Berlin blood

France is a wonderful country and a trendsetter, a country of creative people, now regaining its rights that were taken away by Germany. Paul had just arrived, but the feeling of fear did not leave him. Yes, exactly fear. He hoped that his enemies would show courage and bravery and show their faces; in a fair fight they would decide who would go to the next world. However, Paul also doubted these rats: they hardly even understand what a fair fight is, and that you can’t shoot a person from the gateway. This is unfair. However, now Paul doubted whether people had completely forgotten what the word “honor” meant and that it had not lost its meaning in the world. He moves along small streets. Most likely, everyone has already arrived. Paul did not know exactly how many there were, besides Moritz, but he felt that not everything would be so simple, there could not be only one Moritz. It’s a complex web. Everyone depends on each other. What people call fate is nothing more than the vibration of this thread and the reflection of the waves. Moritz. What will he decide to do this time? How to kill him? How to demonstrate to him your perverted and enslaved mind in anger and envy? What else can he give to a person who is desperate and has lost all hope for happiness and momentary joy in life? At what point does human selfishness begin to manifest itself? Only in extreme situations? Not at all. Rather, always when the occasion is convenient. People for the most part are weak creatures. And it is not their bodies that are weak, but their souls. And selfishness is a manifestation of precisely this weakness. When we betray, steal, gossip and humiliate, be that as it may, the other is weakness. What will happen next to the world, and will it get on the right track in life or will it slide into the abyss? Perhaps he will take the path of goodness and truth if he looks his vices in the eyes and accepts himself for who he is, if he does not hide it, but honestly accepts all his imperfections and everything that is possible. If you don’t tear your hair out and jump above your head, reach out for those who are too tough, if everyone in this world finds their calling and follows it, and doesn’t give up on it, no matter how small it may be, if everyone hear the voice of your soul, and not shut its mouth in the hope that it will shut up. What is our world now? “A madhouse on wheels whose patients refuse to take medicine because they think they are healthy,” said a doctor at the hospital where Paul’s mother was treated at the beginning of the war. No, she wasn’t crazy. She needed sleeping pills, thanks to which she did not completely go crazy from the pain. Paul looked at how the soldiers walked without noticing him, how passers-by dragged their lives, whose life for themselves seemed like a burden, how everything that used to make people happy now only brings melancholy and sadness. “Humanity has a bad memory and that is why someday it will lose everything,” Paul said to himself, heading to the shore of the lake, so that, perhaps, in the last minutes of his life, he could remember all the wonderful things that happened to him. He grew up like any good boy, with rules and academics. Parents only paid for tuition and looked at grades — and only if they were at home. Paul could hear dead silence for months at home. He had no friends as such. He communicated a lot with his teachers, nannies, talked a lot with people who remained partial to him, replacing his family and parents. Another significant character in his life was his grandmother. Yes, they didn’t see each other often, but it was unforgettable. She always took him on steamships and ships, they went a lot just on river walks. It was she who instilled in Paul a love of the sea. When he grew up, it was time to decide on a profession, and in tribute to his grandmother, as well as to his desire, he entered the naval academy and made friends for the first time. They all promised together that they would always be there for each other and help if anything happened in life. They thought and reflected on life together and dreamed of living side by side upon their return. Paul saw in them support and support, and also felt a spiritual closeness that he had never experienced before. But now, from the height of his years, Paul understands that all this was a deception, which he called friendship: first Rudolf, and then Moritz. Having become a captain, he had lost any meaning of friendship in life, and comradeship meant little to him now either. He became cold and stony in his soul. He lost people close to him, and now one of them has turned against him. He got up and headed to the hotel where he was staying, and, feeling eyes on him, noted that soon he would receive a sign where and when the meeting would take place, and not only he and Moritz: they were probably coming for that one too. Although Paris is on the verge of change, their battle will still take place in a place separated from the rest of the world, a place that has always been, is and will stand out, far from others, a place invented by man with the help of the knowledge of the church. Yes, exactly there, and not only he thinks so: everyone else is also inclined to believe that, since they have been brought together like this, they will leave half for the resolution of higher powers. Clouds are gathering over Paris, but they are not rain clouds. These are storm clouds.