During the show, at the right wall of the projection room, next to a black curtain concealed the entrance, appeared a man whose presence of something Uncle Heńkowi recalled.
"Busy usual for me these thoughts, I'd go ahead on the wet pavement by one of the quietest and the oldest neighborhoods in the city. Suddenly, across the street, I saw in the darkness of the old, stone, poszarzały wall, which is usually looked happy, there was always the old and comfortable, the small church and the old hospital. By day, my eyes often rested on his rough surface, such as quiet, good, there was little silent faces downtown, where it usually is on every piece of the wall shouting his company an office, a lawyer, an inventor, doctor, hairdresser or pedikiurzysta. And now again I saw the old wall, standing quietly and calmly, and yet something in him changed. I saw in the middle of a small, nice portal with pointed arch, which confused me zbiło, because I really did not know whether this website was always here, whether it was only now built. Undoubtedly look archaic, it appears likely that a small, closed gate at the door of dark wood for centuries has led to some dormant monastery courtyard, and makes it even today, though long gone monastery and probably a hundred times I saw this gate, but he never drew attention to it, may was freshly painted, and therefore caught my eye. In any case, I stopped and carefully looked at the other side, but not crossed the road because she was wet and sodden, stayed on the sidewalk and just looked at the other side, everything pogrążało already in the shadow of night, When it seemed to me that the door obwiedziono wreath or some other colorful decoration. And now, when I asked myself the trouble to examine more precisely, I saw a bright sign on the portal, where, apparently, there was an inscription. Sight, and finally made an effort, despite the mud and puddles, crossed the street. Only then I saw over the gate, the greyness, I know a greenish wall, shining satin stain, after which the stain expert and moving, colorful characters and disappear soon, zjawiały again and again disappeared. Of course, I thought, now, and this good old desecrated wall lights advertising! Meanwhile, deciphered some words, appearing briefly, were difficult to read, had to be in the mid-guessing, since the letters appeared to at irregular intervals, pale, faint, and fading fast. The man who wanted to do business, he was not clever, it was - poor fellow - steppe wolf, why he had his letters dance here, on this wall, in the darkest street of the old town in the rain at the time when no one is not passed this way, and why the letters were so volatile, an ethereal, whimsical and unreadable? But stop, now I did, I could grab a few more words, they sounded:
Magic Theatre
entrance not for everyone
- not for everyone ;
I tried to open the gate, but the heavy old door handle did not move even under pressure. The game ended with the letters, she broke off suddenly, sad, aware of its futility. I took a few steps,'ve come in the mud, the letters have not appeared, the effects of fading light, long I stood in a puddle and waited in vain.
But once I gave up and got back on the sidewalk in front of me fell on the tarmac a few shining light colored letters.
read:
only - - to - - bulbous - - kanych!
marzłem soaked his feet and, still standing there still fairly long in anticipation. But it's no longer there. When I stood, thinking about how nicely the humid mknęły masonry and asphalt black glossy soft, colorful flames wrong letters, I suddenly remembered a fragment of my previous considerations: similarity to gold, rozbłyskującego track, which unexpectedly becomes distant again, and not to found.
froze and went away, dreaming of the track, full of longing for the gateway to the magic of theater, which was only for the insane. Meanwhile, I've come to the area of \u200b\u200bthe market, where there no longer was the evening's entertainment, every few steps there was a poster and a sign encouraging: women's band - Cabaret - movies - dancing, but that's not for me, it was for "everyone", for normal women who have spent waves to the crowd go . Despite this, my sadness has dissipated a bit, after greeting me musnęło from another world, zatańczyło some colorful characters, played on my soul and touched the hidden chords, flash golden trail became visible again. "
Hermann Hesse, prairie wolf. Translation - Gabriela Mycielska
