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My home. Part two.
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2024-10-29 19:42:56"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
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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
