The Two readers
The two of them, they are both mind-readers, as you see them seated side by side, totally absorbed on their readings, and deep meditation. And the two are storytellers also. At hours, both of them, they can tell you something you want to know more about it, each one on his own way. Both are mediums, in a singular way or some sort, but they read something, before telling you a story.
That is, before to write, you have to read, and then when you are writing, you are talking to someone; your reader.
To read is to fly, and that is, it’s just so true, that when I saw the photos seen above, and in scrolling the Blog, it flew me back to the 60’s, to those years of Golden; the Retro Era: Decades before, it was it was Rag Time, Swing, Blues then, now it’s the Rock N’ Roll Time, and the Beat Generation. I had then just turn twelve years old, an age, it was the same age as of the youth of the post-Independence of Algeria, the Algerian state, which it happened that it just comes to live, with its kinder no-worries in mind youth at that age of ours, sweet sixteen and having plenty of years to live, ahead of us, life yet to be grab as it comes and to just enjoy the happiness, rediscovered after having lived “the hell at 10 years old.”
If you look at both the Magician Zoltar glass-paneled box, aside the seat where the Writer is sitting on, the shoe-shining seat-booth; those sets belong to that retro era, how dear they are to the boomers generation, for remembrance, born at that epoch, and now is looking for it’s lost bearings among the tumult of modernism
It was the time of tender and sweet Thursdays-afternoons, we had reassess in that time. The elders, the generation above, preceding the age of our, them they had their ballrooms, with Mambo, Cha-cha-cha, and passo-dobble, Twist and Rock n’ Roll; ours has dances(parties) after-noon, in your house; with your parents consents
Nonetheless, we used to go to the movie theaters, besides the day when we didn’t party. Which movie theaters, were most of them located in Algiers-Center, the Capital, like to say, Times-Square, in New York.
At the end of the lines transportation, Place Audin, where the bus-stops, we stepped out from the shuttle that we took to get there. Going downstairs, there is a criss-cross underground passages for pedestrians, with shops, cafeterias, and a shoes-repair shop, and an automate fate-reader at its entrance. Before further do, I had to confess to you, reader, that I was credulous enough to believe in magic, at that age, and with a 5 cents, you can get a fate reader card from the automate fortune-teller deck, Zoltan, inside the glass-paneled box, that you followed the hands gestures, in visu, the process of reading in the crystal ball, and the delivery of your card through a process worth of a fine clock mechanism, to finish out of the slot in your hand. Until that day, where the charm was broken, when I saw a handyman, opening a panel on one side of the booth , and putting a large stack of printed fate cards in a deck-like of playing cards casino. Suddenly, The magic was gone, then. I think, from that day I ceased to believe in tooth-fairies, and something of cool skepticism belief had slipped inside me since then, the spell was broken. Tell no one, trust nobody in New York, like the saying goes, or elsewhere something the same.
Could you believe it? if the fortune-teller told me that you’ll cross the seven seas, and one day you could read this blog on your reader(tablet)… May be I could dream of it only at that time, by then, it was still the time of Flash Gordon, and Superboy, Sputnik, Spaceman, on black-white TV, and 2015 was away too far in the future. Then, It was permitted to have a daydream.