On the Wings of Hope : Prose

Mass-media! - and here you are climbing a fake Olympus, which has conveniently sunk in a swamp, in a hope to be shown in other same boxes. For some unknown reason it seems to you as a greatly significant and important moment of your life - probably to have yet another topic for yet next chit-chat with your fellow workers? Are you completely sure in your desire to get into a crate ahead of time - and in which one, exactly? Mass-media! - a perfect tool to create heroes from mediocrities and to mediate heroes.

Mass-media! - the more, the better, yes? So that you will totally lack time to think of something really significant, to make something truly valuable… Perhaps, a convenient justification of own unwillingness to look widely and deeply? Socially legalized possibility to remain informational consumer, without doing a single step for own creativity. Mass-media! - it’s a drug. A way of rejecting yourself. A way to flee from a reality, which you are too lazy to alter.

Mass-media know what they are doing. Do you?

28.02.2012

Mess

- Pssss … come over here! - a voice came out of bushes.

- Stand where you are no matter whoever you are! - Ivan almost jumped up from surprise, having somehow inexplicable managed to rotate him in the jump for two hundred sixty seven and half degrees in direction to a source of potential danger.

- And what should the flying ones do - stop right where they are flying? - a reasonable question came out of bushes once again.

- Whoever is here, show yourself! - a hero, for many yet unknown, and for us already named, continued making his proposition.

- Hey, stop being afraid of me already! - someone hiding in bushes soothingly noticed. - Look, you’ve stopped on your way, but what’s a big deal? You have been wandering through this local forest aimlessly nevertheless. And here you’ve got a nice chance to chit-chat with somebody heart-to-heart … with me, for instance.

- And where might you be, I wonder? - a brave one, who have already recovered from a first shock, wasn’t appeased in the curiosity. - You may turn out to be a terrible and horrific monster, trapping lonely travelers on their way to people, you know?

- Oh, pardon me, what’s the point for me to be nasty! - a sniff came somewhere sideways this time. - Who will covet us in this case? Besides, we are not awful, but peaceful and truly democratic, to say so. We bring happiness, struggle for human rights. A freedom of choice, relations, conscience. And so on, and so forth.

- So, you are a female?  A representative, of so to say, fair sex? - Ivan was taken aback.

- Well, fair for someone, and nasty for another. It all depends here on the level of reason, as they say.

- From what? - Ivan didn’t understand.

- Well … it’s such a thing - level. And the reason - what’s the reason? Simply a profanation! - a giggling came out of the next tree. - Where were you going here, I wonder?

- On affairs! - Ivan muttered. - I am not going to tell strangers everything, especially having not seen them eye to an eye. Maybe, they don’t even possess the eyes?

- Maybe they don’t … - a reasonable notice doubled itself. - And, maybe, ones such as me don’t even require it.

- Hey, you, eyeless monster! I am gonna fire at you an arrow from my bow, and where it will strike e - either to an eye, or some other body spot - is a minor matter! - barked Ivan and got behind bow and arrows.

- Well, you are not some sort of cupid to stick all passers-by with arrows of love, are you? And besides … what if it turns out that I am that wonderful frog-princess, whom you are required to kiss to further live on together with her in a happiness and consent till death itself won’t separate you? Wouldn’t you really want to try it out, m-m-m-m? - the voice of female stranger was getting more and more tender and viscous.

- All right, - Ivan finally agreed. - I will always have the time to make a frog for needles from you, - he summarized. - But you must be leaving your bushes hideout strictly one by one, and keep in mind - I am holding you on sight!

- Oh, just look at what courageous and brave companion I have found! I am almost burning whole from desire! - stranger girl sang with pleasure and, finally, left her bush-like hiding place.

- A-a-a … o-o-o … u-u-u-u … e-r-r-r … you are such … - mumbled Ivan.

- Beautiful, huh? It has been so since my very birth.

- That’s not the word …

- And what sort of word would it be, m-m-m? - mysterious acquaintance continued smiling, gracefully pacing before Ivan.

- Mine - that’s the word!

- Well … maybe yours as well. There is time for everything … By the way, my name is Mess.

- Mess? What a beautiful name! - Ivan exclaimed. - Ivan! - he presented himself.

- And to you, Ivan! - Mess smiled.

- What do you mean “and to you”? - he misunderstood.

- And to you I am pleasant as well, as I see.

 - Yes … you are all such … sparkling … such … unusual … thing … many, probably, don’t even possess such ones …