Prokhor Ozornin - On the Wings of Hope - Prose

And still he has to fight – along with other your men, quickly mobilized and driven on the front lines soon after the beginning of war. Hastily trained. Slightly armed. Not murderers – living people.

The burst of machine gun has abated and he has slightly raised his head. As he has suspected – enemy’s infantry was advancing in full order. Damn, it would be so great to have some heavy technics here and now – some tank. Or tanks. But all large forces have already been mobilized in other directions. And they have been abandoned here, against superior forces of the enemy, with almost no means of protection. They have been left to die here on the battlefield. Well, he though – to die means to die. There are no other options possible, apparently. A pity, his death will be in vain.

He has suddenly caught himself on a thought of how he can die to grasp as many as possible enemies together with him, for enemies aren’t talked with, they have to be – killed. But whether they would began to kill him if they have happened to meet in different circumstances ? Possibly, they would even become friends. Yes, friends with that very young soldier that has so ineptly got out forward …

A recharge of submachine gun … a sound of taken and inserted charger. A shot. Enemy’s soldier silently falls down with a punched head… One more enemy has fallen.

Ruthlessly killed.

Madness … This is total madness. Humans, transformed into animals and brought for murders.

Non-humans ? Are there are humans in the war at all, humans – soldiers ? Soldiers, who have still remained humans ? He met and saw those returned from wars time and again – almost nobody from them could get accustomed to peaceful life. Only singles did. For this is war. For this is madness.

Enemies were approaching – without concealing, methodically and openly. They saw and felt their victory – feasted on the victory, feasted each moment with relish. Then they will feast over the conquered territory, too… They didn’t know yet what a monstrous error they have already committed. Mistake, for which they should pay off once…

The columns of the enemy are absolutely nearby – there is no more reason to cover in the entrenchments. The order of their commander, shouted in the air – “Forward !”. And here he is – their commander, leaving an entrenchment – and moving towards the enemy. And falling. Falling without a single shout. But the impulse is picked up – and soldiers rise. Rise on their last fight. The shortest fight possible.

Sounds of discharged weapons. People, dying from both sides. Dying for nothing.

He has risen the time he has heard the order. Has run forward – first, second, third – enemies fell before him.

But a shot finally comes – and pain burns his shoulder. He shots once more – and yet another soldier of the enemy falls down. One more shot – and blow in a breast throws him aside.

Ground. Native ground. You are so close to me now. So close …

A bent face of the enemy. A gunpoint, looking at his forehead. A shot. Last one in his life.

The war …

The madness of war …

06.10.2010

You say, that God does not exist. And I tell you, that He exists no more exclusively for you.

You grieve, that He has forsaken your world long ago. And I reply, that it was you, who barricaded from Him in the smallest world of your own, which has nothing in common with the greater one.

You complain that life is cruel and unfair. And I recommend you to look at yourselves in a mirror in the upcoming morning.

You grieve of the dead ones as those lost to this world forever. And I am starting to assert that they were lost exclusively for the vanity of yours.

You curse your work, thinking of it as a routine which takes away the time of your life aimlessly. And I ask you, what will your life look like without your work on yourselves?

You despise your enemies. And I know, how they all become the stones of non-hindrance on the road of life, once you have finally grown the wings for flight.

You all thirst for love, but, finding none, are ready to jump from the rocks of broken hopes into abysses of hatred. And I desire to know the true value of such feelings.

You state that life makes no sense and holds no purpose. And I will whisper to you, that you did not even try to search.

You declare the impossibility of possible, and deny incredibility of the obvious. And I see, how previously impossible becomes obvious, and incredible becomes possible.

You guess that life is inconceivable without movement. And I ask you not to confuse impulses of soul to petty vanity.

You worry that you do not understand others. And I am interested in questioning you – “Do you even know yourselves?”

You pursue life’s success in hopes to get it in time, and are ready to walk over others heads. And I tell you that you are always late, for you have chosen wrong road.

You feel proud that belief is not necessary to the learnt. And I ask you whether you could learn, not believing in the possibility of the learnt ?

You speak of generosity and share pieces of stale bread, continuing to consume red caviar over both your cheeks. You speak of goodwill, and draw a knife behind each other’s backs. You speak of wisdom and share thousand and one way to deceive those close to you. And I dare to believe that you will open your eyes one day and stop confusing darkness to the light.

You question, how I can state what I do not know. And I advise you to pour out ashes from bags of your knowledge.

You tell me that I repeat myself and cross spots, passed previously, again. And I will simply ask you to look up.

You will tell that it is banal. And I will continue hoping.

You will tell that you have heard and passed all this before. And with a grief in my eyes I will watch you passing by once again …

27.09.2010

A blinding light of neon advertising struck in the eyes.

“Only here! Free sex! Men-women, men-men, women-women! All possible combinations! Only 20 credits for unforgettable night! Make yourself pleased!”

And just nearby on another building - “Virtual sex with world stars! Feel yourself famous!”

A slow turning. The first, second, third building - everything sparkled with red and crimson fires and suggested to feel “true taste of life”, as it has been written on a signboard of the next stocky construction, inviting “grandiose inhabitants of our capital” to take unique part here and now in summoning of “powerful spirits from underworld” under the direction of “the great prophet”, whose name “is so powerful that cannot even be said aloud”.

People were passing on nearby - they all were dressed in some sort of dark clothes and their faces were turned towards the ground. It almost seemed as if they didn’t notice him.

What a strange world is that? He didn’t remember himself living in it earlier.

He slowly moved forward, studying city vicinities. He had no more doubts that he somehow appeared inside a city.

Streets were lightened up by long lines of dim lanterns. “And how can they distinguish anything in such a darkness? - an overdue amazement came to his mind.

But the ones living here apparently didn’t desire to notice anything, except for but few things. Here some bent townsman ran into a nearest building. A newcomer turned his head to behold a next signboard. Large shining dark-crimson letters were imprinted on its surface:

“Fights without rules. Life is just an instant in the eternity. Death is a release”. And a bit more after - “The property of a lifeguard service of grandiose inhabitants of grandiose capital”.