Julius Chance
Gregory
“On TV You was pictured with a cigar in your forehead,” Serge timidly uttered.
The man took two blue cigarettes from his jacket pocket and handed one over to Serge. The second one he lit for himself. The delicious scent filled the room. Serge dragged on and instantly felt more euphoria than that of marijuana.
“You confused me with our supreme Maya god, the so-called god K. He is somewhat like Zeus for the ancient Greeks. It is not a cigar that sticks out of his forehead, but a red-hot knife made of obsidian, volcanic glass. I am called the god L, according to your earthly terminology. I’m his junior business partner.”
“The gods also have business partners, then?” Serge wondered at his stoned consciousness.
“In this hypostasis I am called the Egregor of Smoking, but you can simply call me Gregory.”
Only now Serge did fully realize that everything that was happening around him was real and rushed on to pursue his goal:
“I do really want to quit smoking, I've tried everything: nicotine pills, plasters, hypnosis, prayers and …”
“I know, I know,” Gregory interrupted him.
“Tell me, why all these turned out to be ineffective? How do you hold us bound to Yourself so tight?”
“Craving for nicotine is only part of the smoker’s problem. The psychological component is much more important. We have specially conceived that the day of the smoker is divided by smoke breaks into about twenty periods. Approximately every 40 minutes, the average smoker has a kind of legal rest, not only mental and physical, but, moreover, psychological as well. It serves as a refuge from the monotony of work and life. When the abandoner is confronted with the ‘continuity’ of existence, then plasters, pills and hypnosis cannot help him. Especially the urge to insert ‘truce’ segments into the battle of the day in order to take a break, increases under stress.”
“That is, if you drink tea many times a day to distract yourself, the chances of quitting smoking do increase?”
“Right. But this will not help you either – the willpower does not suffice, sorry for being straightforward,” Gregory blew a stream of smoke into Serge’s face.
“Why didn't Jesus help me?” Serge asked, swallowing the offense.
“Trust in God, but don give a slack to yourself,” the egregor grinned.
“Did He really exist? Is He really a God? ” Serge blurted out and straight away got frightened by the blasphemy of his question.
“You see, from our egregorian point of view, it doesn’t really matter whether Jesus was a god then or not. If the mass of the people now believes in him, then he is now. And the more believers and the stronger their faith, the more God he is.”
“Have You ever met Christ yourself, there, in heaven?” Serge could not calm down.
“I saw him, but we have not met. We exploit your vices while he relieves you of them. Therefore, he considers us to be evil spirits. Nevertheless, we still honor him as one of the greatest among egregors,” the high guest said.
