I go to the malls again and bring my computer to write. That’s all for today. I feel like a San Salvadorian day, driving to his temporal workplace in the morning and back in the afternoon. It feels good and it’s amazing how quick I get used to a new environment. The 101D bus line between the center of San Salvador and Santa Tecla has no secrets to me. Or is this just the surface? Is it just a trick of my mind to forget that I am on an odyssey, or better to prepare myself to imagine how beautiful is Ithaca?
At night, some other couchsurfers have arrived at Amado’s place. A tall French boy who went to a German Waldorf school and a Polish boy with rosy lips. Dinner was very tasty.
THE VOICE
“Have you heard it?”
-“What?”
“The Voice has spoken again.”
-“The voice?”
“No, the Voice, with a capital V.”
-“How do you know I just said a small v?”
“Because I know your line?”
-“Come on, you’re kidding me.”
“No seriously, I do know your line. You should be more respectful to the Voice.”
-“Who or what is this voice anyway and what does it want from us?”
“It is the instance writing our lines.”
-“And you believe that?”
“Would you lower your voice please?”
-“No! And what if? If the words from my mouth are just words from the voice, who cares? Whatever I say, the voice says anyway.”
“Blasphemy! Burn this infidel!”
-“Did the Voice command you to burn me?”
“No! I mean, yes. I mean, I can almost be sure that that is what the Voice is going to say. So as a humble servant to the Voice, I…”
-“You execute the Will of the Voice even before he had the time to utter it? You should be ashamed of yourself!”
“Who are you to say that?”
-“I am the Voice.”
“Proof it! Proof it to us!”
-“There is no need and no possibility to proof this. But listen to me please. Before you execute the alleged Will of the Voice, retreat in silence. Prey!”
“What are you talking about?”
-“That was a joke to find out if you were listening. I mean pray.”
“That’s all?”
-“And then you gather the Oldest and Wisest and debate long about the words of the Voice before writing them down in your Book. Are those words vile and full of resentment? Or are they graceful and friendly? That is all that matters!”
“You liar! How dare you! We humans should judge the words of the Voice before writing them down? I never heard such a blasphemous idea. Burn him at the steak!”
-“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I was joking. I mean the stake. Pile up all the wood you can find and burn this infidel.”
-“Father, forgive them, they don’t know what they are doing.”
“I heard that. I know very well what I’m doing. So don’t moan like that. More wood! I want to burn all of the Pole!”
-“I’ll go now, hoping you will have a little more faith in me next year.”
“Go? What do you mean? And why aren’t you burnt to ashes? How did you get lose?”
-“Because you misspelled your word. Actually, I caused you to misspell it, because I am the Voice. Some penguins might have a hot afternoon, but burning the Pole is not going to affect my well-being.”
“What? You! Are! The! Voice? You be doomed and be blessed, o you impossible Lord. Please have mercy on me -“