“Yaron, I was very surprised by the words of the man who, having overtaken us, turned around and said
“This is true!” It’s one thing to talk with fakes who fake the voices of our acquaintances, and it’s another thing when a living person behaves like a fake.
He clearly could not know what we were talking about, because we communicated in a different language and he most likely did not understand what he said and why he did it.
Do you remember, it was at that moment when you and I were walking down the street, discussing one important issue and could not come to a conclusion, is it so?”
It turned out that he, seemingly not knowing by himself, as if gave the answer to our question.
I think if we caught up with him and asked what he meant by saying this, then most likely he would have been surprised, shrugged his shoulders and said, “Guys, I didn’t tell you anything.”
Because, apparently, he himself did not even understand and did not notice that he told us something, but simply did what some energy-informational world that was in him, resonated and cooperated with some energy world in us, prompted him … Simply put, our demons agreed with his demons and used this person for a little show.
Then he immediately forgot all this. Rather, he didn’t forget, but he didn’t even understand and didn’t realize that he had done something. This sounds surprising, although it may be more common than we think.”
“It was also funny in the store, wasn’t it, Maayan?
Do you remember, as soon as we entered, several loaves of bread jumped off the shelves and fell to the floor. I took it as a hint and protest of our energoworlds against the use of bread by us, apparently they do not like it.
They want us to improve our health.”
“Looks like that. On the other hand, Yaron, maybe this is just a ‘dirty publicity stunt’ to steer our thoughts in the wrong direction?”
“And it is possible.”
“Yaron, elections are coming soon in Israel, let’s write a letter to Prime Minister Netanyahu, maybe he will forgive you our departure and we can return to the country. I always remember Eilat with great love — the unforgettable play of colors of the Edom Mountains, the incredible blue of the Gulf of Aqaba, my favorite desert landscape and the many open to us, positive people met there.”
“Of course we have to write, Maayan, I am already translating and sending the letter.”
“Yes, this is certainly more than original!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Here on Facebook, I was sent the new post of Prime Minister of Israel. You never guess what it is.”
“Tell me soon, you intrigued me.”
“It says that he forgives us and offers to return home to Egypt.
And here is a bunch of likes, including Adam, and Ariel, and Jorge, and Rafael Mendoza …
Only it is not clear why we are offered to return to Egypt?”
“I don’t know, but fakes have a good sense of humor.”
“Yes, it seems that they again decided to show it, now in relation to our old friend I.
I see a note from her in which she asks “What does this mean? Where are these photos from?”
Look, Yaron, actually, one after the other, a lot of some unknown where they came from photos of different people completely unfamiliar to me are sent from my account.”
“I don’t know, I didn’t write or send you anything.” ― I replied to I.
“Look for yourself!” ― I. wrote.
“Yes, I see. But I don’t know where they could have come from. Most likely these are the jokes of our energoworlds.”
I. is a wonderful person, but I knew that she adheres to very conservative views, absolutely denying the possibility of phenomena unexplained by traditional science.
I understood that any mention of paranormal phenomena and even more their manifestation annoys her, because she always tries to ignore them or squeeze them into the rigid framework of traditional explanations, and this is far from always possible.
However, where did these photos come from? I definitely didn’t have them on my phone.
I felt very inconvenient for the friend, as if I had done something wrong, and I began to delete the photo as soon as possible.
This process continued for some time, that is, I deleted the sent images, and instead of them new ones immediately appeared. Then I. wrote to me:
“Don’t delete them. We must try to understand their source.”
I stopped deleting photos, but now they suddenly began to delete and disappear from my friend’s account by themselves.
I. could not stand this anymore and blocked my account. She wrote me a note by e-mail, in which she informed about this, saying that apparently I had some kind of virus on WhatsApp.
But none of my other WhatsApp contacts, although in this little incident, I communicated with one of them, had a single photo or anything else spontaneously sent. So, if it was a virus, it was only a VIP virus, exclusively for I.
“Yaron, unfortunately, our three months in Antalya are coming to an end, we have paid for the apartment until May 1, we need to move on. Where? What do you suggest? Turkey has two neighbors where we can go ― Bulgaria and Georgia.. What do you choose?”
“Just not Bulgaria.”
“I fully agree with you.
True, I don’t really want to go to Georgia either. I was thinking about Albania, but it is much more difficult and more expensive to get there.”
“Yes, and only for three months, but you can live in Georgia for at least a year.”
“This is a big plus. Well, let’s go look for the ticket offices.
And, of course, to find out where it is better to pass the coronavirus test so beloved by demons.”
“Surprisingly, this time with the taking of the PCR test, Yaron, nothing shocking happened, so little things.
For some reason I really do not want to fly to Georgia, but tomorrow we have a plane, let’s order a taxi early, somewhere at twenty to five in the morning.”
“This is three and a half hours before departure? But for some reason I also want to leave tomorrow for the airport early.”
“Yaron, morning prayer, do you hear? All these almost three months it woke me up in the morning. The phone rings.
This is a taxi driver, he is already arriving, he arrived a few minutes earlier, let’s go, although we don’t want to leave. Goodbye Antalya, thank you for everything!
As soon as we got there, the road was free, it was only five o’clock, and we were already at the airport.
Yaron, the taxi driver asks which terminal we need, let’s look at the ticket.”
“Maayan, he says that at eight in the morning there is no flight to Istanbul, according to his information. We ran quicker, the taxi driver found out that our flight was postponed to an earlier time and now instead of 8.10 it leaves at 6.40.”
“We ran, Yaron, we have no money to buy new tickets. We took tickets not as usual via the Internet, but at a travel agency, and they did not warn us about the flight postponement.”
“You will definitely catch the flight, everything is fine!” ― the taxi driver smiled at us goodbye and showed his thumb up.
And it happened so, we made it.