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I heard my neighbor fall in love through thin walls. I heard her try on half her closet before their first date, heard several pep talks from girlfriends via FaceTime. I heard him pick her up that evening, rare, for New York. I heard him leave the morning after the second date. Not so rare for New York. I heard a lot more the night before that too but I’ll keep that to myself because I’m a lady.
A word on dress code. I’ve never held a man’s clothing against him. I understand that fashion isn’t everyone’s thing. I don’t expect, at our first meeting, to be dazzled by a man’s particular choice of outfit, because I don’t think it’s a fair thing to judge someone on. Further, I don’t see how a man’s fashion sense is going to be any real help in a crisis. Perfectly cuffed jeans tell me nothing of your spider killing skills.
I believe in ghosts. Spirits, phantoms, apparitions, reality television filmed in haunted shoelace factories, all of it. If a ghost challenged me to a hand of Texas Hold ’Em, I’d ante up. I believe things aren’t always what they seem, weird moments happen, and sometimes nothing can be explained.
Whenever you switch on your TV, there’s always something on that can get you hooked. I’m a movie maniac and I admit I’ve fallen prey to the modern trend of TV shows. I can see why creators bet on the format of TV shows. When I come back home and it’s around midnight, I can rarely make it through a two-hour-long feature. TV show episodes only last about an hour and in case the show is good, you get sucked in very fast. My favorites like Game of Thrones, Westworld, Twin Peaks, and others, those are all fine. But that’s not the right movie night. An all-out movie night means a bowl of popcorn, a comfy blanket, a switched-off phone. God, it’s been so long since I’ve given myself permission to enjoy this luxury!
I will never again say that desperate sentence, not even to me: “What else can happen to me today?” Not once, this sentence costed me a lot. Probably, it is the most provocative question targeting “somewhere above”. And there is always a clear answer coming back. I will seriously remember it! After a day hectic to the max, when the turbulence and the hurricane of bad news calmed down, I went to do some shopping. I had planned to spend the weekend at home and spend it creatively. I was not sure yet whether it would be painting or writing, but I knew for sure I would be creating. I had not been a creator for so long that I became a creature in fact.
Some days you feel like you could change the world. Make it fall off its axis with your own actions. Anything you touch turns to gold. You have the strength and the equipment to do it. I have no idea what the best thing to do on such days would be, but I’ve decided to sit down at a computer and type away. My muses keep kicking me so hard I sometimes wonder how I don’t have any bruises. I will always remember this day. This is the day my new Universum was created. The Vigils, you see, have slowly and inconspicuously taken up residence in the next novel I’m writing called CALIGO. They have squeezed their way into all parts of the story and have become its integral part.
Not having any connection to the Vigils and without me influencing it in any way, my day has been all about the colour purple. First thing in the morning, a lady in the biggest, most purple hat I’d ever seen walked into my gallery. She was looking for some light bulbs. I asked her if she thought my shop looked like a place that sells light bulbs and smiled at her. She seemed taken aback, then she looked around and ended up buying a scarf. A purple one.
y friend Matúš, a professional actor, writes amazing short stories. He’s only been writing them for himself mostly. It’s exactly the writing style and genre I love. Sometimes, we will exchange a couple stories and then have long talks about them. We basically write about the same thing and yet, the stories are completely different. In one way or another, we inspire each other in heaps. Matúš is one of the few people I’m willing to let into my literary kitchen and let him peak under the lids of my overflowing pots.
Sometimes, I get tired of how carefully you have to work with the term sci-fi in our country. You move your writing a bit beyond the limits of the possible and suddenly, you’re put in the literature ghetto. This is exactly how Ondrej Herec, the grand master of Slovak modern fantasy and sci-fi theoretician, phrased it. “Fantasy is a genre which, in our country, belongs to a literature ghetto. It operates parallel to the acknowledged ‘high’ literature. Fortunately though, it’s been slowly building its self-esteem.” After tens of mystery stories and two “light-fantasy” novels, I wrote a collection of short stories called VIGIL. More than anything, I find it romantic.