Dark Sky

By Odeta Willow

On March 10th, when Athena paid a study visit in Turkey, Sakarya University, after the morning conference she sent the last message to Sanny:
"Happy birthday. Let the magic combination of three colour your existence and space. "


He continued on calling her, but she had no wish to answer the calls. She was so grateful to him for all the perception of the world he helped her to experience. She loved him so much for this shake, conversion, awakening. No malice towards him she ever felt. Even pain in her heart seemed to have such a value and spirit. She just blessed him for finding her... That he donated a little time to her. That he shared. Gave her this suffering. That he raised her and led. Holding her hands tight like babys...
It was 23rd March, the day, when Sanny wrote his first message on that dating site. It was the same next years March 23rd when Athena said goodbye to Sanny... But only mentally she got apart from him, never in her heart.
She hoped them to meet in some deeper space some time...


Book also has a Lithuanian version.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Dec 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781469132198

Book preview

Copyright © 2012 by Odeta Willow.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2011962008

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4691-3218-1

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4691-3217-4

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4691-3219-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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302727

I dedicate to my best friends

CONTENTS

DarkSky

Apniukęs dangus

DarkSky

I

She was sitting in the living room on the first floor. Downstairs she could hear the girls’ voices; her daughter was commanding something to her friends. The switched-on computer forced her to continue the translation. For the last few months, she was imposed such a big burden of the college accreditation, self-assessment, and other kinds of translations that she practically had no time to her direct work, not to mention the preparation to these lectures.

It was a silent, black, common March night, and as always, the evenings she spent alone. In spite of the fact that her daughter was playing on the ground floor in her room, she was alone. In her mind alone. With her feelings alone. Alone on her own way…

Athena concentrated and managed somehow. Opened a computer screen, ‘Anglon’ Lithuanian-English vocabulary and double-checked whether that was an adequate synonym in that particular part of the sentence. Read the sentence. Structure seemed to be good. Okay. Next sentence… She threw the head back and dreamed. Her mind and her heart long ago were under different paths, in constant argument. She had long relied on notions of ratio, although she knew she needed to live by her heart. She understood that the rationality enchained her, enchained like every other person who was surrendered by the dictates of conscience and ratiocinating. She wanted to be drowning in the feelings and get rid of enchaining duties and responsibilities as though in the shell, she wanted to feel, live, experience, and love.

Her fingers involuntarily touched the book. Sometime ago, at nights, after ten lessons, translation, and hours of daily chores she used to steal a book and then she felt true and complete. This time, it was Murphy’s The Subconscious Power of Mind. She knew that she would read the books until she finds the golden idea to replace, shaken and toss her, strongly and painfully. ‘If you really believe in that, you know it; make sure it will happen in your life. Thoughts transform in the reality.’ Mind control? Do I believe? Do I know what I want and desire?—She knew… in the abstract way, but she did…

A five-minute break. It was self-delusion, but rather like this as it followed. She opened some kind of dating site online out of curiosity. Virtual environment… she did not trust it. She was sceptical about it, and thought it to be negligible. Registered in the portal. Posted a photo. Not her own. She never downloaded her own photos online. ‘I do not want to share myself,’ she used to say. But after searching a bit, she found a similar picture to hers. Long, wavy, blonde hair, light and flowing, blue eyes, and perfect bodylines. ‘She’s so beautiful. Suits’, she thought, and closed. Not aware of what could be done there next. Searching for people? What? Why? There?

Another translation of the sentence was long and confusing. Not very clearly expressed, the idea even in Lithuanian, and how could this be formulated into English? She edited a couple of times, and finally left the first option. Maybe the first variant is always the best?

Athena was working for some couple of hours, until finally, the girls had to go home, and she should lay to bed her girl for the night. After the usual evening routine, she returned to her translation. ‘Another page, another one. Deadline is the day after tomorrow. I have to… ‘ But she could not. Could not force her and then re-opened the dating site. ‘Oh, so many letters?’ led by curiosity, she opened the letters and sneeringly grinned. Can’t all these men find a partner in any other way? Do they waste their time sitting here? Deleted and deleted again, and many more times. Dozens of letters. ‘Am I really so beautiful?’ Smiled. ‘Can they notice only this?’

Different men and different faces. Only ‘Hi’ or ‘I’d like to know you’. A lot of mistakes, or he smokes, uses alcohol, has a girlfriend, married or still studying. Deleted. Deleted this too. She wrote to someone like ‘Hello’. The same questions again: what do you do in life, what you are looking for, maybe we can meet? Athena shook her head. How stupid? ‘No, it’s never for me. A real bullshit’, then she wrote something to somebody, but later on she understood to have lost heaps of valuable time, she returned to the translation…

II

After taking her daughter from school, she rushed home. Entering through the gate, she saw a school-graduate coming. One and a half hour of private lesson, and she at once raced into the streets, rushing to get to college, where she had a group of adult learners. Athena learned to smile an American style. Although she wanted authenticity and sincerity, why had she lost what was of most importance to her—a sincere smile. Probably because life was tough for her at the moment. As a Damocles sword that translation matter. Spoiled the whole days, when you know that you were going to struggle with hundreds of sentences in the evenings, with aching eyes and fingers.

She saw her girl running to the yard. Together with her friends, she loved to rake the sand in the sand-box or to exchange the stickers, about which all the city kids were easily mad. Her daughter had the full-length album of stickers and felt indescribable pleasure to exchange them into a more pleasing one. When her girl was in the yard, Athena did not feel her child’s physical presence and it was easier for her to concentrate on work.

The first couples of translating hours always ran quickly and efficiently. She counted the sheets, just a few. Tomorrow it would be completed. Again, she found an excuse to satisfy her curiosity. Needed a break. She brought a cup of green tea from the kitchen, curled up on a comfortable armchair, and opened the portal. The one she had the same negative opinion, and inbox she found dozens of men’s letters, looking for no one knows what and no one knows why sitting on this dating site.

One caught her attention. Dark sky. Why did a person name himself like this? On that memorable 23 March he wrote to her…

DarkSky, 23 March 2010, 18.17

Hello,

You write that you can brighten the life to yourself as well as others. Well, it sounds interesting. It would be nice you would brighten it to me, just as I’m very demanding, I have everything, but still miss something.

Shakira, 23 March 2010,18.23

Hello, I am also demanding and strict to myself as well as to others. So what is missing?

DarkSky, 23 March 2010, 18.33

Tough question. I think if I knew I would have found it long ago. Maybe it could sound naive; I want something that would make my body vibrate and feel something, and to share. I am tired of jumping over beds, and I started to realize that it makes no sense any longer.

Shakira, 23 March 2010, 18.40

It means you haven’t met a miracle that would make your life meaningful.

I wish you to meet her as soon as possible.

DarkSky 23 March 2010, 18.46

But you have a sharp mind, and it’s a rare phenomenon. Amiable woman and a sharp mind. And thank you, now I know what I am missing. It appears—a miracle. Do you know where I can find it, or buy it, change it, gain it, reach it, or take it away?

Shakira, 23 March 2010, 18.50

I know, but, unfortunately, it’s neither sold nor purchased as it will quickly turn into an anti-miracle, but if you strongly believe in that, imagine, and wait—it comes by itself… And when you least expect it.

DarkSky, 23 March 2010, 18.54

I like quantum physics or transferring as well, but how to imagine a miracle? I do not want to appear rude, but have you ever found it for you? If so, tell me, at least a little about it.

Shakira, 23 March 2010, 18.59

Get interested in organic chemistry.

DarkSky, 23 March 2010, 19.04

For a miracle, I could take interest even in zoology. I do not know your morals and beliefs, but would love to meet you because something within you is appealingly interesting. I feel that you eat me as a child and that’s a little annoying, but it is also very attractive.

Shakira, 23 March 2010, 19.13

Thank you.

DarkSky, 23 March 2010, 19.22

Don’t thank me because I am convinced that not only all Pinocchios lost their minds because of you, but what is more, ice starts to melt in Antarctic because of you.

DarkSky, 23 March 2010, 19.23

And something more: I’m free as a bird; I travel like I’m crazy. What do you think: spit on everything and let’s go to the Maldives together in search of miracles?

Shakira, 23 March 2010, 19.42

For this reason, I should be at least aware of the person.

How else would I recognize you at the airport?

Athena turned the site off. She had no desire to go into confessions and personal stories. From so many men who wrote to her, only this was original, interesting, and different. But so what? She did not believe in the ones who wrote nor admired this particular way of leisure spending. She responded to them casually, without intrigue or curiosity. Just that she felt good being able to hit them because absolute indifference led her to sharp thinking.

She fell asleep alone after having cuddled her girl, wished her peace of soul. The same was spoken to her by the fortune-teller, speaking words to God, but not believing in the existence of the supreme. She said the mantra in which she thanked for the daughter because she was convinced even being at school she would give birth to a daughter, and even then, she knew her future baby’s name, thanking the supreme for being together with her child, love to her child, and for being able to fall asleep next to her. With each cell of the body, she believed in her pray because this was the only way she knew to attract the most beautiful things in her life that every woman wanted—to be beautiful and attractive, proud and independent, happy, loving, and loved. She always knew that she should not lack of money, respect, and love for people. She believed in that so holy… Therefore, she was praying…

III

The lectures were excellent. She was burning with a desire to share, to inspire, to give her students life lessons, experience, and imagination. She joked and dragged them out of their tongues so that they would feel useful, thoughtful, and accepted. She knew how to do it. With the students, it was easier. They gradually accepted her so strict, but fair, smiling, but critical. They fell in love with Athena because she loved them, as well. You could feel that. Respect just hung in the air. She did a little different in adults’ courses. Her strategy was the opposite: the administration and municipality officials initially wary, stared at a young blonde woman dressed fashionably. The blonde chuck—they probably thought—what could she teach us? She used to move in the audience, smiling, always trembling with excitement from which she could never get rid of, and introduced herself: I have a bachelor’s degree and currently search for doctoral… The audience hushed. Then she asked how they felt and always used the methodological game to eliminate fear. During the game, she would closely observe her students, noting their behaviours, thoughts, and expressions. Already by then, she would know many useful things about them. Then she was able to manipulate the info. She loved everyone, and she saw only positive things and not so positive simply slipped through. She rewarded her students with love and smile—either an eighteen-year-old teenager or a grandmother of sixty-four. Then she used to tell them about herself—her daily life, travel, and the unique moments that would covet the listeners. For example, Athena in one of her lectures on men and women’s rights, said: ‘Imagine, I am flying home from the USA alone, so young, terribly afraid, and longing for my relatives. Next to me sits a large, one hundred and twenty kilograms or so Georgian woman. She lived in America for several years and now returns home because she fell out with her fiancé. ‘Why?’ I ask. And she sets out: ‘We were preparing a party with my fiancé. He prepares the drinks and brings them to the guests. He hands the cups to their friends, and only then he comes up to me. Can you imagine he gave me no drink first. He brought the drinks to his friends! That’s why I broke the engagement.’ Work in pairs on the moral, continued her lecture. Then Athena listened and advised to everyone. Everyone felt like being special in her lessons. She noticed that if during her lectures a man peeked at the clock—she manipulated his or her time, if a man looked out over her—she knew that his weak point is women, and if she noticed some painting in the corner of the sheet of paper, she designated him or her a drawing or any other creative tasks. After all, she was literate enough to quote her favourite writers, to present her original thoughts, and forced to think philosophically. Even if it was on the possibilities of fate managing… She was all ears. In yesterday’s virtual conversation that DarkSky talked about it—management of fate or otherwise-transferring.

Immediately after the lecture, she ran to the teachers’ room, switched the computer on. Read his letter—the continuation of the previous day.

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 12.09

I also talk about the same. Just tell me how to meet you and then straight to the airport.

She turned it off. Was very scared. What she feared most—dependence? Dependence on an unknown man, on a computer, and on this portal. Bewildered she returned back to the audience.

IV

In the evening, she had again to deal with the same ill-fated translation. Those several pages appeared to never end. She felt exhausted, angry, and unhappy. Due to some additional work like this translation, she could not go to gym, go out, ride a bike, or just talk to her friends. She always had to sacrifice something. The same as her independence. Her desires and hopes. Really, did sacrificing start from these everyday things? Counting from then, long ago…

She put her head backwards, and as always, when she wanted to get rid of unpleasant thoughts, closed her eyes and smiled to herself,—it was an order. Athena remembered once seeing a film on water. It stuck the experiment results in her. A man was sending different energies to three jars of water where some sorts of crops were placed in them: to the first jar—a prayer and gratitude; for the second—indifference; for the third—anger, abuse, and aggression. After some time, the crops in the first jug grew up; in the second jug—dried; the third—got rotten and grew nasty. ‘If a person has such an impact on water,’—she remembered. ‘So what an influence has his or her thoughts, words, works to another person?’ Athena told her to smile. She smiled and then from somewhere deep inside, warmth and calmness were slowly penetrating. She relaxed. It was better now. and breathe, Athena, inhale. Deeply, quietly, smoothly. She knew how to calm herself, to hypnotize, to manage. Learned. So recently…

Athena remembered. The man, who spoke about transferring and some kind of physics, which she has no idea about, should also manage himself—to be able to control, to programme, and to feel. Maybe the people like him rely on feelings? Then she quickly entered the site, remembered a compliment, dedicated to her, and replied:

Shakira, 24 March 2010, 18.33

Beautiful people are much better than ice cream or Pinocchios.

And then knowing that he was curious how she looks, made a joke.

Shakira, 24 March 2010, 17.34

At least, you know that I’m blonde…

She was so proud of her artificially brightened in strips, but naturally blonde hair. She even liked to mock herself, telling jokes about blondes. There was one short and simple, she used to tell: one blonde says, ‘Yesterday, I did a pregnancy test.’ And the other asks, ‘Were the questions very difficult to answer?’

Then she got an answer to her yesterday’s question.

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 18.00

Well, then I’m dark, brown-eyed, my look is cold, but this is a mask, deep inside me there is a fire that could warm the world.

Shakira, 24 March 2010, 18.00

Detailed description.

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 18.01

I think I’m an awesome man. Maybe a little bit strange, but aren’t you sometimes the miracle, which we are here talking about all the time?

She then became involved, and why the hell did she then become involved? What did she lack that she started this game, which she despised and thought she would never get involved? What did she lack in order to fill her up, to accomplish her, to lighten…

Shakira, 24 March 2010, 18.08

I am a miracle… I just do not know… for which man…

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 18.13

Wow, you cannot even imagine how I would like to meet a miracle. I think, nothing else then would matter.

Shakira, 24 March 2010, 18.13

Maybe… but you have to try hard for the miracle to remain for a longer period…

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 18.25

Try, hmm… I would like, but I do not know how. I am inexperienced in that, searching for miracles. But if you are really the miracle, I will share with you everything, even my last breath.

Shakira, 24 March 2010, 18.28

That what I need least…

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 18.29

Do you want my pic?

Shakira, 24 March 2010, 18.30

I would love to…

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 18.32

Then send me your email, I will attach you one from the jungle.

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 18.33

What do you need most?

Shakira, 24 March 2010, 18.43

Opposite things…

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 18.49

Then take it—I give you everything.

DarkSky, 24 March 24 18.50

The photo is sent, do not be afraid. I’m just wild in jungle, but if you do not like, no courtesy is required.

Shakira, 24 March 2010, 18.57

Thank you, very nice.

Only very wild…

But different 302727-G111-layout.pdf

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 18.58

I can’t perceive if that is a compliment or criticism, but thanks, I like you, too.

Shakira, 24 March 2010, 18.57

Why such a courtesy? Why do you address me ‘you’ as plural?

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 19.04

When I want to show respect to a person, I call you as plural, even though it happens rarely, but how could I address a miracle, well, maybe only to ask, ‘What took you so long?’

Shakira, 24 March 2010, 18.59

Have to go.

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 19.01

I will be waiting for you.

Shakira, 24 March 2010, 19.02

It was very positive—talking about the picture.

Till later.

I have to run.

DarkSky, 24 March 2010, 19.06

Run, but it would be nice if you come back to me soon.

Signed out… She did not have anywhere to flee. No, she had to flee from him. Away, and as soon as possible because if she did not run away fast—she won’t be able to tear herself apart from him. She remained consistent. She would not return to the starting point because there was no way back. Athena knew herself. She knew that she was too sensitive not to believe she was said or written. She knew herself. She responded emotionally to beauty, to nature, to beautiful people, to a sentence, to a word. What she understood was that the man managed to use a word. Managed nicely. She understood that he had insight to the mind, hidden feelings, which he feared himself, and he used the feelings as traps to others. He knew that if she could not resist, others certainly would not be able…

His image. She loved another kind of men’s beauty. Men’s beauty impressed her. She was impressed by tall, dark, regular facial features men who used wit, and knew how to assist a woman. He was different: not tall, not in for sports or elegant composition, dark, brown, treacherous eyes, with southern blood. No, surely not Lithuanian. His image did not impress her. Quite the contrary. She chose to communicate with very beautiful and younger men. She was impressed by the jungle. Athena was captivated by the Eastern world, Eastern philosophy, and art of life. She was fascinated by human strength in self, self, and other knowledge, religion, and the way of life. Jungle was very close to it.

She shook her body. She converted herself to the translation, and after a couple of hours; finally, with a smile on her face she congratulated herself on the completion of the poison that stung her blood—translation. She was free! She was finally free… Yes, but only from translation. Was she free from him?

V

On that day, wearing a black-crocheted mini dress with high heels and silk long loose curly hair reaching waist, she was sitting in a department meeting, distracted, smiling, and anxious. She could not concentrate on the questionnaire results, conference planning matters, and other current issues. She unconsciously marked the tasks assigned to her, frowning, when the head of the department was carping the colleague on the backlog of work. Athena wandered with the eyes along the English scrabbled board. She would immediately flee to her house, and there no translation was waiting for her, no evening work. Quite unusual and uncommon. She would be home soon.

After rushing home, Athena immediately flew to her laptop. She was able to check her email at work, but she wanted her own environment, her newly renovated sitting room on the ground floor, where she made special floor lighting, planned her own interior design, and allowed her to feel very comfortable. She stretched out on the brown, leather couch and switched on the computer. And wrote to him.

Shakira, 2010 March 25 18.27

I came back to write to you that today is my birthday. Even the sun is shining on the occasion like this 302727-G111-layout.pdf

DarkSky, 25 March 2010, 18.40

Hi, my dear miracle, greetings to you, happy birthday. I am sorry I cannot give you anything, but sending you a feeling to which people have not figured a name yet, and I think tonight when you sleep, the wind will bring it to you. I wish you everything, what is illogical, but it provides peace of mind and happiness.

Shakira, 25 March 2010, 19.00

Beautiful words… Thank you very much…

DarkSky, 25 March 2010, 19.07

That’s all right, my sunshine, don’t, don’t thank me because I am convinced that not only all Pinocchios lost their minds because of you, but what is more, ice starts to melt in Antarctic for you.

She felt disappointed. It ached a lot. How many ‘copy-paste’ phrases had he got, using which he charms a woman? The same he uses to tens and hundreds of women? Is this a man whose leisure is called ‘one each single minute’? What he wants to prove to himself? The ability to conquer a woman? That they are naive and gullible? That the same phrase suits to all? She did not want to hurt him. Athena was too sensitive to hurt anyone’s heart. She just wrote.

Shakira, 25 March 2010, 19.08

Unfortunately, this phrase is repeated for the second time.

She now had fear, and perhaps respect, negative respect, which she felt for a person capable of manipulation, and she addressed him as ‘you’ in plural.

DarkSky, 25 March 2010, 19.11

And yet, talk with me not only in phrases, tell me something about yourself, just a little, and will you agree with me, it’s not every day that you meet a miracle. Of course, I am for freedom and, of course, do not want to take away all your attention, but it would be nice to know you a bit better.

Shakira, 25 March 2010, 19.12

You disappointed me with pre-constructed texts…

DarkSky, 25 March 2010, 19.13

Don’t discard me, texts are not created, only phrases, let me call you, and I promise, if you do not like me, you will never hear from me any more, and to be honest, I feel guilty.

DarkSky, 25 March 2010, 19.14

I can repeat ten more times. Why there is such a feeling where I feel like in a quiz show, where pluses and minuses are put, and the one to gather them more will be saved. Honestly, I would really like to meet you, but I do not know how.

Shakira, 25 March 2010, 19.17

And how do people meet?

DarkSky, 25 March 2010, 19.21

I don’t know. I think in clubs, in theatres, in cafes, and in the streets, but there I could find you, and where you are, I won’t know.

Shakira, 25 March 2010, 19.19

Do you feel guilty for the same repetitive phrases that act as hooks?

DarkSky, 25 March 2010, 19.24

I know it just came out. If you decide it is not worth to communicate, I will understand, and sometimes you understand, but it is too late.

Shakira, 25 March 2010, 19.26

Now I want the truth.

DarkSky, 25 March 2010, 19.32

Ask for anything. The truth is that I underestimated you, you write in short sentences, you have a sharp mind, which is rare, for the second time you eat me. To other letters I answer like a machine because I do not take the things seriously. When you wrote about a woman miracle, you surprised me. At first, I thought that you are an amiable woman, who has been in the hunt because it was written ‘other things’. But when you started to write, you became a mystery. I don’t want to analyze you. I want something… I don’t know. It is true, and I don’t know whether it helps or harms me.

Shakira, 25 March 2010, 19.37

Thank you. If this is true.

I am a wise woman, thank you. But I am just a simple woman who swelters from beautiful phrases like any other woman. Why a person needs to spend time in banality? Automatically answering, not taking things seriously?

DarkSky, 25 March 2010, 19.47

When I wished you a happy birthday it was from the heart. I do not know what is serious to others, but our communication was just phrases I do not think that you became interested in me. Time in banality? Good phrase. I think that even not believing, you are still looking, and as you said, for a miracle, and sometimes you yourself forget what you’re looking for. To be completely honest, I am not one of those sensitive boys, but I miss something, something… that pierces the chest, sometimes I want to howl like a wolf, and I want to embrace somebody and that this is not a theatre, artificial… I am writing to you the truth, and for the first time, I think. But I think that this should have happened. I don’t know if you understand what I’m writing here, and everything seems so messed up, but perhaps it doesn’t matter.

Shakira, 25 March 2010, 19.49

If I had taken it seriously, you would have had a hunting trophy already.

Going to a cafe to celebrate my birthday, that is, to drink a milkshake.

Have a nice evening.

DarkSky, 25 March 2010, 19.50

Sorry, I stopped collecting trophies long ago, and excuse me for my openness. Have a nice evening, and I think everything will be just the way you want. Thank you for letting me look at you.

And if you don’t write good luck to me, then you are really amazing and it’s true.

Shakira, 25 March 2010, 19.51

Honestly, thank you for the birthday words which were sincere…

Shakira, 25 March 2010, 19.52

Have a nice evening.

DarkSky, 25 March 2010, 19.52

unanswered Letter

Thank you.

Athena left. Some friends were waiting for her in a café. Later on, their husbands joined them as well. The girls were talking, gossiping, joking, and flirting. As in good old days—thought Athena—when the evenings were free when you did not require more and more money, when you didn’t need to throw a glance at the watch every half–hour, and when you were the hundred percent relaxed. A couple of hours were enough to relax. She was quiet at that time. Just she was so determined not to go to the portal again. When you decide, always reconciliation and peaceful hour comes with the new situation. She welcomed the fact that she was loved and surrounded by good people.

VI

Athena worked at high school on Fridays. She loved Friday. After it a long weekend, always waited for her, which she drank into herself as it would be the source of life and strength. Often at weekends, she visited her parents. She loved to drive her new Audi; she liked speed, usually put on her favourite song in full volume and sang it loudly together. Her daughter loved her grandparents, and loved to stay with them as they had the only granddaughter, so they indulged her buying everything in the supermarket under the command, ‘on demand’ and culminated with delivering dinner to bed exactly at midnight… Athena loved serious conversations with her father—particularly reasonable and intelligent man. Athena was fascinated by her father, his erudition and intellectual receptivity. Her father often spent nights at the computer, looking for information about Sarmatia lands, our ancestors as he said, and rewriting history again. The whole story from the Egyptian era was percolated through Lithuanian ancestral spirit according to her father, and he was looking for answers because he thought he knew the real, Lithuanian, majesty. Athena asked him to give his opinion on the questions she was interested in, and they debated, but most often, she just listened. She never dared to talk to her dad about her personal matters because she believed to solve her problems herself. Tomorrow she is going to visit per parents.

That time, a few weeks ago, Athena had an interesting conversation with her father. He was explaining to her:

‘Analysing our folklore, mythological, archaeological, linguistics, historical, astronomical, travellers’ findings, including physics, quantum mechanics, genetics, mathematics, philosophy, religion books, and geological sciences’ volumes, you should realize that the time to reveal the truth already have come. Rimgaudas Sinkus starts his series of articles in these words. Great authors of the past—Jonas Basanavicius, Marija Gimbutiene, Algirdas Julius Greimas, Ceslovas Gedgaudas, and contemporary scholars—Juozas Jokubauskas and Juozas Seimys, Antanas Rubsys’s works create an environment inviting to remain faithful to the cry of the past explorations.’

‘The cradle of humanity is the old Africa. Hence, the language of white people was born there, too, in that