Routine days followed. After arriving home - somehow safe and sound, considering the detour I took during my little nighttime adventure - I woke up the next morning unable to distinguish dream from reality. Vivid memories of walking through the night blended with strange dreams and doubts about whether I had really entered that building. The cold gaze of the receptionist was still fresh in my mind, but the rest of the experience, not so much.
Instead of falling into the old habit of doubting myself, I did what most people do: I accepted that I wouldn’t have all the answers and moved on. I already had enough to keep my mind occupied, considering how I neglected my studies last week, all in favor of mulling over thoughts about the non-existent building.
I was resting in one of those reception chairs, at the University library. In my lap, the old notebook shared space with a pre-calculus textbook, and to anyone who looked, it must have seemed like I was quite focused on my studies. In reality, I had lost track of what I was even studying about five minutes ago, when I found myself much more interested in the girl behind the foreign books section, and whatever she was doing.
Needless to say, I’m not the sociable type. I’m not unfriendly, but I’m also far from being extroverted. Still, I don’t have difficulty talking to a pretty girl when I see one. And I can attest that she was beautiful – a different type from the other girls commonly seen around campus. But what really caught my attention was not her appearance but her relentless search. In the shelves, among the books, on the wall, on the floor. It seemed like she had lost something and was determined to find whatever it was, searching with a meticulousness and dedication that I would never apply to anything in my life.
Whatever it was, it must have been small. Perhaps an earring, maybe a ring – which would mean bad luck for me – but she didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would wear either. I decided I would miss my chance if I kept thinking instead of acting, so I stood up and approached her. I didn’t approach her directly, of course. I always take the subtle approach. I inched closer, pretending to be interested in the volumes on the shelf, until we were close enough and I had the opportunity to ask:
- Hey, everything okay? Did you lose something?
She didn’t even look in my direction. Crouched down, she examined the point where the wall met the floor. My shadow cast itself before her, and I’m sure I spoke in a loud enough voice, at least in a tone acceptable in a library. But just like what had happened with the secretary in the building, it was as if she hadn’t noticed me.
- Excuse me? Miss? – I repeated.
I heard a very spontaneous sigh, as if taken by surprise, and the girl turned towards me with the fierceness of a street cat.
- Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. – I tried to remedy. – I saw you were looking for something. Is everything okay?
She took a few seconds to examine me from head to toe before responding. Regardless of her slightly critical look, I didn’t bother to imagine what she was thinking of me. She was very beautiful, and this was even more apparent up close. She had pale, flawless skin, and straight brown hair. Her features were youthful, which made me think she might be a freshman, but she clearly didn’t want to be seen – she wore a gray hoodie, with the hood covering her head. I didn’t even know it was allowed to walk around the library with a hood on.
- It’s nothing. – She replied, in a voice I can only describe as both timid and firm. – Just looking for something.
- Have you checked the lost and found?
She remained silent for a moment, as if the possibility hadn’t even occurred to her.
- No. It’s something that moves.
I arched an eyebrow involuntarily.
- Something that moves? Like an insect? In that case, you might want to talk to…
I didn’t finish what I had to say because I caught a glimpse of what she was looking for a very, very brief moment. A small shadow, projected on the lower part of the wall, ran like a blur from one shelf to another. Facing me, she didn’t see it, but she didn’t hesitate to follow my gaze.
- I saw it! – I said. – I just saw something there. It went from one side to the other. It must be a rat.
But when I looked back at the girl, her gaze was on me. She stared at me, intensely. And she had this strange expression on her face, something I can only describe as ‘stoic curiosity’ – she showed no emotion, but there was a certain gleam in her eyes, and that’s when I noticed how deep they were. Immensely deep eyes. It was almost as if I were being drawn into them.
The sensation was so strong that I had to step back. I don’t know what came over me at that moment, but it was like staring at the Sun. I hurried a goodbye:
- Well, I hope you find it. See you around.
She didn’t respond, but as I walked away, I felt the weight of her gaze on my back, her eyes following me as I gathered my things and left the library.
I only had one class in the next period. Instead of going home early, I decided to kill time on campus until the usual time. I felt like I was being watched the whole time. However, I am paranoid enough to be aware of my own paranoia.
I didn’t see the girl again after leaving the library. I had already dismissed the strange feeling from my mind and assumed that maybe she was a visitor, not a student. When it was time, I took my usual bus and headed home. I put on my headphones and listened to calm music while staring out the window, as always. In these last few days, I hadn’t been feeling as tired as I should, so that needed to be remedied.
I stared at the horizon as we passed the section where I could see the building. And as clear as day, there it was. I hadn’t paid much attention to it this week, but something about the strange encounter earlier made me think again about the building. And when I realized that, I noticed that there was something different about it, looking now. Something had changed. I was about to figure out what it was.
When someone sat next to me.
Her.
The Library Girl. Her eyes fixed on me exactly in a way I would prefer not to remember, but this time, she had a wide smile on her face. If you asked me, too wide.
‘You’ – I thought. And I resisted the urge to ask, ‘What are you doing here?’ After all, we were on public transportation. What I really asked was less redundant:
- Did you follow me here?
Initially, she didn’t answer. But what she asked next shook my whole world:
- You can see the building, can’t you?
It was a simple question, but I was unable to answer. I didn’t need to. She could see the surprise and anxiety shaping my expression. I felt as if my internal thoughts had been invaded, the constant questioning of whether what I saw and heard was real or not. The question I tried so hard to ignore, all coming back at once. And now I knew that somehow, this burden wasn’t just mine.
- Who’s your host? – She asked, causing even more confusion.
I still couldn’t answer, but I had the impression that, despite it, she could read me very well.
- You don’t have one, do you? Yeah, I would have noticed. You know, that creates a dilemma…
What are you talking about? – I exclaimed, perhaps in denial. But she could see through that too.
- Come on, don’t be foolish. You’re seeing things you shouldn’t be seeing. You saw that. – She pointed to the building. – And you saw me. So, what’s so special about you?
The question could have been genuine, but I still wasn’t able to process it. So, I just nodded, and following the exchange of questions, I asked:
- What’s your name?
She leaned back, sinking into the cushioned seat.
It doesn’t matter. – She replied. – Do you want to go to the building with me?
For some reason, far beyond my own understanding, I said yes.
It was like an instant transition for both of us, side by side, facing the staircase that led to the building. Until today, I can’t say if we walked the whole way or simply appeared there. I have memories of the former, but the feeling of the latter lingers.
With her hands buried in the pockets of her hoodie, the girl alternated glances between me and the entrance of the building.
So, let’s go? – She said, and I couldn’t help but follow her.
We climbed the steps, and she opened the door. We entered that same reception hall that I expected to see only in dreams. It was now clear how vivid my memories were. The same desk, with the same receptionist, but this time, she looked at us the moment we walked in.
As if she were a regular visitor, the girl announced:
- It’s okay. He’s with me.
And the receptionist immediately went back to typing.
- Come. – She said, as i followed her.
We crossed the corridor of expensive wooden panels, reaching the last door, the elevator. The corridor also branched into two distinct paths, left and right, but it didn’t seem like we would be following either. The girl pressed the button to call the elevator, and we waited. We entered a fairly conventional elevator once the doors opened, and only when they closed and we were alone again did I gather the courage to ask:
- Where are we going?
She smiled and said:
- You’ll see.
In retrospect, I should have noticed some details. I think I was too anxious to pay attention. I didn’t realize she hadn’t even selected a floor when the elevator started moving. And yet, I don’t even know if I can describe the feeling as movement, more like the certainty that we were going somewhere. When I enter elevators, I usually feel when they start going up or down. There’s always that initial movement, accompanied by a brief feeling of nausea. But I didn’t feel it this time.
And when the doors finally opened, all I could conjure in my mind was:
‘’This is impossible’’
Many times, in fiction, I’ve seen people attempting to describe impossible things. Things completely removed from any sense of logic and reason, space and time. And often, I end up feeling that they haven’t quite conveyed the sensation through reading. But then, how does one describe the indescribable?
And what I was seeing was indescribable. I could throw technical terms like ‘non-Euclidean geometry’ or describe ‘spaces within spaces,’ but nothing would do justice or replicate with precision the experience of what I witnessed. So, I’ll cater to our poorly developed brains and stick to a description that is little more than a fragment of the shadow projected by a distorted mirror, the mirror being what my eyes could comprehend.
Glass. Bright and frosted, walkways of colored glass crossing spaces that began and ended in infinity. A liquid and morphic infinity, composed of spaces free from the restrictions of human logic. People crossing the walkways, reflections of the infinite, trees and shops and white marble fountains, pools and bars and clouds. The most abstract idea and the most physical space, day and night coexisting together in the same instant of a chaotic and highly evolved harmony.
It was marvelous. And horrifying. I couldn’t fully compreheend what i was seeing, so i guess both horror and wonder meshed together in that brief instant of complete disbelief.
After that experience, I could be both a poet or a junkie, and neither would do justice to what I witnessed.
- “Pretty cool, huh?” - The girl said, perhaps in euphemism, perhaps because she saw something quite different from what I saw. Which wouldn’t be difficult, considering how everything changed in a matter of seconds.
I looked at her as one would look if God himself had taken physical form right there beside me. And all she did was laugh, a shy and reserved laugh, before asking, “Where do you want to go first?”
To be frank, it’s very difficult to describe what happened next. That’s because time, like everything else in that place, doesn’t follow rules. I might have spent a lifetime or just a few hours, both experiences true and false at the same time.
I swam in seas within pools, on clear and ethereal days where suns within suns illuminated an endless summer. I witnessed the cyclical birth of the most dreamlike nights and traveled with her to the farthest star, from where I returned, and also did not return.
I had drinks with shapeless ideas and idealess shapes. I saw women tanning in the light of a thousand stars, and children of some impossible kind playing with their own light. I saw other people like me, accompanying other beings like Her. And for all that and more, I managed to forget that I was human.
And at the end of the night, I found myself with that girl on the balcony of the impossible building that rose above everything. Far below, I saw the whole city. My city, in its human simplicity, with sparkling buildings and all the nightlife, shrouded by a starry sky.
The Girl leaned over the railing, almost as if she wanted to jump from up there. We gazed together at the expanse of the city and the horizon ahead.
- Why are we here? – I asked. I couldn’t even remember when we had left the infinite.
- Rest. – She replied. – You know? Like when people leave the party for a smoke break?
I shrugged and approached her. I stared into her eyes, unafraid of being drawn in by them again. Eyes that, this time, didn’t meet mine, fixed on the city ahead. A serious, unrealized, and distant expression.
-What’s your name? – I asked for the second time that night.
- I already told you, it doesn’t matter.
- I need to call you something.
- I don’t want to be called anything. I don’t need names.
- Can’t just call you ‘Girl’
- Girl is fine.
- Alright, then. – I said, looking down. – Listen… what was all that about?
She burst into laughter, as if she were holding back. – You’re asking that now?
- It’s just that… when we are inside that place, it’s kind of… hard to focus. A bit trippy, you know?
- Yeah, I know. For you, at least. Maybe you’ll get used to it, maybe not. It’s like bringing your dog to the opera.
- You’re kind of a jerk, has anyone told you that?
She laughed again. That laugh was so good to hear that I could only smile.
- Did you like that floor? – She asked.
- So there are others?
- Yeah. This place is like a hotel, or like a meeting point for my kind. People aren’t usually able to see it.
- So, who’s your kind? – I asked. I hoped we were close enough now to hear the truth.
- She sighed. – Let’s go for a walk.
- Should we go back inside?
- No, I can see a park from up here. Let’s go there.
I nodded.