I get out of my office. It was a scorching day. The asphalt was melting under my feet as I tried to make my way thru the busy street to my apartment building.
The sun hit my head like a hammer, drops of sweating pouring down my forehead and under my ears make me feel sick. I could see thousand tiny flies in front of me. Yet, I knew they weren’t there. The noises around were deafening and irritating.
It was the aura of a migraine. I was already dizzy, only waiting for the excruciating pain to attack me. The last thing I remember is entering the elevator and pushing the 18th-floor button to go home and rest.
What happened next, I don’t know. But, when I woke up this morning, I thought I was dreaming.
It was dark and cold. I was lying on a cot inside a wooden cabin —a duffel bag with some clothes on the floor. I went out and saw something unique I’ve never had seen before: the dark sky with strange green waves: an Aurora borealis. I stood there hypnotized by the view.
Then, a man approached me and told me something in a language I didn’t understand.
-It’s the first time you see her? He repeated in in English
-I nodded, too amazed to talk
-You never get used to the North Lights. By the way. I’m Hans. Nice to meet you, Frank. He said with a thick accent.
-Wait! How do you know me?
-Oh, boy! I know too many things, he said and continued walking, leaving me baffled.
I entered the cabin and searched the bag. There it was: my passport with an entry visa in Norway.
I was puzzled.
From the passport, it fell a note:
Dear Frank, You have been acting like a zombie since that terrible migraine you suffered in August that sent you to the hospital for a week. Doctor Schmauss said you needed a change of scene.
You know my family comes from Norway, so I decided to bring you to your grandpa’s cabin in Nesna.
Unfortunately, I had to get back to New York to take care of your brother and sisters. I left you this letter because I don’t know if you have been fully conscious these days.
Our neighbour Hans will take care of you. He lives in the blue house.
Would you please call me when you read this?