Words

He looked at his reflection in the broken piece of mirror that hung over the sink. Perhaps the beautiful face could still be brighter than the sun and the moon, but the truth was slowly distorting those lines, turning him into a new man. Embraced by the memories, Adelard fell further back. The sensation of a sharp knife in his back, just below his right shoulder blade, was intense, all too real, something that broke the whole notion of imagination. "Why?" he whispered. "Why did you do that?"

"Adelard, let's go." Nicholas's voice brought him back. Imagining before him the wide red-carpeted stairs, the large table with the white tablecloth, the smile of Andre, Adelard walked toward his voice. What could be worse than remembering the good times when terror was the only thing? Stopping in front of Nicholas, who was holding a baby in his arms, Adelard asked, "What?"

"If you don't want to be with him, I know a place where he might be better off," Nicholas said, looking at the baby, who wanted to cry, but restrained himself.

"What?"

"Your position is not for taking care of him. I think it would be better if you left him."

"I will never do that. You know that very well."

"But how will you take care of him? What's going to happen tomorrow anyway? Look at us! Adelard, come back to reality. It's time for you to grow up. Stop pretending like this is all a game!" Nicholas screamed so loudly that his friend could say, "Don't scream. Why are you scaring my wife?"

"Your wife died a long time ago," Nicholas shouted back at him nervously.

To which the dying man said, "How can she be dead, if she is with me now."

Taking the child in his arms, Adelard went to the window to distract him in some way. After all, the moonlight could always soothe such a soul. "He is my son. And I will never leave him. You know that very well, Nicholas. And what does it mean to become an adult? Does it mean being able to leave your own child behind and forget he exists? Is that what adults are like? They only know how to leave and forget. I will never leave him. For his sake, I will be strong. For his sake, I will be different," Adelard said, making the child look at him in wonder.

"Do what you want," Nicholas whispered and collapsed onto the couch without strength. The night turned into a torrent of dreams that soon carried their tired minds away from here.

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 tightly.

"Monsieur, I was so worried about you," Theo said, squeezing him even harder.

"Look at them! What a shame!" someone shouted and threw a big rock in their direction.

"Come," Theo said quickly and before Adelard could understand anything, he was already standing between two houses, one of which belonged to Theo.

"I don't understand," Adelard said.

"Monsieur, come in," Theo said, opening the door of the house.

"Theo, what happened at the factory? Tell me."

In the semi-darkness of the cozy and warm house, Adelard suddenly felt the urge to sleep. His eyelids became heavy and his gaze directed beyond this reality. Noticing his tiredness, Theo motioned for him to sit down and then began to place food on the table. Hunger, fatigue, fear. This is how Adelard described his new life. But just a few days before, his life had consisted of these words: happiness, confidence, joy. But hunger was stronger than fatigue. He ate whatever was on the table and without noticing what it was, Adelard simply followed his feelings. Paying no attention to Theo, he did not look up until the plates were empty.

"When Madame Celeste announced that she is the new owner of the factory, she told me to leave. She let everyone stay, but she decided to threw me out. She didn't say anything to me. I just realized that she and Monsieur Jean own everything."

"So they've been planning this for too long. But the problem is, I don't remember the way I signed the papers. When did I hand everything over to her?"

Theo wondered. There was something furtive in his thinking. Something that made Adelard ask, "Are you hiding something?"

It was clear that Theo was struggling with himself. But sincerity and devotion made him say, "I think I know how Celeste got all your signatures." Holding out the envelope to him, Theo silently stood up and left for the kitchen. For what was in the envelope required that Adelard be alone. Carelessly unwrapping the envelope and seeing a few pictures, at first, he didn't understand what it was. But when he got a clear look at the image, he fell even lower, to where the flames of the fire had taken hold of his sinful soul.