He lit another cigarette as she came into the room. He never glanced in her direction or moved from his place as the room slowly drowned into the smoke. The matchstick would have burned his finger had it not been for the draft of chilly wind that seemed to creep in from somewhere. It swept into his clothes and chilled his blood at length. Enough to make any man shiver but not enough to distract this one.
She walked around the room, circling him. But at the very same time the man showed his first signs of motion as his head fell into his hands resting on the table and a small gasp of breathe emanated from him. A slight sob could be heard.
The woman looked on as the cigraette lay dancing on the table, swaying here then there in the draft as the man slowly gathered himself up and motioned as if to stand up but collapsed right back into his chair. She could not bear the look of desolation on his face and it was all she could do to even pray that she could cry. The man turned to his side so he was no longer facing her. He tried to pick up the cigarette again but his fingers seemed unable to perform even this act. His face was one of a man crying in despair but no tears streaked his face.
And then all of a sudden a small smile came across his face. Not a creature of joy but the gray wisp of a smile of one who has nothing to loose and only the mystery to stare into.
She moved towards him and said out loud as if making a declaration, “Fate played a cruel hand to you. But dont despair. There is always more to things than we can understand.”
And at the same time he looked up at the cieling and exhaled; then in a quiet absolute whisper he said, “I wish i had told you how i felt. I wish we could turn back time. There is a desire in all our hearts to redo things as and how we could make the most of them. I wish i could live back my life again. Make all my mistakes again learn all those lessons all over. But most of all i wish i could undo the one thing that has led us to where we are.” And with that finality he let the cigarette drop.
The clock ticked 5 minutes to noon.
The door opened and two uniformed guards came to escort him to his destination.
The woman followed him as he walked ahead with his head held high and the same smile on his face. The two men besides him felt a small chill going up their spine and looked back at nothing.
As they reached their common destination they set the man down at his assigned place and then took up theirs.
“For the murder of your wife, in the second, by causing acts leading to her death while in medical care, the state condemns you to death by electrocution. May the Lord have mercy on your soul”
The woman watched as they killed the one man who had set her free from all the suffering this world had bestowed upon her. She watched as her man died for saving her from a torment she had begged him to end.
Mr schmidt used to say to himself that he was very hollow inside. Infact he was.
He could not feel remorse, sadness, pain, exuberence. Nothing.You might say he did not know if he was even human anymore. But certainly not divine or inhuman. No no… certainly not that.
But what is a person when he no longer feels, cares, cries or laughs. All this when he knows he should. He knows he should feel remorse when his lady left him saying she was forever someone elses and then had an affair with a third man.
He knew he should be sad. Maybe… maybe he could also have cried. He had cried in front of her once had he not. And now that she had, to his mind, betrayed him in sorts, he should be ready to break down. Had not he dedicated every moment he was with her and every other to making her life better. Was she not the focus of his existence. Maybe he should even loose all hope and faith. He knows this is what he would have expected of himself earlier.
But the fool just doesnt feel. Anything.
He cares very much about what happened and whats happening, much like an analyst, but he certainly doesn’t feel anything about it.
He doesnt feel guilt like he used to when he didnt complete his own goals for work or just doesn’t care about the results anymore. He feel he no longer needs the support he once banked upon.
He feels very squarely and truly dead indeed.
He doesn’t feel the surge of happiness when the woman he wanted to give his heart to smiles at him… maybe because he doesnt want to risk anything anymore. It is humanely possible to hide the person in you. Maybe forever. maybe just long enough. If your not sad you must be happy. Isnt that how it works. Or is there a middle ground. Or maybe his state doesnt exist in this realm. Its outside the terms of reference. A silent grayness along the pictures of stark black and night.
Mr Schmidt knows the world doesnt know anything about this or that any part of this thats going on in his mind. He’s glad or those who care about him might make a mess or when they dont see him sad maybe theyll assume hes happy. No point in bothering those kind souls.
He doesn’t really know what to do but one things for sure.. he’ll continue to be stone dead forever……