The Couch as a Means of Comprehending Reality
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If amazement had a physical synonym, it would undoubtedly be the anthropology student, who, in total bewilderment, tore his eyes away from the lines he had just read.
After rereading the last sentence several times, he dumbly asked the air:
"What the hell was that?"
His mind was swarming with countless more questions, and he was eager to rush upstairs with all his might, just to ask the author of this masterpiece why she had come up with all of this in the first place. But one thing held him back.
How he had grown to love it during all the time he had spent half-reclined, reading this book on his smartphone! On this couch, stuffed with the softest and gentlest foam imaginable, one could easily spend an eternity — and then some. The couch was the unchanging constant that allowed perfect unity between yourself, the book, and pure comfort.
Great. Now he was starting to think like that weird philosopher.
He heard the sound of light footsteps. Someone was coming down the stairs, and he had a pretty good guess who it might be.
When the mistress of the house came into view, he couldn't help but notice she was holding a portable mirror in her hands, examining something closely within it. Behind her, as usual, floated a small drone, but she paid it no mind.
"She's like the Evil Queen from the fairy tale, asking the mirror for answers," the student thought playfully, even letting out a small chuckle when the woman suddenly hopped in place and angrily stomped her foot — clad in a rubber clog full of holes to "let the foot breathe." Across the living room echoed her outburst:
– Damn this drought! The screen on my smart mirror might be cracked, but it still works fine and gives accurate weather forecasts. So, long story short: no changes ahead — it's going to be the same damn heat. Which means everything I planted in this godforsaken dirt isn't going to grow for shit! Gotta fix this.
The student just shrugged and yawned, a little worn out from the day:
– And what do you propose?
– What do you mean: "what"? – The shaman woman looked at him in confusion. – I'm gonna have to dust off the old traditions and remember the ways of the ancestors. I already consulted with their digital versions through the neural networks, and they suggested I summon rain to water all the crops.
– Do you think it'll work?
Came a rather harsh and tactless response:
– Did your mom ask those kinds of questions before she had you? No, she just went ahead and did it. Same here — it'll work!
Not even thinking to be offended, the knowledge-seeker decided to take the bull by the horns and ask about what had been bothering him:
– Tell me, please, what was that last part or chapter about? You know… the one with the philosopher. It didn't really fit into the story — felt kind of out of place…
The shaman woman raised her finger — like all her other fingers, covered in a collection of gold rings — and explained:
– That, my good sir, was a teaser for the second book, to let the reader know not to get upset and to wait for the continuation.
"It's unlikely anyone will be dying to wait for it. But still… a little curiosity remained. Though it was kind of shameful to admit it to himself. Like the guilty pleasure of watching something forbidden and disgusting."
The young man's thoughts were interrupted by the same no-nonsense shaman woman, who placed that miraculous mirror on the table and pulled a phone from the endless folds of her pareo draped over her baggy trousers. Flicking her index finger across the screen, she let out a series of croaks. The student immediately heard the notification sound on his device.
– Great, I've just sent you the second part. So, make yourself comfortable and start reading. And if you're hungry or want a drink, the fridge and bar in the next room are at your disposal.
– How did you write it so fast?! – The young man marveled. – I read very quickly, so you couldn't have possibly done it in just a few…
He was cut off by the mysterious smile playing on her lips, which were painted with a salad-green lipstick:
– The wisdom of our ancestors can pull off even more complex schemes, my sweet idealist. So don't get distracted, start reading, while I go and prepare for the upcoming ritual. It will require all my mental strength, a lot of mana, summons to the eight hells, and writing a special piece of code on a nearly broken retro computer model 486. See you later, amigo.
A rustle went through the pile of her numerous garments, and amidst that whirlwind she vanished as if she had never been there. And all the student could do was head to the indicated dining room, pour himself some mango and turmeric juice, and—while on the move—open his e-book reading app. And there…