Loky12345

When I came to my senses, I almost fainted! I found myself in the middle of the forest, but how? Memories of the last hours were jumping in my head like sunbeams...

- Hi Holly! It's been a long time! Are you without a husband today?

- He stayed at home with the children. He doesn't like parties, what do you want from him - a writer! By the way, he is now finishing a new book - "Misty Forest". He says it will turn the literary world upside down in the genre of thrillers. And also, I'll tell you a secret, it has a character with the same name as you.

- Very interesting! And when will it be possible to read it?

- I think we will be able to release it in a month... Alan, what's wrong with you!?

My memory started jumping on the trampoline again. Remember, I felt so bad that I flew straight to the floor with a glass of wine...

Then the fog appeared. An omnipresent, pervasive thick fog. I could almost lean on him. The hands that lifted me appeared in my memory, then the scalpel, the coffin lid, the rustling of the earth. I'm not dead, am I? But why am I in the forest? What strange rustling?

My eyes got used to the thick shroud a little, I think I'm next to a river. I began to make my way closer to the shore, but not through the thickets, but through the fog. He squeezed and restrained my movements, as if I were swimming. Leaning over the water, I was dumbfounded, where is my reflection? I looked at my hands, here they are and the body is warm. My mind finally swam with panic. Suddenly, right above my head, a whisper was heard. - Alan returned to the source. - Who's there? - His body was like a sack of earth, heavy and inactive. - Who are you? - He turned his head like a frightened animal, but could not understand that he had become only a character in the book. - What kind of stupid jokes?! - And he will not be able to get out of it until he goes through all its pages with the author...

*All pictures are created by a neural network.

AI created paintings based on photos of my cat.

We are all looking for a part of our soul that we lost many centuries ago. Why, we so desperately wander the Earth, look deep into the sky and sadly look at the stars. We are like blind moles digging in the ground of our problems, doing rubbish, just not to remember our loneliness. But many still remember. This sadness is still remembered by those who feel that they are stuck on Earth, that they were born on the wrong planet, at the wrong time. For some reason, our ancestors had to stay here. And now, having forgotten who we are, we are still on our way home. And they are waiting for us, other better people, remember us and call us home. One day we will become better, and we will remember who we are, and we will find our way home.

Images and music generated using AI.