17 April 2016

Story #5 Stuff full of elevating pleasures

Since my last post had a rather left-side convention this time I will take the third turning on the right and will get you bored with some bourgeois stuff. Bourgeois a la Village Girl - to clear it up from the very beginning.




Believe it or not but the Village Girl got stuck with the bourgeois subject for more than a week! The only thing she was confident about was the fact that she did not know what to write about. She was desperate to come up with the slightest idea, a hint, a tiny something to start with, but to no avail. Everything showed how little does she knew about the pleasures in life.
But why? - she asked herself, the Village Girl. - After all, I have been so smart until now!
No Answer.
The Village Girl decided to figure it out.

She prepared a cup of tea, put some cakes on a plate and made herself comfortable at the kitchen window. Apparently that was the best place for any kind of the Out-of-Nowhere-Appearing-Answers. After one and three quarter hours of sitting and gazing into an empty space the tea was cold and the Village Girl got bored. And the Answer had still not bothered to appear. 

Suddenly the Village Girl banged her first on the table and said - Enough is enough! Right after that she got up, ran out of the house, locked her chickens in the coop, hided the rake, then went back home, opened the fridge, took out a bottle and had a drink. The milk was off but it did not matter. In her head she was ready.
I'm ready!
Then she grabbed her little bag, slammed the font door and set off to find the Answer about Life’s Little Pleasures. 


She was travelling for years, despite many holes on the roads, murders round the corner and terrorists appearing out of nowhere. Most of the people would already have given up and gone back home. But not the Village Girl. Not her! She was unstoppable! By train, by plane, on horse, on boat, by bike, on foot, crossing of a river, crossing through the jungle - she kept moving forward and forward. She even dared to cross the Himalaya mountains!
Between you and me: she is a cleaver bitch, she did it in the full sun right in the middle of the summer time. I wouldn't call it a challenge!
Anyway, along her journey the Village Girl met plenty of Beings - Trolls and Fairies, Cockroaches and Garden Gnomes, Queens and Kings, not to mention Sir Mick Jagger, Dalajlama, Spiderman and President Obama. Unfortunately none of them could assist her out to come closer to the Answer she was looking for.


The breakthrough moment happened in a small city in the north of Europe called Brussels. There, in the early autumn, whilst looking for a place to sleep, the Village Girl saw a gigantic BOX on the street.
Hmm, a nice place to spent the night. With a carpet and a chair and some toys to play with and a beautiful view on the Brussels' street life... not bad at all. I will have a chat with this nice lady inside.
The Village Girl knocked on a plexiglas and said Hello to Aga who was the lucky one being in the Box. Never in a million years did these two charming ladies would think that that chance meeting would change their destiny. But it did!

I would like to spend a night here. On this funny carpet - said the Village Girl.
Well, this funny carpet was meant to be a part of an expo presentation but it could also turn into a mattress, why not - replied Aga.

So, the Village Girl (against any expo guidelines and general conditions or governmental security measures) was the first one to have the pleasure of spending a night in the Box. And to be honest with you that’s the moment when the story really begins.


Once Aga left the box the Village Girl made herself comfortable. At her disposal were there some interesting things: a red chair, a cartoon stool, a carpet, some wooden toys and a poster.

The Village Girl in her King-Box Apartment
enjoying the sunshine and connecting the carpet dots

The Village Girl said Hello to all of the things and for a while was just looking at them. They are nice – she thought - the shape, the colours and the texture. I like them. Than she started touching the things to see how they feel and smelling them and talking to them.
She even licked the carpet dots suspecting they might be candies! I am serious!
Once she had saturated all her senses she went to sleep. That night she had a magic dream. She was dreaming that all the nice things in the box became alive and were telling her their stories.

The Red Chair about the sadness of spending decades as a paper project in a dark desk drawer and the happiness of the day at being discovered by someone and finally created.

The Dot Carpet about the pleasure of being designed for kids, having the fun to playing with them and the relief of not ending up as a simple floor decoration.

The Wooden Toys were telling stories about secrets of the ancient woods, life changes and how it felt when it used to be a tree, got it cut down and turned into an object.

And the Cartoon Stool was telling about the joy that comes from creativity and a simple life enjoyment.

While the Poster took everyone into an incredible world full of incredible graphics where all of them were playing hide and seek.

The Box, on the contrary, was only making notes. He did not want to share his story. He only whispered to the Village Girl's ear: One day I will appear once again in your dream and tell you my secrets, my little Village Girl.

And right after that a mysterious smile appeared on the plexiglas’ window. 
Then, when everybody said what it was supposed to be say, they all built a fire and ended up singing the greatest hits of the 60’s, mostly Elvis.

The dream was over, but the big dreaming smile that was stuck to the Village Girls’ face at that moment stayed there the whole night.


The next morning was special and different to any other in the Village Girl’s life. Not only because of the beautiful dream she had last night but also because of a surprise waiting for her in front of the box. All kinds of croissants, black tea, coffee and orange juice on a tray and a blue skateboard with a short note stuck to it:

Who put it there?
No Answer.
The Village Girl did not spend much time thinking about it. She grasped a croissant, had an orange juice, washed her teeth in a next door café and made herself ready for the day of discovery.

The skateboard was a dream. Light, fast and beautiful! So that the skating down the streets felt simply amazing. The Village Girl was enjoying the ride: the wind in her hair, the sunshine on her face, the people on the street. Everything around looked more or less the same as in the other cites she had visited but at the same time totally different and new.
How strange – the Village Girl thought.
She decided to give up on the regular sightseeing and to follow the spirit of the day! Most of the time she was just skating down the streets and watching people. Nothing else. Then in the late afternoon she went to Forêt de Soignes, laid herself on the grass and contemplated the sky.

Can you imagine this?
Psst…, from a reliable source I know that there was more than that! The Village Girl was flirting with Suarez on the way to the public toilet AND, there is more! AND she was also begging for some euros for a sandwich from his Majesty Phillipe who was coincidently sitting on that afternoon on a park bench and was trying to hide himself behind his posh sunglasses!

The END 
or maybe just 

It was already dark when she came back to the box but she felt light and happy. Those were the feelings she had not experienced for a very long time. Now they were back and it felt great!

The Village Girl wanted to say thank you to the stranger who by act of a simple skateboard helped her out to get back to the feelings she had forgotten. In her pocket she had a Jupiler beer mat with a thank you note that she wanted to stick to the box. But to her surprise she has found another note for herself. She took it and read it. Then she looked around in a hope for the author of this message. But there was no one. Only an old women who was just passing by.
What a day! – said the Village Girl and went into the box to hit the sack. 
The day was over. 

Written by Sabina Stachnik

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