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A secret path

I’ve been receiving obscure, mystical, vague signs for a couple of years. I’d walk through a metro station thinking about something, telling myself a name, a number, a colour, then see a name, a number, a colour exactly the same on a billboard, on a brochure or in the newspaper.

The same thing happened when I was sitting on a bench in front of a church reading a story on a scientist who was born in Yorkshire or went to school to Yorkshire or something like that, when an old woman sat down on a bench, looking at me suspiciously, blaming me for something I couldn’t imagine, something I didn’t do, stroking, a little grey Yorkshire terrier, a disquietingly calm dog.

These are minor things, but real and recurring.

What do they mean? What’s happening to me? My mother who was familiar with the occult, said something kind of supernatural, that I was getting synchronised with the world, and it’s something good. It’ll be a long and uplifting process to which I should give myself.

I was sure something had begun, an unclear but real procedure, some kind of rite like getting possessed by a secret power, a knowledge. Not that I’ll possess the ability of wizardry, but a secret and personal clue, a supernatural support for the rest of my life.

As the time passed these signs became normal, part of my daily routine, nevertheless I realized something important. These signs weren’t forecasters; they were posterior, additional or occurred during the so called event, the signing and revealing procedure.

I started to examine these events and signs, noting my mood, the nutrition, the weather, and every condition that could be significant or could take effect on me, my mind, a feeling about the exact place where I was when I received the very sign.

Then an idea came into my mind. Maybe these signs were indices, to say I’m in the right place, in the right time, a feeling that I was doing something good.

A more profound question presented itself, is my brain connected somehow electrically to the world in a way science cannot describe it? A subatomic affair or an attraction beyond our knowledge, which could be unidentifiable, which couldn’t be decoded, which is buried so deep in my existence, I cannot reach.