There is a Forest on The Moon

“There is a constant humming in the ethereal void above. It lays its trail from the steps of its silent orchestra and latches onto dust particles hurling through the cosmos. It plays its tune to its starry audience with all their glitz and glamour and Gods of the solar systems attend and applaud. There is a constant humming in the ethereal void above. I’ve never heard it but I've felt it. It hums through me and it hums through others too and for those of us who feel the humming, we are just chords being executed by the ultimate conductors, we are strings being plucked by the musicians of time. Have you ever felt it, Doctor?”

Doctor Melquiades sat across the room from me in his usual cream shirt, white coat and brown trousers. His black hair was gelled back and individual curls were meticulously placed to fall in bounces. He always looked occupied, his brown eyes couldn’t sustain eye contact for very long.

“I don't believe I have. Why do you think you hear this humming?” He always asked in a tone weighed down by his doubt.

“I’m not sure, and I think that is okay. I have not yet evolved to the stage where my mind can even comprehend any form of an answer. For now I can only rely on conjecture, Perhaps next time around I’ll get closer.”

“Next time around?” That got his attention.

“My next life.”

“You believe we live more than once?”

“I believe we are alive right now more than once.”

“If we live more than once, or are alive more than once, why fear death?”

“I think you know better than me, Doctor, that what humans fear the most is the uncertainty of what lies behind death’s door.”

“Why do you refer to death as a door?”

“It is an opening. What if, Doctor, when one dies, they walk through the door and into a never-ending hallway. Along this hallway there are countless doors on either side. What if we can walk into one of those doors? What if death is just the corridor between different horizons? Different forms of existence, perhaps different times of existence all of which are you but not quite. Different in some way.”

“And you think death is the only way to arrive in these different ‘Horizons’?”

“To ‘Arrive’, yes. To glimpse, no.”

“Would you like to expand?”

“Do you know who Eugiene Violett-Le-Duc is, Doctor?”

“No.”

“He was the architect who took up construction of The Castle of Carcassonne in the 1800s. He said he built the castle based on visions he saw in his dreams. Would you like to know what he dreamt, Doctor?”

“Sure.”

“He said he dreamt of a different realm, a different dimension. This dimension was on a planet called ‘Carcosa’. He described it as being terrifying, seeing sibling suns playing in the sky and huge flocks of birds flying in spirals. He said he saw a parliament of Owls watching him, turning their heads as he walked by, hooting and hooting. He saw flowers that were alive and predatory, and finally he said he saw ‘The Yellow King’. He said that this place, Carcosa, was only accessible through death. When Le-Duc was constructing the castle he said that the true structure of this place can only be seen when one dies.”

“So you believe dreams can be windows into different dimensions?

“You always ask questions in ways that feel weighed down by your doubts, Melquiades.”

“It’s Doctor Melquiades, also do you intend on going through this door? Do you intend to harm yourself?.”

“When you first introduced yourself to me I was very excited after hearing your last name. I thought you would be as inquisitive and mystically curious as your namesake was.”

“My namesake?”

“Yes, the Melquiades I know was the alchemist of Macondo. I thought I would be your Aureliano.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Because you choose not to. You choose to not believe in impossible things which is understandable but what if, Melquiades th-”

“Doctor Melquiades.” He corrected.

“What if your mind is a dark room. Now imagine yourself standing in the middle of this dark room and you’re stumbling around because you can’t see anything. You have your arms outstretched and your hands are searching for the wall, the lightswitch, anything. Belief is the light. It illuminates that dark room in your mind. What you see in the light surprises you for things are not where you thought they would be, especially the door.”

“What are you asking of me?”

“I am not asking anything, I am telling you I believe there is more in you than you know. Every now and then I encounter someone and I think to myself, If our heights were measured in kindness, that person would be a giant. I believe you have a giant in you.”

“I think that is enough for today.” Melquiades said as he picked up his phone, “Cooper, patient number 3 is ready to be taken back to their room.”

Melquiades looked at me with his brown eyes but couldn’t sustain eye contact for very long. After a moment Cooper walked in with his usual blue and black security guard shirt, black trousers and a baton strapped to his waist.

“There is a constant humming in the ethereal void above, Melquiades. Try to listen with more than just your ears.” Cooper took my arm and pushed me out of the office, out of the lobby and into a long, never-ending hallway with doors on either side.