The End of the beginning
“We will erase certain events from your mind until you are ready and the time is here,” said the angel. “You have been chosen for the task because you are one of us.”
Paul took another deep breath, trying to unblock the pressure. He looked around him. It was terrifying and disturbing, he thought anxiously for the hundredth time, to be talking to angels and other spiritual beings whilst in the midst of normality.
He was sitting in a chintzy sofa in his familiar and comfortable living room. Logs were piled high on either side of the fireplace and out of the French windows he caught a glimpse of the midwinter clouds racing across a bleak sky. He squeezed his hands together in a childhood gesture of anxiety.
“No,” he replied without speaking. He just blinked his answer in the shorthand language he had become accustomed to using during these strange, transcendental and celestial conversations. He thought deeply about the task for which he had been supposedly chosen. He did not feel at all comfortable at the prospect. In fact, a large ball of fear had formed in his solar plexus just as it had been doing on and off as the precursor to all the traumatic events he had been experiencing.
This had been an intense and life threatening period in his life that he once believed would never come to an end and one he would never be able to forget or wish to repeat. Until now his interest in metaphysical and spiritual matters had been, he realized bitterly, purely academic. Even when the angel group first made contact and later, when the dark forces almost drove him insane, he still, somehow, held on to a semblance of his everyday normality. This then must be the true test of whether these experiences were real, or just a terrifying mental aberration. The problem was that the everyday definition of reality had no meaning in this situation.
Paul could sense the presence of the angel group. Each member of it was an individual and left a definable personality impression on his mind so that he was able to distinguish one from the other.
“We will erase only part of your record of experiences,” whispered Development Angel. “It will be some time before the next phase begins for you and in that time you will be hidden from the perceptions of the dark one. Only when events start to fall into place and you start to emerge as who you really are will it be alerted to your existence again.”
“You will be left with sufficient memories for the first book to be written,” explained Punishment Angel. “Someone you will meet will help you. Then, much later, you will transcribe the second book.”
Paul knew that he could keep no secrets from this group, whatever and wherever it was. No part of his mind, even the deepest recesses where he hardly dared penetrate, was hidden from these angels. He had learned not to care about this, but to allow himself to feel as deeply and as emotionally as he could, irrespective of whether they observed or not, and to learn to recognize his own inner demons; something he would have found impossible to do before all this began. He also thought that he must be crazy to be agreeing to such an absurd proposition or so-called destiny. His rational self still believed none of it. The obvious culprit for all of these staggering events was stress. The problem was that he was not suffering from any form of serious stress as far as he could tell. Madness was, of course, another distinct possibility that came to mind, but then, could a person wonder rationally if they were mad if they actually were mad or insane? The angels had told him that the whole mind and soul bending episode was coming to an end and that he would not have to endure contact with these forces for very much longer.
Nevertheless, it was a nerve wracking moment of decision. To make it would denote an acceptance that what had been happening to him was in some way real. If it wasn’t, and it was some kind of weird hallucination, then it didn’t matter anyway. He would say anything to get rid of these spiritual intruders.
But, it was also a seductive and mind blowing prospect. To play a part in the next phase of the development of the human race was simply an orgasmic notion. Paul had asked the ‘why me’ question over and over and no explanation had ever been forthcoming, other than that he had been born for this destiny or fate. This is what made the whole situation so absurd. There was nothing special about him. He was a middle aged IT consultant who had developed an interest in spirituality, religion, magic, the occult and so-called new age matters and had delved deep, but no more than many people. Why he should be chosen to transcribe a book which would apparently herald a new world order he simply could not fathom. Right now, he just wanted to agree to anything and get rid of them all so that he could get back to work and to his normal life. He was certainly no writer.
“All right,” he blinked. “Let’s get on with it.”
“Lie back,” commanded Punishment Angel.
“Goodbye, my little cherub,” said Guardian Angel with real warmth.
“Goodbye, Paul,” crooned Development Angel.
“Goodbye, Paul,” said Prosperity Angel.
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