Every time I finish a book 've read, like a little death. It trembles with the heroes, as they set aside every minute and at the end when I collapse the book for the time being, last time, will put a small part of me with the shelf.
Actually, I already wanted to write something about it earlier this week, but I wanted to wait until I have the book "The Alchemyst " done reading. Last night it was unfortunately so far. Unfortunately, the second volume because I'm not here yet and would like to know how you go on. After the first few chapters I had the book cast a spell, it can be so nice to read fluently and I was a little surprised when after a few hours already reached in the middle of the book was.
On Monday I was 7 1 / 2 hours by car around and I had read on the flight from Munich to Frankfurt in my reading material. After a stop, an elderly gentleman sat next to me and spoke to me then to my book "Materia Prima " . Only recently I had read in the book that Nicolas Flamel had actually lived and his time a famous alchemist, because I still have this insane luck on my trip to meet someone who also is with the theme Alchemy busy. Unfortunately, our journey after an hour over and I regret it now, have not asked the man if we could stay in touch.
home I talked more with a friend, whom I told of course very excited about this new information, which for him was anything but new, and from him I also learned that the grave is empty. As my heart was directly adventurers later, most of all I would immediately moved to Paris to research a little yourself. Four years ago I would have been so spontaneous, but with one child does not indiscriminately on a trip like that and you can not do if we except "hello" and "goodbye" does not speak a word of French.
The topic I ran all night no rest. Tags on it I called my mother to check on how my trip was. Of course I told her of Nicholas Flamel, what I had experienced and how exciting is the idea that he might still be alive. Usually my mother is also to have such issues, but unfortunately it also has a habit of spoiling one accessible at the wrong occasion, the joy. The same happened this time. A hopeless dreamer who fancies only after hunting, she has called me. What's so bad about it?
The whole reminded me of a few beautiful moments in my childhood. I can still remember how I've done the first time a lot of thoughts about fairies and elves. Am with a bowl of milk in the garden and they have made under the hedge, and then I waited at the kitchen window to the fairies. Of course, in vain. Later, the two cats of their neighbors had drunk the cup empty.
What has not prevented me to continue to watch closely the garden, in the hope, but nice to see a fairy. So really I have the today still not filed and I hope it stays that way. For nothing in the world I would like a gray-lazy, half-dead adults.
After my mother pulled me down and had my day went by, browse to, my thoughts began again to revolve around Nicholas Flamel and his myth. I wondered how I would happen to him if I would have arrived in Paris and then I remembered the film "National Treasure". of a sudden I felt a bit like Benjamin Gates, no one wanted to believe and yet every note is investigated. It would be really incredibly exciting when all this were true. When Nicholas Flames had actually created the philosopher's stone and gained immortality.
Yes and sound directly back my mother's words in the ear "There are absolutely no evidence." So what? There is no evidence that God exists, yet people believe in him / her. What's playing at all for a role. If I had the opportunity, would I immediately get into the car and take this journey. One never knows what one expects on a journey and that's the point anyway. The journey is the destination.
It's about the tension, the excitement, the thrills, the people you meet - the point is to feel alive.
"Who knows - maybe that was the man with the French accent, who was sitting next to me on the train and had a talk with me about alchemy, the Alchemyst Nicolas Flamel." ;-)
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