John was sitting at his usual place at the bar in his favourite joint. He was gloomy, quite often lately before holidays. In this case it was Christmas. He thought with disgust about armies of Santas in streets, tons of cut Christmas trees, thousands of colour light bulbs spending power… In fact, the real reason for gloominess was his inability to fit in the general good mood. In his late thirties, with dull job without prospects, John was gaining weight and loosing hair year by year. Occasional emotional relations with the opposite sex were getting rarer and ending more quickly. He was obviously becoming less and less interesting as a potential husband, romantic lover, or even a friend due to his bad temper. He switched between dark moods, thirst for quarrel and nervous rage.
Luckily John had no tendency for alcoholism. He stopped drinking beer at his youth (it gave him headache) and vine (caused heartburn). And he knew where to draw the line, three whiskeys max. Sometimes he would be tempted to drink more, but strange things started at the third glass, so he always stopped. Towards the end of the third glass John would start seeing things. In fact, creatures. Or more precise, movement of some shapes on the edge of his field of vision. He checked many times, it was certain that it was something only he could see. The effect was not related to place, type of whiskey and whether he consumed it with or without ice. Few last sips of the third glass were so hard that he never continued.
At least, until today. He had never spent Christmas Eve alone before. This year he had no partner and relatives were within their family surroundings where he didn’t fit in. Further more, he quarrelled with some colleagues and left early from the job, skipping the usual joined outing. On top of everything, the girl that usually works as a bartender, with whom he could exchange few words here and there, was absent. Some kid, with greasy hair and almost as gloomy expression as John’s, was serving drinks in the grim atmosphere of almost empty joint.
That was how John ended staring at the fourth glass of whiskey, still full. He knew he had never crossed that boundary. Lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. “The hell with it!” he murmured, drained the glass and put it back on the bar. Remaining ice cubes rolled longer than usual until stop. John rose his head and looked around. Everything seemed in slow motion, with some creatures wandering and passing by, appearing and disappearing like ghosts. Since neither bartender, nor a couple of usual drunks, showed signs of noticing something, John concluded he was hallucinating. Still, he noted that creatures always used specific paths. One looked particularly promising, laying along the empty backside of the room, between him and the toilet. John casually stood up, not to draw attention, and started towards the toilet.
As he approached the path that creatures slid on, John was gradually more surprised. According to the written articles about hallucinations, what he witnessed should change, deform, up to the level of twisting the room itself. In his case everything remained the same, getting even clearer. John stopped right in front of the path and glanced around. No one was paying any attention. Then he examined for a few moments the passing by creatures. They looked like various beings, mostly different in type; some were passing faster, some slower, but there was no sign he was noticed. John stepped at the path. Nothing really changed; it seemed beings just slid by without even a slightest notion from John’s other senses.
With growing interest, John decided to take action. He selected one of the slower beings and stood right at its path, with a right hand raised in front of his chest. The being shifted direction and John followed, staying on the path. After another similar manoeuvre, the being slowed down and finally stopped right in front of John. It was a humanoid, with bluish skin, hairless, slightly shorter from John, but much thinner. It was dressed in tight red outfit and of undetermined sex, if any. John also noticed that the being had no ears or nose, just a thin strip in the place of mouth and two large, almost round, eyes that it focused on him. For a moment they stared at each other. John lowered the hand and produced one of his best smiles. The being only slightly tilted the head. “What the fuck… and now?” John muttered. "If you would kindly step aside, I'll be on my way." words formed in his mind. John quickly glanced left and right. No one was around. “This is new. I am hallucinating sounds as well.” whispered John. “Actually not. You are receiving zoongkl; as you would say in your language ‘a locally adjusted targeted telepathic projection’.” The being was staring without a blink.
John was having fun. He could never imagine hallucinations could be so amusing, thus continued the conversation, “I apologise for delaying you, it was simply my need to talk to someone. Hope this would not cause you any trouble?” Something like a sound of numerous tiny ceramic bells echoed in John’s head, followed with words, “Amazing… yes, I understand what you want to express. No, we don’t have such phenomenon in our society – anger, reprimand… very entertaining.” John raised his eyebrows, “You are one lucky bustard, wherever that you come from. I wish I could have a quiet, relaxing life. Always to be able to cover my own needs and have no argument with others.” The answer to unspoken question popped in his head, “We belong to the civilisation at level seven and use one of the parallel higher dimensions from your world as a shortcut from one planetary system to the other.” John asked with sadness in his voice, “And on which level are we; first, second?” Bells sounded again, “On the level -107. Only civilised worlds are above zero.”
This time John was taken aback, “Wait a minute. That is too much even from a hallucination. We are very civilised!” The being half closed its eyes, “I apologise. There was no intention to insult you; levels are a very complex issue to explain in detail. Nevertheless, as customary in such cases, I will give you a small gift to earn your forgiveness and then should move on.” John considered it for a second and shrugged, “OK. Personally I see no need, you are obviously a very fine creature and meant no harm, but won’t say no for a small token of our meeting.” And added to himself, ‘I wonder how will my brain get away with this when the hallucination is over!’ The being opened its eyes, “From what is available as the standard travelling equipment in the handy gravitational loop, and can be operated by your species, are levitation bracelet, individual force field and object duplicators in three sizes. Please make the selection, which will symbolically reconcile our relationship.” John never considered himself as adventurer, nor did he use force, so the reply came instantly, “Object duplicator sounds interesting. However, I would appreciate if it could be portable.”
The being stretched its arm aside, the hand and the forearm disappeared for a moment, and then brought back something resembling a short light-brown plank with two similar plate-sized round surfaces on the upper side; one pink and other light green. John shook his head, “You might be civilised, but design is not your strong point.” The being placed the board horizontally at chest level, “Please place you hand in between two circles.” John did as told. The being added, “Adjustment completed. Position the desired object on the surface you call pink, place your hand palm down between circles and the duplication will be performed. For understandable reasons it can operate only on things, not on living beings.” The being blinked twice, the strip in the place of mouth slightly stretched, “Good bye… and good luck!” Then it moved aside and slid picking up speed. While John managed to turn, it had already disappeared. Other beings were still passing indifferent of John, though they started looking fuzzy. ‘I am sobering up.’ thought John, ‘Enough talk, time to go home.’ With the board under his arm, he passed by the bar, left some money, saluted the barman who barely looked at him and took a taxi to go home. He tried during the drive to ignore shapes that occasionally appeared on the edge of his field of vision. On entering home he placed the board on the table in the dining room and went to bed. The event in whole was entertaining, but he got tired at the end.