Part1
Chap 4
At the Beach
After his foray into the charming Eugénie and her friend Madeleine’s small living room, Simon had found himself back in the real world—3D, as the connoisseurs call it, the world of the living. Compared to the Astral, it was a heavy and sluggish world. They say earthly life is merely a dream mistaken for reality. The true awakening came when one left this material world to join “the real life,” a place where all senses were heightened. In truth, they were no longer filtered or restrained by the physical body.
Reintegrating into his physical body had been somewhat jarring, like a magnet snapping onto a metal surface. A loud “clack” had echoed. Simon wondered: was it a real sound, audible to others, or just an internal perception? Regaining awareness, he grabbed a notebook and pen to jot down everything he’d seen, fearing it might vanish like a dream.
Before departing, he’d had some concerns about the fluidic cord—its possible rupture and other issues Véronique had mentioned. Yet, none of that had happened. He hadn’t even seen it, only faintly felt it pulling him back at the end of his journey. Véronique was right: there was really nothing to worry about!
What truly mattered was the story he’d uncovered in the Astral. A genuine melodrama was unfolding there, and he’d become part of the plot. He felt he had a role to play in freeing those young women. It was no coincidence that he’d ended up there. Moreover, he knew it wasn’t a dream. Everything was astonishingly vivid: the images, sounds, and voices of the characters were far clearer and more alive than on Earth. The scene in the sewing room was etched in his memory with striking clarity. Unlike dreams, he didn’t lose any recollection of this journey. The notebook wasn’t really necessary; it slowed him down. His account felt heavy and imprecise. No earthly word could perfectly capture the incredible adventure he’d just experienced. The urge to tell the magician everything had crossed his mind, but he reconsidered: after all, this was his story, his quest, and she wasn’t his confidante. He preferred to deepen his exploration before contacting her again. Yet, she had said, “Keep me posted.” His experience must not be so common, and she seemed interested.
The second day of fasting had been tougher. Simon felt the effects of food deprivation, as expected: headaches, fatigue—side effects from the depletion of sugar reserves in his muscles and liver. His body was switching fuels, now drawing from fat stores, a transition that could cause discomfort. There was also that “psychological” hunger, a mere craving for food that didn’t reflect a true need. He held firm. Oddly, though, the cooking smells wafting through the air lately left him strangely indifferent, as if his body refused to respond to their call.
He decided to spend the day at the beach, convinced the sun would do him good. But his mind was elsewhere; he was eager to dive back into exploring the astral world and find out what had become of the two young women.
The apartment was a short fifteen-minute walk from the seaside. He had to cross the town, pass over a bridge spanning the highway, weave between tennis courts, and cross a dual carriageway at his own risk (laziness kept him from using the distant pedestrian crossings) before reaching a small pebbled beach lined with restaurants. It was a bit disappointing, but he made do: after all, the primary goal of his trip was isolation, not a beach vacation. He walked under the blazing sun without feeling sweat bead on his skin, a sensation he attributed to the fast.
He was surprised to encounter so few people during his outing. The beach was nearly deserted, with the few swimmers far from the shore. It was May, outside school holidays, and the water was likely still chilly. Still, he couldn’t complain about being able to lay out his towel without a horde of tourists disturbing him!
Back at the studio, he took a shower to rinse off the salt and relax. He wanted everything to go smoothly, to stack the odds in his favor for picking up his mission where he’d left off. Evening was gently falling. He’d waited for this moment all day. Lying on the bed, he checked one last time that everything was in place: crystal, notebook, pen. Finally, he grabbed the spray bottle and… pschitt…
Go to chap 5: https://buymeacoffee.com/sibeliusletheurge/the-astral-quest-chap5
