"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."&
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
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."
A person who has lost his, her purpose in life is dead. He or she is an empty shell that wanders the earth and feeds only on gossip and the evil impulses of his or her empty mind. A person without purpose or dreams is a person who lives by the misfortune of others. Why are people evil? Why do they love to mock those who never stop going after their dreams? The answer is obvious. Because only empty people do that. A person without a purpose has never known what it is to fall and what it is to take off. Such a person has experienced nothing in this life. Consequently, such a person is very dangerous to those around him. For this is the surest source of all trouble. Remember, when you followed your dream, all the people around you discussed you, maybe even laughed, and maybe even mocked you at all. Because of people like that, you saw a lot of injustice. After all, empty people can not only laugh, they can do everything to destroy a normal person with life in his or her heart and make
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
"Haven't you ever thought of that? Your factory was taken from you. And you never wanted it back?""I've thought about it.""Now it's time to take action. Adelard, I have an idea. What if I got a job in your factory? That way, I could learn something. I mean, how they managed to take everything from you.""You'll get a job? But what about your books?""I only write in the mornings. So I have plenty of time anyway.""But my factory is far away. Do you want to live that far from home?""At least for a few days. Adelard, I'll only be there for a few days. Maybe I'll understand something. I think the way they took everything from you is really strange. I feel like you can get it all back.""And what will you do?""I'm going to work there and listen to the conversations. I know I might not find out anything. But it's worth a try.""Jean has seen you. He'll recognize you."&
"What's the matter with him? He's been crying all day and even now," Percival muttered, trying to continue sleeping. Through the sounds of rain and thunder, he tried desperately to help Adelard, who had been sitting with Armand from morning until night. But sleep proved stronger even when the baby's cries could have woken even the neighbors."I don't know. He seems to be sick again. What could it be? The milk is fresh. What's the matter with you?""Adelard, let me help you," Percival whispered."Go to sleep. You have to get up early tomorrow."Sinking into sleep, Percival had already begun to see different dreams, but Armand cried out even louder, and this time, he could not continue his sleep. Rising from the bed, he put on his robe and walked lazily over to Adelard. "What's wrong with him?""If I knew.""Maybe he's hungry.""He has a fever.""Maybe he has a stomachache?"
Along with the wheels of the train, which made the sound of footsteps, the hands of the clock also paced forward. The little wall clock beat its rhythm so loudly, wishing to speed up the pace of the event. But the Sun decided everything. And the Sun decided that evening would come through Adelard's many attempts to get the house in order. Wanting to do something for Percival, Adelard decided to clean the house. But it turned out to be much more complicated than that. Never before had he held a bucket and a mop in his hands. And never before had he felt happy at the sight of the clean windows he had just cleaned. But the mess that was everywhere frightened him. But the fear did everything to make him act. And so, along with Orion and Armand, who was wrapped in a blanket and tied to him, Adelard set to work. The most various things that could only exist in this world created a whole stream, if not a waterfall. There were clocks, paintings, photographs, statues, books, records, candela
Now that the house was much cozier and too clean, Adelard felt utter happiness. Looking at his reflection, in the small bathroom, which had a few buckets and nothing else, he adjusted his hair and looked at his dark green jacket. Remembering that this was the suit he always wore to greet important guests in his office, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His past no longer mattered. He was no longer sad. He didn't care anymore. Suddenly, the whole past became a simple movie. Leaving the bathroom, he took Armand in his arms and checked the plate of food that was for Orion. Closing the door behind him, he looked around and a smile appeared on his beautiful face. "What a beautiful evening. Look, it's Moon. Isn't it beautiful?" he asked Armand and the child made a sound in response and then laughed. Slowly heading toward Bernadette's house, he inhaled the cool air. And with each exhale, he opened his eyes wider to see all the beauty of the place. "If I were an artist, I would alw
The gratitude for everyone who contributed to his life was too strong for Adelard to ever say, "I'll never trust people again." No, he remained the same. And even then, when a new life met him and even when he opened the book about his life.It was a heavy book, like his life, with his face on the cover. It was a book that kept everything about his family and about him. It was also a history of humanity. More precisely, human nature. Namely, the nature of person, who always wants to destroy the kindness, to insult and make suffer the one who is willing to do anything for the good of others. This book is not only about a person who was able to remain human after all that people have done, but it is about the fact that people are still not ready for kindness.They are not ready for generosity, because once you give something to them, they immediately become greedy and don't appreciate it at all, until they lose it all. They are not ready for understanding. Af
Time passed quickly as Adelard watched his son run through the places where he himself had once run and played as well. He saw himself in him and the happiness was too strong to remember all the pain and anger. No, his heart had always remained pure, without resentment or hatred. And it was his strength that created wings on his back that could never break. A heart without resentment is wings.When evening finally came, Adelard entered the house and stopped in front of a picture of his parents. "Mom, Dad, thank you," he whispered and heard Percival's voice, "How do I look?" He was wearing a new white suit that perfectly described his new start in life. It was perfect to be true.But people brought the truth with them and when everyone he knew was gathered in the house, Adelard walked up to Percival and said to him alone, "White suits you very well."Then, returning his gaze and attention to his guests, who stood with sad faces, Adelard said lou
After suffering, one ceases to feel guilty about what happened and is happening. After tears, scars remain on the face that no longer want to hurt. Sometimes it seems that a person has to go through everything and experience everything in order to eventually understand their own truth. It is only when a person has experienced everything that life begins. But sometimes, there are those in life who choose the path of the beholder. And often, trials and sufferings fall on the shoulders of the most sincere and kind people. While the audience continues to watch and applaud when they deem it right.This time, the audience, that is, the society decided that Adelard deserved respect and everyone, putting on their masks again, began to smile at him. Everything was back to normal. The same streets with flowers, the same faces and smiles. And the words, "Monsieur Adelard, how are you? I'm so happy you're all right."They said it again and again and as Adelard walked p
"Why did you kill Celeste?""I didn't kill her.""But you had the gun in your hands.""Yes. But I didn't kill her.""Monsieur Jean, do you hear me? Do you understand what I'm saying?""I'm sorry, but I have to go. I don't have time to be here with you.""You can't avoid what has happened and continues to happen. If you're playing, that's enough. Don't take up my time."Jean, feeling the pain in his hands, looked at his palms, which were covered in blood. He remembered nothing, he knew nothing. And with each second, it was hard for him to know who he was. With every second, he was losing himself. And as he lost himself, he became smaller. His shoulders slumped and he simply began to sink into the iron chair, which seemed like ice."Jean, you killed Celeste, and also wounded your friend. Also, you forged his signature on all the documents. You stole everything from him. I knew there
The past always walks behind a person. The past is always ready to replace the present and the future. The past is too strong and demands everything from a person. And sometimes, people just give up on the future for the sake of always remembering. Memory plays very important role in a person's destiny. Every object, every street of the city and music, everything around is a reflection of memory. Every detail of this world holds the memory of every human being. Just look at the tree, which seems to be very ordinary, but it may be that someone is associated with this tree almost his entire life. Or look at a house, a book, a letter, a painting, and you realize that someone has left his or her entire life in these objects. In the outline of flowers lovers leave their best memories, on the surface of the moon people leave their best dreams and hopes, which after a few years become a memory. Memory is everywhere. The past wants all the attention it can get. That's what happened to Adela
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
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
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
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