Renrike ran through the streets and more streets, that city seemed like a total disorganization, a complete maze. Moved by the noise of the crowds, Renrike arrived at the square, it was a huge fair, where every 2 steps he met different book exhibitors. From novels to comics, from scripts to children's books, everything in that square was moved with just one intention, to diversify literary culture, they were people from different regions of the world and each with different products. So suddenly I would say that what we saw in that square overlooking the small river was the complete effect of Globalization. With the slight difference in this dynamism, it was not achieved through the new technologies and means of transport, to which we are so accustomed today.
Renrike then encountered a clash of realities to which she had not been accustomed, the costumes, accessories, ways of speaking to people through the streets of that confusing but beautiful city, were completely different, to which Renrike had become accustomed to witnessing in his daily life of the hectic life of Tokyo.
The denim and cotton clothing processed were replaced by long dresses for the ladies and very good gala suits for men, there by the middle Renrike met with one or another person who had dressed more habitually to his customs, which in his head from the outthen would symbolize that the person lived in a time closer to his or her who died a few years before him.
The usual noise of the touches of mobile phones and keyboards was replaced by the noise of the crowds around them and the pages of the books flying in the wind aided by the hands of their readers.
The annoying noise of those who try to flatter people was replaced by the sweet sounding of declamations.
The next instant, Renrike finds himself clutching several books from a small stall.
The bookseller from that stall approached him.
- Good afternoon young man, I have never seen you here before. Are you new here in town?- asked the salesman, intrigued by the modernist style of Renrike's clothing.
- Yes, I am.- he replied- I just arrived today.
- I suppose it's not very common to see people dressed as differently as you around here.
- Yes, I have noticed that.
Looking at the book Renrike was holding in his hands, the salesman commented.
- I see you have an eye for the works.- he said pointing directly at the book- It's not very usual these days to see a lot of people coming to my stall looking for a good Shakespearean love tragedy.
Renrike looked again at the book in her hands.
- In this literary category there is no other writer that compares to Shakespeare.
- You're absolutely right, young man!- exclaimed the salesman-I'm also a great fan of Shakespeare's tragedies myself.
- There's no way not to like them, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, King Lear, they are all some of the most timeless works in the history of literature and they all sprang from the same place, from the genius work of William Shakespeare.
- No more young man.- said a man who had appeared behind Renrike.
The man had a wide posture, from the clothes we could suppose that he was some British nobleman, from the hair and style of hairstyle he wore it could be more precisely a nobleman who lived around the fifteenth or sixteenth centuries.
His hair and moustache were tangled in grey tones with some brown tips.
- Good morning sir. What can I do for you.- asked the salesman.
- Good day. I'm looking for some poetry books, preferably some sonnets," said the man as he ran his hands through the books on display.
- Very good. Do you have any reference writers?
- No! I'm just looking for the best book of poetry I can find.- he exclaimed.
For some inexplicable reason Renrike couldn't stop staring at the English nobleman.
- Excuse me, sir.
The man looks at Renrike.
- What young man?
- What is your name?
- William. And you, dear young man, what is your name?
- Renrike, Renrike Tetsuya.
The man smoothed his moustache and then smiled at Renrike.
- Look my dear friend, you don't have to look any further, after all I will not be carrying anything today.- William said to the salesman.
- Are you sure? I have some excellent poetry books here.
- I'm absolutely sure.- he said, turning away and walking through the crowd.
Renrike, puzzled, put down the books in his hand and followed the nobleman through the fair.
- Sir! shouted Renrike.
The nobleman stopped and looked back, finding Renrike running towards him.
- You are William Shakespeare, correct?
The man smiled slightly.
- Yes I am, and how did you find out?
- I am a great fan of his work, besides you look extremely similar to the portraits I am used to seeing.- said Renrike.
William smiles.
- So nowadays there are even portraits with my face.
- Of course there are, William Shakespeare is the greatest reference point for all playwrights around the world.
- Wow, really?- asked Shakespeare, his eyes twinkling.
- Yes, indeed. My dream is to one day write a romantic tragedy as good as yours.
William laughs happily.
- Renrike, do you know where you are?
- No.
- This is the island of dreams, where everything you ever dreamed of can come true. For us writers it is quite simple to create a world completely imagined and drawn by our minds, and well that which we could not express before, here is created clear and in colour. All thanks to the power and strength of our imagination.- he said.
- So you mean this is paradise?
- Indirectly, one could say that this is the paradise of culture and dreamers. Not only of writers, but of all artists, from Da Vinci to Picasso, from Elvis to Michael Jackson. All the great artists who once departed from the real world come together here to perfect this world until it is so perfect that it is impossible to perfect it any further.
Renrike looks around, absorbing and capturing all the magic of that place.
- Come with me!" exclaimed William.
Renrike followed Shakespeare to a bridge over the small stream that crossed the fair.
- Do you see this river? And all the atmosphere around us? The palace, the fair, the streets and the houses?
- Yes I do.
- Where do you think this came from?
- I don't know, probably it would be a temporal mixture of two different regions.
- That's right, I see you're quite perceptive, Renrike," he says, placing his left hand on Renrike's head, "when I arrived here there was nothing here.
- What do you mean?
- This world came into being and was all created thanks to the Council.
- Consilium?
- Yes. The Council was initially formed by five great names of world literature. Me, Alexandre Dumas, Luís de Camões, Miguel de Cervantes and Gil Vicente. After its creation, it was joined by several other well-known authors such as Virginia Woolfe, Fernando Pessoa, Agatha Christie, Ernest Hemingway, among many others. Our role was to give wings to this literary world.
- So one could say that this world is an amalgamation of the creativity and imagination of the members of the Council?
- Yes, basically yes that's it. Over the years, months, weeks and days, we usually organise themed parties on our works.
- Wow and when is the next one?
- Let me remember, a few months ago it was Camões day, the next one will be Dumas and then it will be me.
- So what do you do at these parties?
- Basically the feasts work like almost everything else in this world, through imagination. The author to whom the day is dedicated makes the cast of his work come to life.
- Only through imagination?
- Yes. For example if today was my day, I could bring the characters of my tragedies to life.
- So does that mean that the world we are in is the cominar of real people who are the authors and the characters and settings of their story?
- Well, no more.
- But that's just magical.
- It certainly is.
- That being the case we can bring together in this world all the casts of the world's greatest literary works.
- Yes, but all this has some risks for authors, if their mind can't handle all the creativity and imagination that this process requires their soul can turn to ashes.
- And what happens in such cases?
- In such cases the author's name and works are completes extinguished both from this world and the real world.