Prokhor Ozornin - On the Wings of Hope - Prose

Ten seconds, twenty. The guy was trying to stick his knife into him - their hands were struggling for life …

A blow. Attacking one finally managed to reach him with the edge of knife. He twisted from pain, but hasn’t ceased fighting …

Thirty seconds …

Drops of blood, exuding from his wound and generously watering the ground … Capture. Procollar of a hand holding a weapon - he wanted to beat a knife off from enemy’s hands. Blade was slowly turning towards lying below him attacker - now it will become possible to take the hand away and beat out a knife from opponent’s hands … without weapon the attacker ceases to be a fighter. Let them escape - he is not even going to pursue them …

But the guy suddenly screamed something and started turning sideways, trying to dump him from himself.

A rattle. Heart-rending agonal rattle. Turned edge was stuck in the robber’s breast, when he started turning over.

“Bas … tard”, - almost silent words, which he has heard. And then silence has reigned.

Only a guy, recently holding a pistol, was still slowly creeping, and the one with knifes was lying still … But he didn’t want to kill any of the two - had totally no desire … Only to disarm …

He picked up a pistol and run up to his wife. Has kneeled.

Breathing … that means that she’s alive. Then he looked on a wound - a wound was on the right side under the rib - a blood was slowly pouring from it. Good. Not deadly. She has to survive, she must!

Then he picked her up, propped up on himself and slowly started going forward, bearing her. He has to pass quite a little. To leave this lane and enter a populous street, and there he’ll be aided - he must be! - by others. No, he matters not! It’s she who must survive. And he will manage it somehow - he has overcome even greater wounds!

And the pistol must be destroyed as well …

Picture changed. Now he was standing in the court, listening to own sentence - a sentence for murder.

He is a murderer. Even protecting himself and his beloved - he’s still a murderer. Even carrying a necessary self-defense - he has killed a man. But according to a court’s decision no self-defense has ever taken place.

A second survived attacker has informed law enforcement department of the accident. Naturally - the way he wanted it to look like - there were no witnesses for a fight. And even words of his wife and her wound weren’t proof enough - she was unconscious according to her own words and didn’t see a final part of fight. And considering the wound … the wound can made by her husband as well, instead of the attacker … especially if his fingerprints left on the knife has to be taken into account.

So did the court conclude - and has made its decision. Imprisonment for a long term of twenty years … For such a long period, for which he has to remain here. In this stronghold of grief … and sometimes - only sometimes - repentances …

Images have gone out. He was standing close to his wife once again, and she was still crying. And thus he calmed her. Assured, that everything will finally turn out fine, that this nightmare will end soon and he once again will meet her - his beloved - this time being free.

Then he smiled - didn’t want her to see him despaired. And had no wish to despair himself. They continued talking for quite a while - until security guard hasn’t demanded a termination of their conversation. Then they were separated until a next meeting. She will once again come to him as soon as she’s allowed to - as soon as a minimal time span between visiting will pass … approximately in two months.

She will come once again - his second half, his beloved, his personal sun.

And he will come as well into her world, after these longest twenty years. He will come when a wall, separating them, will turn to ashes. And nothing forevermore will divide them! This is worthy of his return! A world behind this fence is worthy of entering into it once again. And he will return back to start a new life - in bright and solar - new world.

After almost quarter of a century he will embrace this solar world and smile. And rejoice his living.

16.02.2012

- There is a legend, - the Wiseman smiled, - of the Divine Island, inhabited by singing Angels, where, seemingly, even the time ceases its movement. We transfer it to our warriors from one generation to another, and each and every year several brave ones stand out from the crowd, willing to find this true miracle.

- Have anyone of them achieved it yet? - the young man questioned.

- We don’t know it for certain. Probably, many of them were lost in a journey to the Bridge. Possibly, even more decided not to ascend it and turned back, but, being tormented by feelings of shame and fear, decided to never return back home, having found themselves a haven in foreign lands. Perhaps, someone at last has managed to pass on the Bridge and reach the Island, but whether will they decide to come back to our usual world, if they have once tasted that mysterious heavenly beauty? And, besides all other things, the very living on that Island should have transformed them so much that lots of people would certainly not be able to recognize them, renewed, even if they returned to our habitual home.

- And what is that wondrous Bridge that you have mentioned? - curiosity and genuine interest were shining in the eyes of the young warrior.

- Would you like to hear the legend of the Divine Island? - smiled the Wiseman.

- Yes! - the young man ardently answered him.

- Well, then listen and remember it well!

* * *

- This Island is not marked on any of earth maps, yet it still exists. Many say that it’s too majestic for the foot of mere mortal to step on its surface … others do argue that only those who have passed mysterious trials are given this unique chance and joy. Probably, someone would compare this island to an earthly paradise and would surely be mistaken, for his ideas of paradise are too superficial and ambiguous.

- And where is this Island located, in what overseas lands?

- It’s far and still close to you at the same time. And the first thing required for each of the warriors marching in a journey, is the Intuition.

- And what in fact is that Intuition, and how can one find it inside himself?

- The voice of Intuition can only be heard when mind of yours becomes silent and heart of yours starts speaking. The first steps are always made with Intuition, therefore those who have chosen a wrong direction initially, may never find the Island, even if they will have been traveling through many foreign lands throughout their entire life.

- But are those still able to once hear the voice of their Intuition, and curtail to the right path?

- Certainly, if they will manage to suppress inner whispers of own Arrogance.

- And what happens with those who once choses the right way?

- In the beginning of their journey to the Island they have to pass through the Wood of Life Difficulties.

- And what is that - the Wood of Life Difficulties?

- It’s a mystical forest full of growing trees, which people have agreed to call among themselves no other way than Problems.

- And why did you call this wood mystical?

- The fact is that every traveler sees this wood its own way. Someone cannot distinguish among never-ending stream of trees the wood itself, while another practically doesn’t see any trees at all. This wood is live, it possesses its own reason and behavior, and is capable of changing and transformation of itself according to each wanderer in compliance with his World-Outlook. That’s why for some it seems as dark and gloomy, with a set of various clinging foot snags, fenny bogs, burdock and nettle thickets, while for the rest it becomes a bright and sunny wood with joyfully-rustling trees, ever-singing birds and juicy berries, growing here and there under their feet.