Dreams Ltd Read Online Free PDF Page A

- a lot of work to do, but maybe if you get some spare time...”
     
    Our conversation made Ted more agile and lively, he obviously enjoyed talking to someone. Even his long wrinkled face transformed. But because I had nothing to say I was listening to him without interrupting. It’s no harm if he speaks for a while, is it? My silence didn’t seem to bother him at all - he took it for a hidden interest and I was hoping to get a few precious droplets of information about Tally while listening about the flowers and plants he grew in his life.
     
    Our ride continued like that for another forty minutes. The mountains were surrounding us all around now. People began to shift, mumble anxiously and stretch their necks out like geese in an attempt to see more. Is it the first time for everybody here? Ted went completely silent. The reason for this liveliness became evident when the big rusty gates jammed in between the mountains appeared in front of the bus. The sign on the gates read “Authorised Staff of Area 33 and Official Vehicles Only”. The driver leaned out of the window, exchanged a few words with a man in the uniform and then handed something over to him. The soldier took the item - either a paper or flat box – I couldn’t see it properly from where I was sitting. He nodded to a colleague who was sitting in a glass booth and then the gate slowly slid to one side.
     
    “So here we are.” a woman standing to my right said. She looked at me with sad eyes and sighed. “And when will we get to go home?”
     
    I couldn’t find what to say.
     

     
    We all sat in a spacious room which I in my mind I named “The border": worn out marble floor tiles, dull white walls, plastic chairs. People sat on them, nervously tugging on their clothes or bag handles. A white plastic table was located in the distance where the officer in a cap was admitting “visitors” - one at a time. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about but I could see how deftly the officer rips each envelope with a knife, gives a visitor a package and then lets them go. After passing “The border" table people were disappearing into a narrow corridor at the far end of the hall. I was going to find out where it was leading to after another five people that were sitting in front of me in the queue. From time to time other military workers were passing the line, looking at people with interest and then disappearing into various doors. The sound of their hard-soled shoes was echoing on the marble floor.
     
    I fidgeted on the chair impatiently – I had an urge to pee and discover if they would check what’s in our luggage. Not knowing what was inside of mine made me feel very nervous. But according to my observations nobody touched the bags, at least not until the end of narrow corridor and that somewhat comforted me. Only a fortune teller, a prophet or Ted, who’d already passed that table, could tell me what was waiting for me at the end of the corridor. But neither of those was available at that moment.
     
    I was twisting and turning in my chair until the moment when my name was shouted out by the officer and I hurried to the table.
     
    “Good day. “ I greeted him cautiously and sat on the chair – a soft chair this time.
     
    “Good day, good day…” the officer laughed briefly into his bushy moustache and his reaction reminded me of the fat bus driver.
     
    What is so funny about my phrases?
     
    “Give me your envelope.”
     
    I handed the envelope over to him. I read the officer’s name on his badge – Carlos Brodsky. Wow, what an interesting name! Meanwhile Carlos ripped my envelope with a knife and took out a thin sheet of paper.
     
    I wish I could have read it before you.
     
    Brodsky quickly scanned the text with his eyes and looked at me with, what I thought, was respect.
     
    “Wow! Not bad, not bad! It wouldn’t have been possible to predict your talent judging by your appearance.”
     
    I barely stopped myself from