BEAUTY

BEAUTY

Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky wrote: “Beauty will save
the world.”
He must have meant inner beauty. But how to find her, how
recognize her? The world that surrounds us is populated, willy-nilly
in us, time is like a wave that carries away images from dreams, images,
which can be a lifesaver to withstand the full weight of sharp edges
Holy. You don’t live in a vacuum, the people you meet day after day
day, they wear masks and hardly anyone looks you in the eye and
smiles at you. Perhaps it is really necessary and necessary to
you find at the border points, maybe all the magic is in it,
to throw off the weight of the past and break the shackles of memories.
But words are sometimes easy, but reality is something pure
another.
The woman sitting across from me was calm, a cascade of lights
her hair fell over her eyes.
“I cheated on my husband for twelve years, I can’t do it anymore, it’s not going to work,
that what you don’t know doesn’t hurt.”
“Only to me you seem calm and beautiful,” I suggested to her
a compliment.
“Ah, it is only external, a shell, though I may say I am
she learned something from her mistakes.”
The May sun caressed our faces. I felt a closeness, a
but I didn’t do anything. Yes, the thought was to hug her,
kissed. At last she came to me, but yet I knew not
if this is not the beginning of some new torturous story.
“You know, it’s weird in its own way that we found each other, but on the other hand, like
that it had to happen.”
For a moment I didn’t know how to continue the conversation. We are quiet
sat there, caught in time.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes myself, just the one in retrospect
you can’t fix it, here, now and the future count,” I interrupted
silence.
“Whoever doesn’t do them, we’re all bloody under the skin,” she replied.
“I would not like to say something in vain, after my last bad experience
is fear, it completely exhausted me, destroyed me emotionally. Not because of that
because she found another man, because of manipulation, because of
the lies she fed me for many months,” I continued.
“This relationship, man – woman, is difficult. It’s a fine line
friendship.”
When she said that, I took her palm in mine. She didn’t withdraw it.
“Yes, this life is strange, I think, like the waves,” I say and
I try to catch her gaze.
“It’s true, once up and once down, you just have to cut it off
extremes. I don’t know why I’m acting so smart today
I had periods when I was completely on the ground,” he answers and gets up
moves even closer to me.
“Who doesn’t have them,” I say and hug her.
We slowly get up and go to bed. Bloody sun
slowly sinks behind the horizon. He sits on the edge of the bed and slowly undresses
a shirt. In a T-shirt, he looks at me in amazement. Almost
as a kid.
On her wrists and hands are countless cuts, scars from
cutting. I lean over and kiss her on the torn map
skin.

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