Ignat Himmelreich

The forest was swallowed by twilight, and her panicked run ended in a painful fall. In the ringing silence behind her, she heard heavy breathing and the dry click of a lighter.

“Get up,” said a voice, cold as a blade.

She stood up and turned around. Three steps away, blending into the pine tree trunk, stood Ignat Himmelreich. The tip of his cigarette glowed in the darkness.

"Your comrades... are noisy. Like a flock of sparrows. They've flown away," he said. “What do you need?” Her voice was a broken whisper.

• Watch. They ran, succumbing to fear. It's boring. And you fell. -I tripped. –Exactly. The fall is a pause. A moment of choice. You chose to turn around.

He stepped forward, and the moon illuminated his stern, tired face.

"And what did you see in him?" she asked unexpectedly, her voice growing stronger. – Most people see a monster. You see a man who smokes. Who is tired. –Are you tired of observing? – From predictability. All reactions are like lines from a cheap novel.

He crushed out the cigarette butt.

"This night could have been the end of your romance. But your fall... that's another stanza."

He turned to leave.

“And then?” she blurted out. – Silence then. And your turn. Run away, and you'll become a predictable line. Stay, and you'll begin a new chapter.

Ignat vanished into the darkness. She didn't run. Fear crystallized, and a tiny, dangerous ember of curiosity flickered beside it. The chapter had only just begun.