Many more times I witnessed the same mysterious writing, followed by the precipitate closing and locking of the book. A couple of times I attempted to mark the place with anything that came to hand, but in each instance the object was expelled – most violently.
I stopped trying after a paper clip that I attached to the page I was on, simply disappeared.
That night the dreams came back.
So much more to puzzle over. I spent hours turning pages, looking for clues or a key to help me translate. I took to counting the pages with writing and lost count somewhere around the two thousand mark, and still more pages with text lay ahead.
At that point I thought to check out the covers – but they were clean, not even anything I could assume was a signature of ownership.
Days later I finally reached the last page of written material. Well short of half way through the volume.
And there before my eyes, in flashes of brilliant light more letters drew themselves onto the page. And when finished the book closed up and the lock relocked.
I stumble over my thoughts when I consider how best to explain how I unlocked the book.
I sat in front of this page a full hour before I set pen to it.
It was not so much the same five letters that I saw over and over – though I am so familiar with them now.
But it marks the first time I heard the voice. And I felt myself to be the object of some watching presence once again.
The voice did not address me. On the contrary the impression grew that I was being allowed to overhear what was said.
My comprehension was immediate. I saw the “letters” as the steps to manipulate the lock open.
I followed them. And saw the pages within at last.
The dreams were such that I did not connect them at all to the book on my shelf. From what I can remember they were ordinary fare in so far as dreams go. They even had twists at the end. But I did remark that they were much more vivid. They lingered like a half remembered fragrance.
Thus they continued until a day came and they were accompanied by scrolling text.
I believe that first occurred when my frustration with the lock on the book was at its height.
The letters of the text were not any I recognized.
I hang my head and admit my dullness – for it took the longest time for me to understand that the same five letters appeared over and over again above the image of the lock that floated in and out of my dreams.
A promise is a promise.
The voice reminds me.
So, here goes.
The strangest volume has come into my possession. It is tiny and fits easily in the palm of my hand. Yet it is so thick I cannot close my fingers around the whole of it.
It took me the longest while to figure out how to open it to look within. A lock of sorts sits on the cover and laughs at my attempts to free its contents.
Only by a revelation from a dream did I finally release the pages within.
But I must stop now, in obedience.
And proceed cautiously.
Watch This Space 