I am writing to tell you that I am thankful for your help. Rebeg contacted me and the other alchemists to tell us the results of our mission. It turns out that everybody survived and the planet is thriving. Thanks to your contributions, arganee has new connections and knowledge.
I visited Earth the other day and decided to travel around. Yesterday I flew in that flying metal bird you call a plane. Looks like some futuristic torture device, made to break a human’s mind. I sat there for 6 hours to end up in the wrong place. Isn’t Tokyo in the Bronx? I ended up in some strange place called New York City in Europe. And then when I tried to get to Kean University for the party, I ended up in Cambridge.
Rebeg contacted me and said that there is a rip in the time continuum. I don’t know where it is, but hopefully in a more hidden place than last time. It supposedly is a direct gateway from arganee to Earth. The last gate was the reason why arganee became “explosive.”
Tomorrow I am going to collect a box of Earth items and traditions to take home with me. Hopefully they will be beneficial on our kind. I like that game you play. It is called Team Fortress 2, right?
Your world is strange, but has a good vibe. You and your other goaafy friends will be remembered as heroes (I think. I have to wait for M’s approval). I have to say goodbye now. Arganee needs me. But I will see you soon. Peace out!
I am sharing with you my “Cooking with Anger” alchemy. Hope you enjoy what is on the menu!
A Pinch of Homesickness
1/8 whisper of disapproval
1/4 pinch of homesickness
One day a 17 year old boy was walking down the street, dreaming of becoming an archaeologist. He was just about to be home when he saw a tattoo shop. He thought to himself why not check it out. When he went into the shop, he noticed a strange symbol on the sample board. That would look cool on me, he said to himself.
45 minutes later he came out of the shop and started to walk home to find his mom worried sick. “Where have you been!? Your dinner is…” She paused and looked down at his tattoo. “…is on the table.” The boy sat down and started eating. “What is in this soup?” he asked. His mom responded by saying “Some coriander and ⅛ a whisper of disapproval.” His cheeks turned a bright shade of red, for even though he felt no pain when he got the tattoo, he didn’t realise the pain might be felt by others.
The next day in school his teacher stopped him at the door. “Where did you get that tattoo?” She asked. He then responded “At the new tattoo store.” She then she said with a seriousness on her face “That symbol you chose is an ancient sign that means that the wearer seeks something. Perhaps what you seek is buried in the past.” The boy was puzzled. The whole school day he was thinking about what his teacher said. He decided to leave home to dig up the past in search of artifacts, traces, and more whispers.
When he arrived at his apartment a bottle of champagne was sitting at the table. “What was there to celebrate?” he thought to himself. The label said “MADE WITH ¼ A PINCH OF HOMESICKNESS”. All of these signs seemed to foretell his departure, like his life was controlled by a divine force.
He placed a note on the table that expressed his regrets. He took one last glance at the apartment, then left.