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08-09-2014, 05:07 AM
Charles is slowly walking in a park and enjoying the sunny day. The flowers and trees, by which he is passing, emit lovely scent. He breathes it in with lots of pleasure. He has a very developed sense of smell and these things awaken in him various feelings and thoughts. As if he senses them for the first time, they bring into him the feeling of great happiness and satisfaction. Hot and dry weather makes plants emit their scents much stronger than when it is cold and humid. He, himself, has not used to grow any plants in his garden. This has been his gardener's duty, and Charles don't want to interfere with other people's jobs. On the other hand, the selection of gardener was very careful. He chose him according to a certain friend's recommendation. He was a person who understood very well how plants were grown and taken care of. Charles' garden has been with lots of colors and rich scents.
Very often, he has been spending evenings sitting in his garden, relaxing from day worries and work. He used to give himself completely to these smells and colors, with tender breeze carrying them here and there, while garden sinks into the darkness of night. He doesn't go into house with the first darkness, if the weather is pleasant enough. He just keeps turning his head from one side to another trying to guess, with the smell as a leader, which flower is it that attracts his nose.
He used to ask this kind of friends to suggest which perfume to buy, to tell him a new idea for new novel he was writing, for he was a writer. It was really miraculous! These beautiful 'advisers' never led him astray. Each novel he started being adviced in this way, was a great bestseller on the novels market.
But, this day something else comes to his mind. Since he has started this way of communication with plants his private life almost disappeared. As if he has started to imitate them, these flowers and trees. He has withdrawn from any social life, neglected his friends, left his many-years girl friened and she, seeing that he has become completely uninterested in their relationship, married another guy. With a great surprise and a bit of sadness, Charles has concluded that he even didn't care about her marrying someone else. On the contrary, he has been glad about it.
But, he asks himself, is it normal and concludes that it is not. Finally, in his own novels he wrote about such people as strange and unpleasant.
Charles suddenly stops walking, sits on a bench, takes out his little pocket mirror and looks seriously into his face reflecting in it. On his nice face he notices something that he does not like.
This must stop, he thinks...
At this moment a beautiful girl appears in front of him and, laughing, bends to him touching his shoulder.
- Charlie, you have a little grain in your eye. Let me take it out for you.
It is his neighbour with whom he sometimes shared an afternoon coffee and chat. She has been living the same lonely life as himself.
- Hey, hello Emma. Oh, no, it is not a wandering grain from the air in my eye. I have just been thinking am I normal.
- Ha, ha.... laughs Emma, why do you think about it?
- Well, you see... I've started to live like a plant. I only work for living, I don't live. There is nothing else that fills my life. It is not normal.
Emma looks at him deeply and they continue to walk together in the park where she, also, frequently likes to move and exercise her body after the night's immobility. She sighs.
- Tell me more about it!
She exclaims.
- This is somthing I am oftenly asking myself, too, but it's never occured to me to look myself in the mirror on that occasion. Not a bad idea, though.
They both laugh and go slowly walking and talking, while the city park gets more and more crowded with people going on their own business.
What happens next, you can conclude yourselves. A few months later, they got married, and, I am sure, after a few more months they must be expecting a baby of their own to be born.
Very often, he has been spending evenings sitting in his garden, relaxing from day worries and work. He used to give himself completely to these smells and colors, with tender breeze carrying them here and there, while garden sinks into the darkness of night. He doesn't go into house with the first darkness, if the weather is pleasant enough. He just keeps turning his head from one side to another trying to guess, with the smell as a leader, which flower is it that attracts his nose.
He used to ask this kind of friends to suggest which perfume to buy, to tell him a new idea for new novel he was writing, for he was a writer. It was really miraculous! These beautiful 'advisers' never led him astray. Each novel he started being adviced in this way, was a great bestseller on the novels market.
But, this day something else comes to his mind. Since he has started this way of communication with plants his private life almost disappeared. As if he has started to imitate them, these flowers and trees. He has withdrawn from any social life, neglected his friends, left his many-years girl friened and she, seeing that he has become completely uninterested in their relationship, married another guy. With a great surprise and a bit of sadness, Charles has concluded that he even didn't care about her marrying someone else. On the contrary, he has been glad about it.
But, he asks himself, is it normal and concludes that it is not. Finally, in his own novels he wrote about such people as strange and unpleasant.
Charles suddenly stops walking, sits on a bench, takes out his little pocket mirror and looks seriously into his face reflecting in it. On his nice face he notices something that he does not like.
This must stop, he thinks...
At this moment a beautiful girl appears in front of him and, laughing, bends to him touching his shoulder.
- Charlie, you have a little grain in your eye. Let me take it out for you.
It is his neighbour with whom he sometimes shared an afternoon coffee and chat. She has been living the same lonely life as himself.
- Hey, hello Emma. Oh, no, it is not a wandering grain from the air in my eye. I have just been thinking am I normal.
- Ha, ha.... laughs Emma, why do you think about it?
- Well, you see... I've started to live like a plant. I only work for living, I don't live. There is nothing else that fills my life. It is not normal.
Emma looks at him deeply and they continue to walk together in the park where she, also, frequently likes to move and exercise her body after the night's immobility. She sighs.
- Tell me more about it!
She exclaims.
- This is somthing I am oftenly asking myself, too, but it's never occured to me to look myself in the mirror on that occasion. Not a bad idea, though.
They both laugh and go slowly walking and talking, while the city park gets more and more crowded with people going on their own business.
What happens next, you can conclude yourselves. A few months later, they got married, and, I am sure, after a few more months they must be expecting a baby of their own to be born.