to become a magician. It is almost impossible. Only a purified heart can be this gift.
Quote Explanation: Childhood of the magician
№ 392196   Added MegaMozg 25-04-2020 / 17:09
When you enter the basement with daylight, then in the first moment feel as if sinking into a black pit. Do not see any dig. Walk a few steps to touch the wall, and the wall of cold brick, with ancient potholes and chipped and scratched, covered with some mucus. And, it seems that not down in the basement, and into the hell in which they live, devils and ghosts. There is no fear, but scared shitless, because you don't know what awaits you ahead. Warms only the understanding that you have one match, which can ignite at the most critical moment. And the magic that won't leave you in difficult moments.
Two or three minutes the eyes adjust to the darkness, and becomes not so scary. Sometimes once you see the visible outline of the passage. This is probably some kind of self-deception, suggestion, and can be really strong nervous tension that is included the most coveted cat's eye - is difficult to explain. Great desire to see something. And when a great desire, helps magic. It is possible and the time to become basement cat, not only a noble rogue or a wise alchemist. You can melt the fear in magic, to make it work for yourself.
Quote Explanation: Childhood of the magician
№ 392195   Added MegaMozg 25-04-2020 / 17:06
The city where I was born, carried the spirit of magic. Grotesque characters could exist only in the mood of my town with lots of soaring Gothic spires of the old Church, a neat cobbled streets and squares, where the night was going and weeping ghosts of witches, heretics, scientists, alchemists of all stripes, who during the Inquisition were burnt "to the greater glory of God." Their weeping was turned to the past, and was hovering over today's city Baltic howling monsoon winds. The past was heard in the night noises, which can recognize only children. Sometimes the old Church, built not on a Foundation of stone, and only hot fervent faith, flew up to the heavens, which were fixed and then the city could be heard the groans of the sinners who are not embraced landless Sky.
Old black river P. twice a year was "swollen" and poisoned by the miasma citizens. Who was wiser, he knew that Christmas and Easter from the bottom trying to get up decayed bodies are left there once the villains and robbers, and come out ahead of time on the Court Fear. And witches who were not checked by the fire of fires, and throwing them into the water. If the young red-haired beauty with green eyes, which conveyed a fat Burger, a neighbor, did not sink, so she was declared a witch and she was burned at the stake. If drowned, then the Church has recognized a mistake and prayed for the soul of the righteous, innocent victim for the sake of Christ and received a crown of the Martyr. Burger-the informer was not recognized, because in the inquisitorial box for letters - the "mouth of truth" - were allowed to leave anonymous. Not recognized there were still reasons for which it was told: young, proud beauty denied him the pleasures of love - she, a woman with obvious signs of witches; too independent, too beautiful, with Golden hair the color of carrots and eyes like sparkling malachite. The city was old for new stories, however, have nourished fantasies of children to magical new stories.
Quote Explanation: Childhood of the magician
№ 392194   Added MegaMozg 25-04-2020 / 17:03