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Echo from the past
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2024-10-29 19:42:56The carriage, with its two black horses, stopped in front of them and in that second it rained heavily. The thunder was louder than ever before. The lightning woke everyone with its brightness, and as the windows in the houses opened with force, a child's cries could be heard. The coachman, trying to calm his horses, looked up at the sky with anger in his eyes, as if offended by nature. But the rain did not stop at his gaze. It only intensified, frightening the horses even more. Shivering with cold, Adelard sat down and put his arms around his shoulders. His whole body trembled and even his teeth banged rhythmically against each other. Noticing this, Percival said, "Your wife hasn't even returned your clothes. I wonder why she needs your clothes?"
"She's not my wife," Adelard said, feeling anger every time she was called that.
"That's right. She was never your wife."
"Aren't you cold?"
"No. I rarely feel cold. Mostly, I'm always ho
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"Are you going to stand there all day? Come inside!""So, how do you know each other?" Percival asked again. Adelard continued to stare at them in surprise, thinking that this world really is a very small place. Gaspard looked at Adelard again, and blushing, still said, "You see, I was very ill. I was dying in the street, among the rats. And Monsieur Adelard took me to his house. There, he fed me, brought me back to life. But then, when I started coughing too often and too much, he put me in the hospital. He saved my life. And I will always be grateful for that. Always." His sparkling eyes looked too happy, too much like Percival's eyes. But their conversation was interrupted the moment Orion ran into the house and started jumping on everyone. "Orion! Sit down!"But then, Gaspard just couldn't help himself and asked, "Monsieur Adelard, how do you know my brother?""Brother? He's your brother?!" Adelard exclaimed too loudly."Why ar
The Unveiled Soul Just pain and nothing more. Part two.
"I have to go see him. I can't just sit around," Adelard said, grabbing his jacket and looking at the door again. After everyone left, the house felt a little cold and lonely. There was a breeze walking around the room, touching the fire in the fireplace. Papers with words crawled slowly along the walls and the table, following the wind. And Percival swayed lazily in his chair, looking at Adelard, who was clearly tormented by his conscience. But he couldn't imagine what was going on in his house, right in his bedroom. He couldn't even imagine what was going on in his room, by candlelight and with his portrait on the wall. Namely that his best friend was sleeping peacefully on his bed while his wife sat beside him, hugging his arm and kissing every finger. He was unaware of the conversation that lasted until they were in bed. The two worlds, existing side by side with each other, nevertheless recalled each other. The luxury, along with the cold, small house, seemed to dance, trying t
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In the forgotten corners of this world, just as in the forgotten places of memory, people were trying to live. The whole world is built on survival. And perhaps that is not even life. After all, what can a person who can't look at the sun in the morning and look at the stars at night without a single thought of tomorrow afford? But what can a person who faces survival do? Survival is the basis of everything. From childhood to old age. But what is the purpose of all this, if in the end, a person remains dissatisfied with life anyway? What is all this race for money for? Why do we need love, which in the end will simply disappear? And most importantly, what is the purpose of a memory that only torments a person every day? If you look at the world without a single thought, then it raises the question of why person lives. What is the meaning of life? And why does everyone exist? To answer these questions, there are writers, artists, and scientists in the world. As well as composers, mus
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"What's your name?" Nicholas asked, looking at him."Percival.""How's he doing?" Nicholas asked as if Adelard wasn't here."He's having a hard time. But he's smiling. He tries to smile. Though every smile is like a sharp knife.""Where did you find him?""I found him at the inn. His baby was sick and I found him at the moment when the two voices sounded in intense crying.""Does he live with you now?""Yes.""Where? What kind of house do you have and what kind of work do you do?""In a village. Not far from Paris. I am a writer. I make a living at it. I write articles for the newspaper and sometimes stories for children. It's enough to buy food and clothes.""What kind of house do you have?""Just an ordinary house. There are only two rooms. But the rooms are big and the house is warm.""How old are you?""Thirty."&
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For the first time, Adelard saw him cry. And that face that was beautiful and kind and honest. Looking at the way the tears clung to his long lashes, at the way his little nose twitched slightly just like a rabbit's, Adelard smiled. "Let's go home," he said, putting his hands in his pocket.Percival looked up. Now, he saw a very different man. The real Adelard, who had been hiding behind the pain all this time."Let's go home," he said back. This day was the beginning they had always dreamed of.After two weeks of living in the village, which was becoming more beautiful every day and felt more like home, Adelard completed his treatment. Putting the last leaves of the medicinal herb into the hot water, he took a few sips and the scalding bitterness made him sweat and feel cramped once more. But when the pain passed, he slept soundly. He had never slept like this in his life. And he realized this when he woke up late in the afternoo
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Adelard was surprised. But nevertheless, he replied, "I'm thinking. Just thinking.""I haven't seen you here before. Where are you from?""From a very distant town," Adelard replied with sadness in his voice."Everyone talks about you. And they say you are a very rich man. I see now. You really are rich. Very sad, though. Is it because of love?""At first my sadness was for love. Then, sadness became just sadness. I lost everything.""We all lose everything. Nothing can stay with us forever. Not even our thoughts, not even ourselves," she said and sat down next to him.Looking at her feet, Adelard still couldn't help but ask. "Aren't you cold?""No. I'm used to walking like this. I can't walk long in shoes. I need to feel nature." She touched his hair, thereby greatly surprising him. Curling a wavy lock on her finger, she said, "Your hair is so soft. I've never felt hair like that."
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There were more and more people around. And among them, Adelard saw Esma and others he knew. He raised his hand and shouted, "Esma!" But she didn't even look at him. She was just laughing with someone and that someone was kissing her."Are you in some kind of trouble?" the gendarmes asked, ready to detain Adelard at any second."Yes. We're in trouble. You think this is order? These people are all crazy," Percival said."You're the ones who are crazy! The two of you! What's going on between you two? Adelard, aren't you ashamed? I knew your father and mother! Aren't you ashamed?!"These words were followed by rocks that landed in front of Adelard. Then heavier stones and then tomatoes. The woman and her child started throwing tomatoes at him. And everyone started laughing."Adelard, and where is that kind smile of yours? Where is that angelic Adelard?"Laughter and shouting again surrounded him. But he heard
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As he finished the book that had been the longest in his life, Percival wrote the last sentence and with his hand up, he closed his eyes and felt the moment as great as victory itself. He felt victorious. His heart was beating too fast. Because this feeling was stronger than falling in love. This feeling was stronger and more important than love. When he opened his eyes, he looked out the window, at the people passing by and at the sea that glistened far away and then, he looked at his papers. He had finished another of his books. But this book was different from the others. For each page held only one name - Adelard. Yes, he did write a book about him. It was his biography. From his childhood to his betrayal. All these three years he had worked on only one book. Every day of those three years he studied the town, the people and the history. He listened to people talk, he asked them about Adelard. He went to the library and read a lot. But he only had time at night. And so, for all
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When Armand was already far into the woods, Adelard continued to stare in his wake until he sensed the passage of time. And yet in those three years, Adelard had changed too. He was already thirty-four and soon to be thirty-five. But his appearance hadn't changed in any way. What had changed was himself. Finally, he became a little more attentive to people. He understood the world and saw too many dangers. And all for the sake of keeping Armand safe. And every time the child left him alone, he felt weak from anxiety. He was afraid that Armand would let people hurt his heart too soon. That fear was the only feeling while Percival was not around. But with him, Adelard forgot everything. After all, the key to his world had long been in Percival's hands. While the key to Armand's world was in his hands.The thought of Armand growing up and beginning to understand everything frightened Adelard. But what could he do? Just keep working, make money, and keep making soap. Yes, h
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Looking out the window, Adelard remembered Nicholas. Perhaps by chance, not so far away, somewhere on the steppe, Nicholas looked out the window and smiled. And so, the night with all the stars and the moon came to tell tales and remind everyone of dreams. Only now immersed in memories did Adelard remember everything. And again pain and sadness took their place in a heart that was just healing. But how quickly the heart can remember pain and break again. At times it seems that the heart only lives by pain and sadness, because how quickly it can forget the good things and absorb all the unpleasant feelings. After all, even love, also a kind of pain. And why does a person even remember everything? Isn't it always to feel pain? But what would be if a person remembered nothing and started each day anew? What would the heart do then? But the strangest thing in this world is that when the heart is sad, nature responds with sadness too. The sun turns to rain and it gets dark around you. Th
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Adelard spent the next few hours by just contemplating the nature. He liked to look out the window of the train, just like when he was a child. He was flying through empty steppes, through forest, tunnel, and past mountainous terrain. His gaze clung to the Sun, which slowly let the Moon take its place. His attempts to stop time were naive, but still he continued to stare at the sun until the train finally stopped. Night had not yet fallen. There was a pleasant sunset all around and so, Adelard was happy. For he could clearly see Percival's face. Quickly leaving the train, he ran towards the town. He didn't even pay attention to the fact that the memories, like little birds, were trying to draw his attention to themselves. He didn't care that this was where he was born. He didn't care that every corner reminded him of something. After all, he had long since noticed a tall figure near the tree."Percival!""Adelard come. Hurry!""Where are
