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It is pain. Part one.
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2024-10-29 19:42:56The empty streets with their echoing footsteps and empty houses quickly became an immense part of the cloudy sky where a single bird was flying. It was a pigeon. And that pigeon was slowly lowering its body down toward a lonely building with large windows. Along with the graceful wings the foliage carried news from the wind.
It was a lonely landscape with a few empty benches and many lampposts. Everywhere there was the smell of rain. And somewhere in the distance could be heard the sound of people's voices. But those voices were more like the voices of ghosts that did not want to leave this city. The whole world was spinning, but here everything was waiting for something, maybe someone. It was only when a pigeon landed on one of the branches that the windows in the brick house opened and the sounds of wailing followed. The tall skyscrapers absorbed the crying, memorizing every sound, every note forever. And the hysteria that was in everyone's hearts filled the narrow st
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The Unveiled Soul It is pain. Part two.
The next morning was no different from any other. The same pigeons that circled over the empty streets, the same people who went somewhere against the cold wind. The city was as quiet as ever. Even the wind was quiet. And even Adelard's broken heart. All night long, he sat on the floor, reflecting on nature, on life. But all these reflections brought only more sadness to his soul. Never before had he felt suffering so strongly.It was as if suffering was sticking tiny needles into his heart, preventing him from taking a breathe. And in that moment, when the pain became too unbearable, he simply shut off his emotions and became like all the trees in the world."Adelard, can you hear me?" Arthur, wearily, looked at the papers that held millions of numbers. "Adelard?""Yes. I can hear you.""Suzanne, she left some money for you. Look at this. Also, she left you some of her stores.""Should I sign the papers?"
The Unveiled Soul It is pain. Part three.
The loud barking of dogs, along with the voice of the crow, woke up the sick, suffering people. Amidst the smell of medicine and death, tired eyes simultaneously opened and also closed as the sunlight gently rested on their faces. And when the clatter of heels sounded clear, everyone tried to lie down as comfortably as possible. After all, it was time for the injection. A nurse in an overly white outfit silently approached the first patient, who was a young woman with a deep wound on her right arm. She silently accepted the pain of the needle and as the nurse headed toward the other patient, this woman turned away and made an unpleasant sound for all to hear. When it was Adelard's turn, the nurse fixed her hair and regretted so much that she had not brought a mirror and lipstick with her. Still, she was young and beautiful. After all, all beauty is always in vigor itself rather than in appearance.Ignoring the voices of the patients, the nurse approached Adelard, who ha
The Unveiled Soul My home. Part one.
The return was long and tedious. Through fog and dusty roads, across an ocean that retained all its eternal sorrow, Adelard finally arrived home. He opened his eyes and a seagull flew past him. The bird flew by as if it wanted to hit him with its wing. But he was able to bend his head and the bird just threw its strange look and flew away.The dampness was everywhere. It was impossible to hide from it. Adelard saw for the first time what this little town was really like. He saw that there was probably nothing beautiful here. Old houses with broken windows, empty bottles and scattered love letters adorned the streets with a light fog walking through them. The sky was gray. The color of it was just like a knife blade. And if it rained, the drops would just cut against that knife, making thunder replace wailing. Lonely horses were walking in an unclear direction, and somewhere far away was a man with a very tired face. He was wearing a torn hat, which was just his habit. G
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"Monsieur, can you hear me? Monsieur, you must no longer enter the factory. It is no longer your property. Like everything that belonged to you," Monsieur Pierre said as if it were all unimportant. Adelard could not understand anything. But Monsieur Pierre understood his question through his eyes and continued. "Monsieur Adelard, you yourself wanted it to be so. You yourself gave all your property, your inheritance, to your wife." But Adelard remained silent. "Adelard, listen. Everything is legitimate. No one has cheated you. You gave everything to your wife yourself. But why do you act as if you didn't know about it?""I don't understand," Adelard whispered quietly. Too quietly for anyone to hear him."Your wife owns your factory, as well as all that was left to you from your parents," Monsieur Pierre went on as if it was all funny to him."What?""Don't you understand me?""Why doesn't Celeste tell me this herself? W
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In the nooks of the old houses, where street cats along with rats lived, Adelard found shelter from the rain and wind. Among the broken bottles, dirty clothes, and waste, he stood awkwardly holding the baby, who had finally stopped crying and was now just sleeping. The gray sky stretched along the broken roofs of several houses that towered over him. In one of the houses, an elderly woman was peering out of one window, trying to attract his attention. In the window opposite was a man who was smoking and looking at Adelard with disgust. These two people were looking at him, studying him and most importantly managing to judge him. Adelard, for the first time in his life, saw what judgment looks like in a person's eyes. Before, he had never paid attention to a person's bad sides. But now, in every wrinkle, in every movement of his eyebrows, he saw the disgust that was directed at him.When the thunder was strong to the little ears, the child began to cry again. Adelard had
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"No," the woman replied and returned to her seat. The baby was crying louder and louder with each passing second. Adelard's hands were shaking, he wanted to cry himself. But he was the only adult here and so, he was determined to make sure that this crying was replaced by calmness. As soon as he put the glass to his mouth, the milk immediately spilled onto the blanket. This only made the baby cry even worse."Monsieur, take it. You'll be more comfortable with this," a woman who was holding her baby said. Holding out the milk bottle to him, she added, "If your baby's mother sees you feeding him, she will be very angry.""Thank you," Adelard said, trying to remember this kind woman's face. But his thoughts were too muddled to work together with his memory. This was the first time Adelard had ever held a baby in his arms. But seeing the baby's face change as the sweet taste of fresh milk entered his stomach was actually a beautiful sight. And knowing that the
The Unveiled Soul Alone. Part three.
With the arrival of early morning, Adelard left the house, hoping to see his wife. But the idea seemed too bad for him. He wasn't ready to see her. Acting like an adult, Adelard kept up his graceful gait and headed in the direction of the "ideal" society. He walked down the same streets with bright flowers, the same paths, past the same people who always greeted him with shouts and words of love. But now, he was only getting judgmental looks. How quickly people could forget everything. How quickly their love turned to hatred. Without lowering his head, Adelard walked slowly. On purpose, to understand what was happening, he stopped his gaze on each person. He looked into each person's face. Looking at each face, which radiated only mistrust, hatred, and even disgust, Adelard asked himself what had made them all change their minds about him. No answers came to him until young Theo stopped before him. Terrified, heartbroken, Theo ran up to him and, disregarding the others, hugged him t
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"Men like you don't belong here! You walk near our children! Near our husbands! You want us to stop believing. You want us to become like you and go along with your desire. But no, you can't do that," the man said, and blows followed those words. The men, and the women and children, began to attack him. Many hands tried to hurt him while he was on the hard ground, with the taste of blood in his mouth. His gaze was still fixed on Jean, who stood far away, not daring to take even a step forward to help. He looked at him even when they turned him on his back and began to beat him with sticks. His best friend threw one last look in his direction and, without doing anything, simply turned back and walked away. His tall figure moved slowly along the tall trees until he disappeared into the bright sunlight. Sticks were followed by stones. People started throwing stones. There was nothing Adelard could do but just close his eyes and think about what his best friend was really like. But some
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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
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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
The Unveiled Soul Finally we are home. Part three.
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
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"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
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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
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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
The Unveiled Soul Armand. Part two.
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
The Unveiled Soul Armand. Part one.
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
