Page 200 - Revelation

Svetlana de Rohan-Levashova. Revelation

After my honest account about my "adventures" dad stopped considering me to
be a "small child" (to my enormous joy!!!) and I was permitted to use his books which
I previously had been forbidden to touch which gave me more reasons to stay at home,
and combining such a life with grandmother’s pies, I was absolutely happy and by no
means felt lonely.

However, like it had happened before, I could not enjoy my favourite pastime –
tranquil reading – for a long, because something "eccentric" would necessarily happen.
So, one winter evening, when I was enjoying a new book, crunching the freshly baked
cherry patties, the highly strung Stella popped in and declared in a peremptory voice:
– It’s so good that I found you. You must come with me at once!

– What happened? Come, where? – I was surprised at her unusual haste.
– To Maria. Dean is dead... Let’s go, quickly!!! – The girl impatiently shouted.
I at once remembered the little, dark-eyed Maria who had the only friend – her
faithful Dean...

– I’m coming! – I fluttered and quickly rushed after Stella to the "floors"…

Sorrow

Again we found ourselves in the same sullen and ominous scenery to which I have
almost got accustomed, since visiting the Low Astral world so many times, if one can
get accustomed to something like that at all.
We quickly looked around and saw Maria.
The little girl sat right on the ground, bent, her head drooping, seeing and hearing
nothing around. The only thing she did was affectionately stroke her "gone" friend’s
shaggy and immobile body with her frozen palm, as if trying thus to awaken him.
Severe and bitter adult tears streamed down from her sad and lifeless eyes like little
brooks. Flashing like brilliant sparks, they disappeared in the dry grass in a split second,
sprinkling it with pure and living rain. It seemed that this world, which had been cruel
enough before, had become even colder and stranger for Maria. She was now
absolutely alone, so amazingly fragile in her deep sorrow, and there is nobody left to
console, caress or protect her. Her best friend, her faithful Dean lay like an enormous
and immobile hillock next to her…

She pressed close to his soft shaggy back, unconsciously denying acceptance of
his death, and stubbornly refusing to leave him, as if knowing that even now, after his
death he still dearly loved and sincerely protected her. She desperately lacked his
warmth, his strong "shaggy" support and the habitual and reliable "their little world"
in which only the two of them dwelt. But Dean was silent, refusing to wake up. Some
little sharp-toothed creatures darted about him trying to bite off a piece of his hairy
"flesh". At the beginning Maria tried to drive them away with a stick but saw that the
attackers paid no attention to her and gave up on it. Like on the "firm" Earth, there was
the "law of the strongest", but when the strongest died, those who could not get him
when he was alive were eager to repair an omission by "tasting" his dead spiritual
body, at the very least.
On seeing this sorrowful picture, my heart began to ache and my eyes to sting

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