Shaman. Book 1. Renaissance. Dmitry Shustin

I turned from the main road. My feet stepped onto the soft grass, which seemed to be a real carpet compared to an asphalt track. All my body was overcome by a strange feeling. With each step, I seemed to feel more and more an invisible connection with nature, becoming a single whole with it. I suddenly understood that I had not wandered so simply on the grass, at forest lawn strewn with tree branches and fallen leaves for so long. I turned around and was surprised to see all people, some of them being my colleagues and some being idle passers-by, who happened to step onto the factory alley, were going strictly on asphalt tracks, not daring to turn on the green lawn. It seems like if they do it, they will immediately fall under the attention of the other passers-by, under their look of mute reproach and misunderstanding. In fact, everyone is so busy with himself and his own problems that does not notice anything around, and even why he is going in one direction or another.

      Now I found myself at the door of the building with peeling cause of the long loneliness walls, which caught my attention. Almost nothing left from the door. Without any special efforts, I gently pushed the wooden frame and several boards adjoining to it. I took the first step and saw a dark corridor in front of me, occasionally lighted by the daily sun. A curtain looking like a linen cloth was hanging on the window. With the course of time, it became completely opaque and was covered with a thick layer of dust. My hand touched it and I felt a slight shudder of the fabric edge, as if it stood still for many years waiting when at least someone touches it. Left edge of the curtain slightly moved because of my touch and the corridor was brightened with the sunlight. However, there were still dark places somewhere, as if deliberately not willing to open up and show the light. Now I had the opportunity to see the interior more accurately. It was clear that during its heyday there was a real oak floor here, decorated with carved skirtings on the edges. A little bit later, this splendor was carelessly covered with an artificial, faded with year’s coat. Remains of paint were flying away from the walls every now and then. Somewhere plaster was falling away in whole pieces. Part of the accessory, providing the stability of the entire structure, was seen aloof.

      Visiting such places, you seem to be thrown out from the usual cycle of everyday endless routine. Environment is so different from the one you have to see every day that you completely lose the sense of time and space.

      It seems that situations, various events associated with this place flash like a whirlwind before you. Every part, every piece of this building keeps memory of people who used to be here earlier…

      The sound of alarm was ringing relentlessly, telling me about the end of the break. I hurried to the exit and moved to the side of the enterprise almost running.

      Then my working day continued as usual. Emotions subsided a little. When I came back home I felt whiny tiredness coming over me. Apparently, I was not ready for such amount of new experience that surged over me this afternoon like a tsunami.

      I do not even remember how I took off my clothes. As soon as my head felt the soft touch of a pillow, I fell asleep in a few moments…

      Part 2 Realization

      I woke up quite early, the clock showed 4:30 a.m. The last few months I woke up only at the alarm bell and not at once, but in 15 minutes, that is why I was inevitably late for work. I did not notice that at some moment it turned into a complete system that was leading me up a blind alley. At first, you work doing your best, then you take a vacation, but the feeling that work is approaching squeezes the heart harder with each passing day, giving you boredom and slight disappointment. Maybe it’s me or maybe it’s environment. The flow of information is so great that sometimes we are rushing through it like a tree branch on the rapid flow of a mountain river, losing any chance to assess the situation critically. In this condition, it’s very convenient to ignore what is actually happening inside the person. What does he want and what does his always-seeking soul want?

      Waking up so early, I turned to the other side as usual and wanted to go on dreaming. But I didn’t want to sleep at all. Having tossed for a few minutes, more I decided to get up. Yesterday tiredness passed, I felt quite relaxed and even cheerful. Events and experiences of the previous day gradually began to clarify in my head. The remnants of sleep finally dispersed and again I felt the compulsion to create.

      The room was still in the dark, but having made few cautious steps, I almost immediately came across an easel, which I had found yesterday morning. Moonlight lit up the whole room and a white sheet neatly attached to the easel frame, was radiating gentle turquoise light.

      It became immediately clear that nothing special had changed in the past day. I was still silently standing in front of an easel unable to squeeze out at least some tiny idea. It seemed that my entire mind was filled with alien thoughts and intentions. This feeling was so strong and sharp that even paralyzed my will for a while.

      I tried desperately to shake off this hated burden. Ah, I wish it was just a bag full of sand and uncomfortably laying on my shoulder. Then I could easily throw it down and squaring my shoulders I could cast a proud eye at the whole world around me. However the more free from the strange ideas I became, the more it seemed to me that I was starting to lose myself as well, so much these ideas digged into my consciousness. Now the yesterday feeling of emptiness could be regarded not as bad as the realization that your brain was filled up and down with unnecessary things.

      After hesitating for a while I did not come up with anything else but to go sleep again. Paper sheet remained completely clean, without a single stroke like yesterday. It represented my inner world, with the same emptiness and waiting for new and fresh ideas that could wake up and excite my mind.

      I am almost falling asleep. The noise of city streets, wafting through the open windows, led me into a light slumber that was just about to immerse me into a dream. For a while, I will forget about my thoughts, doubts, that so much alarmed me lately. Sleepy-eyed I happened to see a pile of some books on the bottom shelf of the old chest of drawers. It is strange…

      It was strange that I did not even notice that they all had been here before. As if they were from some other life that I did not know before, but which was constantly following me like a shadow. Overcoming my reluctance to move and to make at least some movements at all, I came to the chest of drawers and picked up the first book. It was lying at some distance from the rest and was notable for its bright, colorful cover. The first thing that immediately caught my eye was the image of firemen, although judging by their faces and eye expression; they looked like someone else, but not firemen. Perhaps this strange incongruity drew my attention. The book was called «Fahrenheit 451».

      The book title told absolutely nothing to me, and it was rather good than bad. My curiosity noticeably perked up and I began to read. Long time ago I liked reading and I could spend the whole evening diving with enthusiasm into a regular literary work. Then my passion faded by itself or maybe not by itself…

      I did not notice when an hour passed. My whole being was filled with some new, forgotten long ago feeling. Suppose, I could not create by myself, but I knew for sure that I was on the right way. I read about 40 pages, but didn’t catch yet, what was the plot, although I liked the book in general. The dawn broke, even the sunrise seemed different to me, I vividly and with interest watched the solar disk, rising higher and higher and illuminating everything around.

      Not waiting until the critical time, I hurried to dress, wash and left the house in the direction of the work. Although already then I was keenly aware that the work itself was not interesting for me anymore. And I couldn’t even remember if it was ever interesting. Such situation is probably quite common for people who have lost their way and forgotten about their true aspirations. On arriving at work, I was ready to spend the day as quickly as possible and return home to continue reading the story of Ray Bradbury. To my great surprise today wasn’t usual. Moreover, the changes began in the morning, when I still did not really understand that I was already in the workplace…

      At the entrance, there was a small line and I even imagined for a moment, that I could