Hoffnungslose Ziele II
Hoffnungslose Ziele II
28 May 1891 (Thursday), Diary of Anna Maria Strehl.
At Milwaukee, Wisconsin, United States of America:
I've spoken with Christine, or rather, "Alina." It is still very difficult for me not to think of my best friend as Christine Elisabeth Gauger, but she has fully embraced her new identity as the Goddess Alina, complete with shirking human clothing for her magical, self-made covering of giant lotus flower petals.
I needed my husband's help to call her. I suppose it might have been possible to send a telegram using the wonderful technological advances of humanity-thanks to Gustav and my brother's ideas about wheat farming, my husband's and my supernatural speed and strength when it comes to harvesting unnaturally large crops without the aid (initially) of expensive machinery, and very good investment advice from Johann and his husband back in the Old Country, we have amassed a comfortable amount of wealth. By placing that wealth into a "corporation," details Johann for the most part handled for us, we've managed to indirectly own the means to acquire multiple residences in which a "young" couple such as ourselves can seek refuge without arousing suspicions among the urban mortals about our complete lack of aging. Johann expressed confidence that Gustav and I might live, anonymously, in a large city indefinitely, the effects of modernity helping, not hindering, our need to conceal our true natures.
Yes, I could have afforded to send a brief telegraphic message across that wondrous transatlantic cable. Perhaps someday it might even be possible-as wild as it seems right now-to communicate by voice using Bell's magical-seeming telephone device across similar distances. If electricity and indoor plumbing are a reality for the newest urban refuges of the wealthy, why not personal telegraph devices or even telephones as well?
For the time being, though, we had another way to instantaneously reach out across the Atlantic to my best friend. Gustav careful wrote out a small prayer scroll in ancient pagan symbols as I fought the urge to cross myself, then burned the scroll in a candle's flame as we both concentrated on my best friend.
Within moments, Christine- Alina- was standing in our midst. Seeing her there with her radiant, platinum blonde hair, her skin a small sun emanating life-giving warmth and comfort, and her body covered only by flowers-giant violet lotus flower petals that sprung out of her back like wings, wrapped across her breasts and most of her midsection, leaving her navel slightly exposed, and an entire giant lotus flower sprouting out of her waist and, half closed, forming a skirt that covered her lower half to just below her knees. She was barefoot as always since her impossible return from Hell, and half a dozen or more normal-size lotus flowers attached to vines decorated her shoulders, her hair, and the top half of her body. She looked every bit an angel, or more correctly, a goddess.
"Christine!" I blurted out, rushing over and embracing my friend warmly. Any fear of how I might react to seeing her after knowing what her daughter and my Gustav had done was instantly dispelled by the sight of my best friend.
Alina put an arm around me, then grasped my arms and pulled back just enough to study my face. "You look...well..." she said absently, then broke out into the kind of grin I was accustomed to from our mischievous teenage days back in our hometown of Weizen.
"Gustav..." she added, nodding slightly to my husband.
"My Lady," he replied formally, bowing slightly. "It gladdens my heart to see you, but I suspect my wife wishes to speak with you alone. By your leave, then," he added, moving towar