Well this piece of writing appeared after the quantum poem i posted the one before last here. this piece of writing is about my spooky entaglement with the Waltons of Poland..please read the poem first as this is the parralel world imagined in the poem:-) This is the first piece of prose writing i have submitted please can you say if it reads ok as is very new...
A Spooky Entanglement
I had an epiphany that in a split second took me thro the zero point to where all possibilities exist. In an instant i found myself clutching a glass of Mazelvasser in the kitchen of Mr and Mrs Walton. Mazelvasser tastes very much like raki, but is made from potatoes....a Polish poteen in fact. I found out later that it was just the local name for vodka . Mrs Walton, (who shared with me her best recipe for making schmaltz without chicken fat ), breezed about her housework without a care in the world. In this cozy log cabin with it's impeccable order and constant cheer, i didn't recognise myself. The Waltons didn't stop smiling. Their lush sate of bliss washed over me. You could cut the syrup with a knife. How could anybody be that happy?
So who was this doppelganger of Mrs Walton they'd found wandering dazed in the chicken shed? To explain how i came to be there felt like i was committing profanity of a holy shrine. The fact i had arrived there alone. Strangely, it was Mr Walton who took the news the worst of all.. as he listened to the truth about his counterpart, Mr Walton grew angry. How could any version of him have let me make the long cold journey on my own? Mr Walton's brain was stretched to limits which had so far not included quantum theory.
'But if he's me, how can it be there is any doubt in his mind?' Mr Walton was finding it all very hard to take in. He couldn't contemplate a world without Mrs Walton...
'Because your world exists in my mind but not his. .And the you i have created is the you who would never have any doubt , which is why you can't believe otherwise. You and Mrs Walton have been so quantumly clever, you can't visualise ever having made the wrong choice. Forty years ago you kissed Mrs Walton and that special moment still exists here in this house. From no other thought than you both never again wanted to be apart. You rolled the lucky dice, Mr Walton, and you went through the right door. But in my world it never happened that way. It took forty years for the epiphany that brought me here. In the briefest of moments i knew this.... maybe he knew it too..or maybe he thinks i'm barking mad? But such are circumstances that he is not free to do anything but shut the door...'
Mrs Walton, who had been sipping her Mazelvasser and not saying very much, increased the momentum of her rocking chair muttering under her breath 'freedom is as freedom does'
Mr Walton's face clouded over as realisation dawned. From nowhere he felt his eyes moisten as he imagined how life could have conspired to keep him apart from Mrs Walton when he felt as if he loved her more each day...he let out a sob...Mr Walton wasn't used to this. Sadness in this house had never been felt before.
'Yes' he said 'Now i understand'. Mr Walton then felt a huge wave of sympathy for his counterpart whose throw of the dice had not been so lucky.
Mr and Mrs Walton far from being annoyed that i had polluted their sacred space with sadness, were left joyful as they realised how lucky then had been....after all how can you appreciate what you have unless you can be made to understand what it is like to have not? Pxxx