Alberto Pavan Art

Amedeo was too spaced out to react. He didn’t respond. He kept looking at her and at his fingertips, as in them he might have found anything to say to this unusual creature who stated to be him. She repeated the… what was it? A request? An order? A suggestion?

:- I am not talking for myself, I am talking for you. It may be easier to grasp these concepts if you can unhinge from your prefabricated way of thinking and you let your mind go free. Trust me on this. I am talking in your best. Interest.

Amedeo searched the pockets of the shots he was wearing and found one of the joints. He gave it to her, she lightened it up and Amedeo felt immediately the effect.

:- don’t be so surprise! She stated :- I am you, after all; I smoke, you get high; Anyway, in this dimension, like in any other, there are portals that make a bridge between one dimension and another. There are so many of these portals that they are practically everywhere. But the majority of these portals take you nowhere. Dimensions where almost nothing has happened, some with embryonic life, simple life forms at a protozoic level, some with even less, Too much of a nothing to even register in even the most sensitive, trained mind who seven looking for them, but some, are fully built realities, some of them very similar to this one, the way people generally picture parallel realities, some of them are fully fledged realities but extremely different from this one. Some of them are so intense, they have such a magnetic time-space pull, that have been perceived in other dimensions, some of them are the seed for myths, legends, even the whole religious ideas come from powerful parallel dimensions. Or because one element from another dimension is, somehow, for the most different reasons and under the most different circumstances, travel from one dimension to another, or because the contact between the two realities is too strong, the boundary too thin.

Now, just to give you an idea, picture a library, a never ending library where there are contained all the books ever written, but not only, books containing all the possible permutations and combinations of the letters of the alphabet. Including a book containing only A, only B only C and so on, then there will be a book with only A, but somewhere there will be a AB, in the next book there will be an AC then two AB …. Do you get my drift? All the possible permutations of the 21 letters of the alphabet will be in the library. Now, you must see that the chances that by randomly picking letters, one gets as a final result War and Peace is extremely rare, Impossible in your world, but not impossible in the infinity. In the infinity there will be a few actually of combinations of letters forming war and peace, because the infinite is pretty vast. There will be War and peace, The divine Comedy and Le miserable in infinite permutation of the originals we know. You can even get the version where Natasha is lesbian with Cosette or where Renzo of The Betrothed will marry Salome.

Realities function in the very same way. All the possible and probable combinations of potential situations have happened and will continue to happen, And not only those regarding, people like you, mankind; but starting from the initial exchanges of chemicals that gave the initial spark to everything else. Don’t look at me like that, I haven’t made the roles, and I am only reporting back to you something that you must have known at some ancestral level, because i couldn’t tell you something you don’t already know. We all know about this, but we forget, we don’t want to know.
:- OK, Amedeo said, :- ok, so there are millions and millions of realities, what has this to do with Rua do Amor?
:- As i already told you, please Give me a chance, said the comics character that never was created, at least, not in this dimension, and that wanted to be known as Alika :- As I was saying, this world is literally covered with portals to one of these dimensions. But the majority of them are gibberish , too many are empty, too many have such an elemental fragment life it is hardly noticeable. The fact is, most of them are amorphous spaces (if spaces is the right way to describe them ), they don’t generate any vibration, any pull toward them as they have almost nothing in. But those which have developed enough to be somehow similar to a tangible reality they have a much stronger pull. Not that anyone would be able to identify the pulling force as an indication of the portal to a different dimension, but they feel a little funny. A little giddy Like a minor jet-lag . Are you with me?
:- I guess i am, said Amedeo questioning his sanity
:- Very well…. It happened to you, dear Amedeo. You have been… actually, are, the perceptive type. You have always had an attraction for the half truth, the things left unspoken. You love La notte, by Antonioni, a film that generally is considered a bore, because you like the half sentenced, the things suggested but not clearly said, , you likeTeorema, by Pasolini, where to the most grotesque, vulgar reality of sexual tensions is mixed in a dose of sublime purity, of Buddhist elevation to altered states; you took a film and a comic like Barbarella as a manifesto for sexual freedom and feminism. You have, after all, an open mind. Well…. That, in combination with the hallucinogenic drugs you ate at the beach, gave you a state of hyper-alertness. You were open to sense the patterns that compose not only your reality, but the essence of all realities Et le voila’ you were able to senses the portal, hidden all the way through the Rua do Amor. You sensed it because it is a particularly strong dimension that one. It has a very powerful pull on the people of your world..

Hort stories 4. Alika e Amedeo


:- that is a portal to a particularly important reality, in relation to this reality. The one where you are now, because it is one that has leaked through into your culture; legends and beliefs have spoken of this reality in yours, Religions have been using it. It is a dimension we all would be better off without, It is a place of sorrow, of pain. where everything is wrong, twisted. Empathy is not an option and power is unequal, happiness is not the goal, punishment is. Love is not aspired toward, Hate is.Men like you are pets to other men, much more sophisticated in intelligence and physically much bigger. Poverty is the norm. Capitalism has already given its effect in this reality. What they have is the consequences of an unscrupulous capitalistic society Those few with wealth they run the whole scenario from oasis of impenetrable security, they are just an handful. And they are sheltered away, they do not belong to that reality any longer. They prefab their own. What’s left is a truly horrible place. I guess it is what you guys, in this dimension, would call HELL. In truth it is just the decadent result of a very badly managed perception of a reality that generated that mess. Mind you, the same could well happen in here if things don’t change drastically; In a couple of centuries at the very most, hell will be settled in here too….. that reality is only a little older that yours. There we go…. That’s the voices “come with us” “Vieni….Vieni” you heard perspiring through the walls. Those walls can be walls for most people, but, for the likes of you, they are very thin membranes to the parallel reality of hell…. Just look straight into them and you can even break in, the membrane would flex, open, let you in and re-form behind you. Feel free to try! But there is no way back once you are in.

This is what Alika had to say to Amedeo, who was too astonished to even have a reply…… or a question….or a clarification to ask…. He was about to be able to focus enough thoughts to have a general grasp of the paradoxal tale he just heard, when he suddenly, without any warning, he saw Milton’s face, deeply asleep instead of Alika’s and instead of the shortcut he was surrounded by the boundaries of his bedroom.

He touched his body, necked, profusely moist with perspiration. He had dreamed the whole thing. Nothing he heard from Alika was reliable. Everybody knows dreams are crazy. They don’t mean anything. They don’t have to be logic or make sense, they evaporate quickly after you dream them, despite the intensity of the experience we have in dreams, as soon as you are awake, they melt away. Like ice in an oven, He already struggled to remember the details. He rushed to the bedroom’s desk to grab a pen and some scrap paper to make a note of the dream, but when he started to write, he knew he was filling in many gaps in the memory with his own conscious thoughts, and a dream that made perfect, logic sense while experiencing it, now it seemed a preposterous, farfetched story that hardly made any sense.


He woke up for the second and final time that morning. It was 7am, Milton still in Morpheus’ arms. He felt strangely calm, at peace with himself, He hardly had any real memory of the dream, Only when he noticed the notes he wrote to himself during the night he was able to remember Alika and her bizarre tale about realities.

That night, when the group went to town, he directed himself, followed by the whole group of friends, toward the shortcut. They all went through it joyfully, laughing and mocking one another as they always did to wind each other up. Nothing happened. No voices, no scary feelings, nothing at all.

His subconscious mind already did the adjustment. He knew that one day he won’t be able to resist, One day he would stare at the walls confining the narrow street, He knew that the terrifying reality he barely sensed through those walls will take over his world, anyway. How to resist at the curiosity to know how it was before anyone else? He knew that it would have happened sooner or later. He hardly remembered the details of the dream, but he was left with the information he was not able to forget. Those Walls would open for him. And what was happening behind them was what to expect for the human race he belonged to. But he would have not known anything about it because it was far enough in the future not to be part of it,

…..And he wanted to know. He now knew that it was no longer a matter of IF he will stare at those walls, but it was a matter of WHEN he will do it…. And then…………

The end
©2022 Alberto Pavan is powered by WebHealer
Cookies are set by this site. To decline them or find out more visit our cookie page