Grief

Arthur stared at the carpet in silence. He was afraid to move, thinking that with every movement he touched grief. And only his gaze followed the long dress of sadness that walked across the room. "Don't think like that. She certainly wouldn't want you to think that way. She always wanted you to live the life you wanted. And she always knew you weren't living the way your soul wanted you to live. She always knew everything about everybody."

"I want to stay here. I'll be in her room," Adelard said.

"Then I'll stay too."

"No. Please go. I want to be alone. It's only tonight. It's just this night."

"Look, at times like this, no one should be alone. If you're alone, sadness will take over your soul. And I don't want that. So, I'm staying," Arthur said and sat down more comfortably in his chair.

"Tell me, what is the meaning of life?" Adelard asked suddenly, looking at the patterns on the red carpet.

"The meaning of life is to live this life as rightly as possible."

"What does it mean to live this life right?"

"You know the answer to that question yourself," Arthur said and closed his eyes. It was already dark and the room was getting cold. The raindrops pounded against the window, along with patterns of lightning. But no one was paying attention to nature's way of talking. Adelard covered his face with both hands and began to say, "I've spent my whole life thinking I was living right. But what does it mean right when you meet death? Does it mean that your whole life has been filled with happiness or is it about how many good things you've done."

"Happiness, that's elusive concept. And good, bad, it's a human invention, after all."

"You're right. There is none of that. Absolutely nothing. Person is just a clock. An overly accurate clock that just stops at the end and remains a memory on someone's nightstand."

Arthur only shook his head, remembering all his relatives, who were now a memory, a clock that would never start again.

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?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Adelard, she really loved you and she left you a lot of things. Will you please come down to earth already?"

"I'm sorry."

"There's a lawyer coming today. And you'll need to talk to him about the inheritance."

"Okay."

"You need to eat. Come on."

And even breakfast, which seemed appetizing went unnoticed. Adelard, had given part of himself to Suzanne and now, he didn't feel that he was alive. The pale face quickly became a reflection of the pale sky, which was also sad. Everything was spinning around and nothing could be caught. The arrows of time were changing and Adelard felt like he was in a time machine. The past ran past him and the future could be seen. And the hand of the clock shouted, "Now!" At that very moment, Adelard opened his eyes wider and noticed in front of him an overly old man who could barely hold a single sheet of paper in his hands.

"Monsieur Adelard, Mistress Suzanne has left you a fortune. You need to sign this paper to complete everything," the lawyer said, looking in amazement at Adelard, who, even though he was pale and weak, still continued to be impossibly handsome.

"Adelard?" Arthur was beside him and his eyes were too frightened, too curious to endure another second of this silence.

But to his delight, Adelard said, "There are many people in this world who need this money more than I do. I don't intend to keep it all for myself. I want that money to go to help orphanages and people in need. And as for the stores, I don't think I can come here often. Arthur, you were there for her, not me. So it should all be yours. I don't deserve anything from Susanne."

"But Adelard?! It is her wish."

"Just do whatever it takes to make the children smile and the people in need taste hot bread." Having said this, Adelard fell back into silence. Behind his words, though, Arthur's emotional expressions continued and the surprised words of a lawyer who had never seen such generosity in his life. But when all the documents were signed and understood, Arthur smiled happily.

"Adelard, you're just impossible," he said and hugged him.

"I'm glad you're happy."

"And thank you. Thank you so much."

"Yes. But that's not all. You'll need to come to my office to discuss some nuances," the lawyer said and with that, Adelard just left the house.

Death always opens our eyes to the truth. Death always makes us think. And along with the eternal problem of time, or rather the past, death makes us ask questions about the right way to live so that we don't regret anything. But sometimes, death takes away all the questions and only pure memories remain and you realize that you are left in them. Some people never come back from those memories. They live on with the one who died. Life flies by at the speed of light, but no one cares. And sometimes, death changes a person for the better. It is worth looking death in the eyes, and immediately a person begins to think about his life and appreciate every second. After all, if you hold your breath for just a few seconds, you immediately feel as if an eternity has passed, and when you take a breath, life seems the most precious gift. Valuable, but still incomprehensible. After all, no one knows what the purpose of this gift is. To put it on the table and admire, or to carry it with you and show it to others at any time? Death, like life, teaches us a lot. Especially those who are left in this world with millions of memories. I am alive, and what does that mean? Does it mean that I have many chances ahead of me and I shouldn't miss them? Does it mean I need to love more? These were all questions Adelard asked himself as he walked down the alley. He didn't care about the people passing by who were looking at him. He just walked, thinking not of Suzanne, but of himself. The tall houses made him look up, hoping to see something he had never seen. Now, he wasn't looking down. He was looking up, at the blue sky with the glow of sunlight. With each step he approached the busy part of the city and when he stopped, he saw too many people around him. They were well dressed and beautiful. There were happy smiles on their faces. It was as if they were all one big family. Now he understood why Susanne had always urged him to leave with her. Now he understood her words. After all, it was beautiful here and life felt like never before. A moment of happiness made him go further, exploring every corner of the city. So when he stopped at the glass building where people were drinking coffee, he looked around and his eyes fell on a man in a white shirt and jeans. For some reason, he smiled at him and then walked into the café.

"Adelard Mars?" someone suddenly asked, almost crashing into his back. He turned and saw this man in front of him who had stolen his smile a second ago. "Yes. It's me," Adelard replied without any emotion.

"Have you been crying?" the man asked, staring defiantly into his eyes.

"Yes. I cried," Adelard said, wiping a tear from his face.

"And why is that?"

"My best friend died."

"I'm sorry," the man said. "My name is Andrew."

"You know me."

"Yes. You are famous even here. And besides, I use your soap," Andrew said, trying to make him smile.

"I have to go," Adelard said, feeling the pain in his head again.

"Wait! Let me buy you a coffee." Before Adelard could say anything, Andrew was already leading him toward the table. Andrew was a man probably the same age as Adelard. And noticing something strange in his eyes, Adelard said, "I don't want to drink anything."

"You are sad, so let me help you," Andrew said and pulled his chair closer to him. Adelard's heart began to race and Celeste appeared before his eyes. "I think it's time for me to go," he said and this time he was able to escape.