sâmbătă, 21 iulie 2012

Not right


   "They always looked better before than after", the lawyer thought looking at her, dressing. "But still so beautiful..."
   - Don't stare at me like that, you know I don't like it. Plus, you didn't pay for this too, joked she.
   - I'll tip you extra next time.
   - Can you help me with my dress?
   - Gladly! "I think this is my favorite moment", he spoke silently. "When I can look at your hair falling on your shoulders without worrying you'll leave me in that instant. And only after I move your hair so that it won't get stuck in the zipper".
   - Please hurry, said she and he closed the zipper in one slow move. And tell me what do you think of when you stare at me like that.
   - I'd rather not...
   - Please! If you tell me I'll let you stare from now on.
   - I think of different things. But in French, you make me think in French.
   - Why French, asked she while grabbing her purse.
   - I don't know, maybe you look like someone that I saw in France and that I liked. The thing is that it always seems to me that you look and move like a beautiful French woman, like a French woman would naturally do.
   - How do you call me the French in your thoughts?
   - La pute qui rêve avec moi.
   - What does it mean?
   - It means the beauty that dreams with me.
   - I dream?
   - No, actually you dream along with me. I am the first dreamer.
   - And what do we dream about?
   - We dream that I've won the lottery or found a case full of money or that I got a really big contract. And that we'll use the money to travel for the rest of our life. Until we get sick of travelling and we decide to settle down and have children. But first we dream of travelling to Paris. 
   - That would be nice. She was standing.
   - Can't you stay longer? I would like for you just to stay a bit more with me.
   - I can't, I have other clients to see. Next time you can book me longer, continued she. Au revoir! Did I said it right?
   - Yes, you did. Au revoir, said he. And she went out, leaving him to contemplate the empty room and the echo of the clinch from the front door.

miercuri, 11 iulie 2012

Not right


- Let's sit by the table under that oak. I saw you were not loved by your father, said the lawyer.
- Did he tell you this?
- No. But he donated all his fortune to charity and left you only an envelope. Looking at how your outfit looks, I'd say you could've used at least a percent of his shares.
- I'm doing just fine, thank you, answered he straight.
- He told me this about you, when he made his instructions, that you think you're fine. Anyhow, this is not my concern. All I have to do is give you this envelope. And he placed a white envelope on the table.
- Thank you! As the lawyer was still standing there, he dared to say that he can read it by himself, no need for the lawyers help.
- I'm sure you can, but your father instructed me to stay with you until you read it all and then add one more thing.
- And what is that thing?
- I'll tell you when you're done reading.
- As you wish, Mr.Lawyer. He opened the letter with his bare hands, crumpling it terribly. By the markings he could tell that the letter had been written on a typewriter.
- He could've at least written it with its own hands, sulked he.
- He did. But at that time your father was already too sick to write it by hand. But at least he typed it, no one else read it, if this is your worry. Please read it.
   My son,
   As you read these lines, you've probably already seen me as you sometimes wished for me to be. I do not wish to discuss this here nor never. It is a too tiring thing to do and I don't have the necessary strength anymore. Rather I would like to give you some advice as a man in his eighth and last decade of life. You may choose to listen to them or just to ignore them. Whatever you'll do I will be happy that I did what I think was my duty, that is to share some knowledge to you as my son. 
   First of all, I had cared about your mother. I care and miss her even now, though I do not know anything about her for some 30 years. I have tried to explain to myself, to try to understand my actions with regard to her, the things I said and done, of which you maybe know from her,  but I have failed. I have only excuses that make me even more mad. I cannot tell you how not to make my mistakes. Nor can I tell you something about that thing that people use to call "love". From my point of view there is no such thing, but just chemicals and the resulting poor judgment. But I have found that there exists something very important in life and here I want to get. There is in every human being's heart a need to be accompanied through life, to share the weight on his shoulder. This is what troubled me without realizing it for most of my life and unfortunately I got to understand it only now. We need someones, whether we're criminals or idiots, we need someone. And not just someone every month. We need them for all the run, to know us and use this knowledge to out own advantage. I emphasize this as I am to tell you that I've followed your life through eyes that I have hired. I needed to know if you are well, blame me if you want. Those eyes told me you are a wanderer, that you waste your life travelling without a purpose. I tried to guess why you do this. Many answers came to my head, but I couldn't choose one. It doesn't matter anyway, because most certainly my advice would be for all you do to stop. Whatever you're trying to do or prove, it has to stop because you're just wasting your life. You are in your fourth decade and you're still alone. You might think you're not, but you'll realize latter that you are. All those friends you made on the road, all those nights in hostels, surely make you feel different, but it isn't so. I'm sure you feel sometimes like I often felt during the night or morning when I was sad without knowing why. Loneliness is a strange thing, it tricks you. You may surround you with all the persons in the telephone book, but if that right person is not among them, it is all in vain. I have tasted this as you know. I found that person once and I chased it away. Don't make my mistake. Settle down a while, meet some people from the place where you'll be and try to see a person, focus on her. If you think you're unhappy, try to see whether this does not come from yourself. Isolate more with that person from the outside world for a while, try to release yourself from the misconceptions that this world plants into us. For what I know, we pay too much attention to the collective brain, not to our own. I hope you see the points I'm making, without laughing of me. Even if you're laughing, at least think of giving this life I'm wishing for you a try. You seem to be having a lot of time, use it to try this. If you'll regret, well, you can curse me one more times, I don't mind. I guess this is all I have to say to you. It's almost a shame, I'm dying and I can leave so less wisdom... My lawyer will add something to this letter, that I did not consider proper writing, considering it childish, quite worthy of kindergarten children. But it seems the only right thing that I could do for you at the moment. Take care, son!
   The lawyer was looking into his eyes, but could see nothing. Only he heard him saying that he would prefer to leave now.
- So please tell me what he wanted to tell me more.
- He wanted you to remember Anne.
Ah, yes! Anne, he thought and blood rushed to his cervix. Memories started sliding in front of his eyes and sadness froze his face.
- I remember Anne.
- I knew you would, spoke the lawyer as he pushed on the table a little piece of folded paper. Your father leaves you as inheritance her address. She doesn't have anyone.
   "And there it goes, that ruthless old man did a good deed in the end," thought the lawyer as that not so young man left from that table without saying anything, but with that piece of paper in his pocket. The lawyer cleaned his pants from dust and rushed to his own business.

vineri, 6 iulie 2012

Not right


As he standed there, looking at the dead body, all he could do was to ask himself, silently, who was that motionless being. "Correct your thoughts, it is not being anymore". Correcting he did and his attention moved to other motionless things. The pale white of the dead contrasted nicely with the black of the coffin. The white silk or what was it made a nice transition between the two. The ring was no longer on his hand and that hand seemed thinner than he remembered it to be. But the belly was still standing high. "The peasants would judge this and say that he had been rich, blessed with a good life", he thought, awarding himself a smile. Not like the dead, who on his face even dead kept that characteristic grimace. Probably because of it he had now more wrinkles. Many more. "I'm not happy with that", his face was saying at that time, though time for him has stopped.
- Well of course you're not happy with this, he said to himself and sketched a smile. Then, though it was silence, he remembered there were other people there. But no one seemed to have noticed his remark. It was like they were dead too. Except for one, who was checking his shoes. So he went outside, without looking once more at the dead. But before going out the door, he stopped by the man with the shoes, bowed to his ear and whispered "Your shoes are fine, the finest thing in here". And then, yes, he stepped out the door feeling quite joyous.
The sun was shinning beautifully on the sky. No cloud up there, only birds cutting the air down here. He was feeling so full of energy that he could not bear to ask himself if he has ever been so alive. "I had to see a dead man to realize how alive I am. Poor me..." With this thought in mind he went down the five steps of the church, sensing well in his ears the noise his shoes made on that sandstone as the lawyer was coming towards him to shake hands.
- You don't look too shook down.
- Is it that obvious? I'm starting to be ashamed of it.
- Let's go for a walk. There's something I have to show you. It won't take long.