В колонках играет - Ace of Base - Show me love
Настроение сейчас - 8/10
…A match was falling down, flying, rolling over, like it was tripping over the invisible beams of wind in the air. It fell, and rolled down to the cobweb and froze. Squinting, he took his eyes off the sun. This city was just like the others. Even the matches fall in different ways, but all the cities behave in the same way.
He was walking across the road to his house… It was not his house actually; his house was far from there. People never call things by their names.
He was always moving from one city to another, always looking for something.
He moved the irritating picture, which covered the canvas, but wasn’t there yet, and walked forward. While he was crossing the road, he was sure that someone with a car would try to run him over, and would be trying to look like he didn’t want to. It was always like that… When drivers see a bird on a road, they slow down, but if it’s human they run. But the road was quiet. In each of us live a hunter and a victim. And we are all hunters, until we cross the road on foot. It’s useful to feel yourself a victim sometimes; it shades off the colors of life.
He entered the house, opened the window wide, lighted a cigarette, and started peering trees. Now he couldn’t see anything… he should look at night, he didn’t even have to look, there was an invisible moving from there, like from the river.
“Soon I’ll leave this place as well” he thought “I will find a new sky, new forest, new me. I am different in all the places… Watching yourself is the only thing that is left when you’re tired of watching the others. You can ignore them, but you can not do it with yourself. It was like a labour conscription. Wheatear you like it not, please, nosce te ipsum.”
Evening fell on his hind-head, swayed on his temples and absorbed in his fingertips. The sky was overendowed by the moon, which was looking at his window brassily, like a spoiled, discourteous girl, not letting him think about anything else. Tenuous evening mist surrounded the walls of his house again. His mobile moved; he took his phone lazily and read the message.
“I kept on asking myself a question “where do angels live, on the earth or in heaven?” But one thing I know for sure: one of them is reading this message and smiling now”.
He smiled.
“Naive lovesome girl” he thought “How can I explain you than I’m nothing like angel. How can you mistake like this? Angels don’t want to make people happy, but they are able to do it. About me everything is on the contrary: I want to make people happy, I’m trying very hard, but every time I get close to people, I make them suffer. I used to try to hide from people, not get to know new people, but it doesn’t help. If you live in society, you won’t hide anywhere. It’s near you, around you, inside you. To each according to his deserts? Why did I do to have this curse on me? Maybe all people have their own curses, with which they live and die. Not because did something wrong, but just because, just for justice.”
Looking at the top of the poplar in the window, which was breathing still night wind, he wanted to become wind or, as a minimum, become a poplar. He was breathing this wind as well, but he knew poplar was breathing it in a different way. He thought all the life inferred in this breathing, in this inornate and, in the same time, deepest move. Cigarettes… Inhaling the smoke, dying every minute, he felt life. Smoke is the remain of our lives, just smoke and ashes. The most stabile and dependable condition of life was death. Through founderous, nervose smite at absolute power that life had, it only alleged constancy of it’s ending.
He was dreaming about rain. And it was time for it. It was autumn, and it just had to rain. He wanted rain for a week or two… To stay at home, read books, smoke, and see rain through the opened window. To feel it, to sink it in. Sic transit gloria mundi...
***
Last drops of night rain were drippling down the cracked window. Loneliness is not a bad thing if you know what to do. He was listening… In the beginning, like grateful hearer of rain symphony, he was dripping with it in thin lines down the window glass, he was falling with it on the moist asphalt, he was crashing against the wall with it. But then the rain finished, and he was lest with only unflagging darkness outside the window. Listening to that darkness on knew that there is nothing endless in this moist after a rain world. And it was somehow appeasing. It took him long time to learn to appreciate composure and freedom. And that time, as usually, sitting by the opened window he was smoking deliberately, sinking in these two sources of human-beings happiness.
The first time he heard that in half and hour after rain finished. A rustle, an easy, almost unnoticeable rustle burst in his ear by an invisible whirlwind, took away the calmness, tore up from beatitude of freedom, by force opened eyes, raised, and tossed back in an arm-chair. Not having other choice, he began to listen, and a rustle was all approached, he had understood everything, he had understood yet when the rain only began, but did not want to realize.
His brain, caring of the owner, as good dog, drove away this mean, cruel thought, and it was obediently hidden, but it was now late. She was alongside, she about here, approximately on a stair ground. He heard, as her heels clattering, and imagined
as they beat out invisible sparks from the always worn, reliable granite.
His Fingertips got cold, he had remembered that locked door, as however and
always, and made an effort a little calm down, breathe exactly, and to watch after that the temperature of brain did not rise higher than a zero mark. It was possible to make correct decisions only like that. She didn’t knock. She was never knocked, she always used to come without a knock, not listening neither requests nor entreaties, she acknowledged the defeat only, and the most bold warriors broke a secret under the onslaught of its opened eyes. He was not only bold, but also wise warrior, he knew that he wasn’t able to manage it alone, and that is why he called, mentally yelled for The Other to come about and help, as strong and inexorably cruel as her rival.He sued only for one, that she would be in time. Although, it seemed, she considered that she always was in time. Heels clattered to the door, and the invisible touch of fingers set about a strong door, on a red lock in a dust. She stood, she was waiting, while the dust of her arrival will settle.
In blind despair, he closed eyes so hard, that cheek-bones buzzed from pain. Silence, the mutual understanding of inevitability ending, and results of this battle put them on one level. He was not afraid any more, he was waiting for his ally, which, by the way, never counted herself to be anyone’s ally.
First her step shook all his existence, as the enemies included in bastion unapproachable
till that moment. Grasping a knife from a pocket, he hystericly
restored it to a state of readiness, and already was sent it necessary,
but her... She was always faster than each of us, she always had known our thoughts,
and always was ready to our next step. She always moved fast, and
often we took her for blessing. She managed our acts, she did for
us nonsenses for which it was not ashamed to us after, she made us get down on knees,
she compelled us to cry, she gave lives and killed. All called her different names , but
she always entered without the knock. Here she was called Love...
***
Pulling white sleeve, a doctor looked the watch “east”, and with the irreconcilable calmness established, that Other had come to him approximately seven hours ago, in three hours after rain finished. arrival of the first one he was not able to define, and did not want to, he had been quiet and free. Yet adding something about the stop of heart in such age and with such health, he complained on ecology, he finished the tirade about stopped heart, and an invisible guest silently cried after a door, expectant, when they will remain in private, and she will be able glance in his eyes red from aneurysm. He was a bold and wise warrior, he was able to value rest and will...
