The Otherness

I kept looking away due to the unexplainable ferocity of the craft’s light but fascination would insist I kept glancing back much to the strain of my eyes. I couldn’t keep still and had to keep moving around but even the sound of my footsteps indicated something very wrong.  The expected sound of dried leaved being crushed underfoot sounded as though it was coming from a distance just like being under water.  Something was also terribly strange about the scene around me, sounds were suffocating and the appearance of things in the distance was becoming faint, lightening even. The vague outline of trees and bushes were no longer visible as everything had taken the appearance of whiteness.  I suddenly began to understand that I had plunged into a new universe where the only two bodies existing were me and the craft. All else was devoid.

The strange whiteness seemed to have replaced the night and all else visible within it. All activity around me had been absorbed into an eerie existence of silence. Perhaps this was another unexplored state of the Oz Factor, a strange white realm with drowned out sounds and a sensation of moving through syrup. As I tried to move, I remembered that feeling of sluggishness where everything resembled slow motion as if the white fabric around me had an unaccounted denseness. Even at the time it occurred to me how similar it was to those dreams where you would be stuck to the spot and a train would be coming towards you and no matter how hard you tried to move, your muscles would simply not respond or would be exceptionally slow in doing so.  Movement was either an effort or a delayed reaction. 

Through the whiteness, the craft was still visible with its faint glow that continued to hurt my eyes. I couldn’t put this bizarre replacement of the night towards light coming from the craft because it didn’t appear to be the source of the whiteness. It continued to pulsate the same sequence of colours yet white was the colour of all around me engulfing everything.        

I don’t remember this thing ever moving, yet it appeared to be much nearer now which could have been just a trick owing to the absence of everything. Its only movement was the pulsating motion and mutation of colours which mesmerised me to the point of ignoring any other movement it might have made. Equally fascinating was it’s silence and I wonder if the imagery alone was a factor making me imagine sound or if there was something else communicative going on. With this silence and what I already know about the Oz Factor, a kind of communion could indeed have happened although I’m not sure how.  It was very much the ‘oneness’ I felt earlier about nature rather than actual messages being transmitted.  Now it was just this thing and I and perhaps that alone was significant.

I remembered it making me feel docile and pliable for whatever was on the agenda. This docility came over me in extreme tiredness where my eyes began to burn and my legs turned to jelly. I became over-ridden with the sensation of wanting to lie down and ignore everything for a few minutes and even recalled thinking how strange this must have looked. I was in a public place being summoned by a huge floating cell, a scene that could have been apparent from miles away yet not a soul was present. My only feelings were of retreat, wanting to lie down in a nearby bush or something. 

* * *

What I remember as I stood there was the magnificence of the hall. It wasn’t unlike a stately home. The floor was marble like the corridor only this seemed more mosaic similar to the floors found in Roman houses. The ceiling was unnervingly high and decorated with a gorgeous design that I can’t quite remember. I recall the walls having flowing red curtains at intervals and even oil paintings that perhaps a connoisseur of art might recognise, but I didn’t.  Nothing about the event really added up and there I was robbed of the capacity to even question it.

This aspect in itself was fascinating and characteristic. When I think back to how I felt on the occasion, I realise it was pure Oz.  The whole scenario had all the Oz Factor’s dreamy inconsistencies where if a pink dinosaur had emerged from one of those walls, I wouldn’t have criticised it.  My head was engulfed with a hazy ‘not here’ feeling only this was all real. I recall the rough texture of the gown rub the back of my neck, clearly hearing voices speak of all tones and accents and a bizarre smell of incense burning from somewhere. Then of course there was that familiar phenomenon I experienced in all the scenarios, the light. There it was, but where did it come from?  No spotlights, bulbs or candles were visible from anywhere yet the light around me was apparent.  I have never been hypnotised but suspect this feeling was certainly related to the twilights of a trance.

When I try, I can vividly picture some of the faces I remember seeing that night in the crowd. One of them I will never forget--the one that almost startled me out of my trance. I must have been briefly scanning the list of faces of those in front at queue I was standing. When I came to a familiar one, it almost screamed out at me, not because I knew them personally but because it was a celebrity. From about twenty places in front as the queue wound around to a facing wall it took me a while to register who the person actually was. There as clear as daylight, I saw a reasonably well known British actress standing, waiting her turn like the others and just as dazed. I later wondered what on earth she was doing there and what her connection was but now I doubt there was one. Judging by her entranced look I doubt she actually knew she was there to this day. She seemed so distant of her involvement, the same way I was for most of my life. Perhaps I was the only one who actually recognised her as no one gave her second glance whilst queuing.  Why would a famous person attend a gathering like this is such a state particularly when there was enough risk from the press getting wind of it let alone the general public?