Autumn

How to treat the soul City. Five in the morning. It’s the worst thing in the world. Olesya went out on the balcony, the phone rang, again her friend, to whom she owes money. I’m so sick of everything! — Can you hear me?” — a voice came on the phone after picking it up. “Yes, I can hear you yelling like that?” - Nothing, do you remember that today your fate with the institute is being decided? — I’m not going in there. — Why is that?” — I want to create, not follow a well-trodden path that other people have come up with. I want to help people through my creativity, through what I create, by guiding them. The best people are not the psychologists who charge us money, but those people who listen with their soul, sitting on the balcony with you at five in the morning, and help you figure out everything without judgment. They just sit around and help. Treat books with the smell of old age, the love of another person — the simplest, but such amazing things. And also the sun, snowfalls and warm summer rains, warmth by the fireplace and a dream job… You can heal your soul by enjoying small things and enjoying honey-sweet wine and cheese, laughing on the balcony at four in the morning and having good sex, and not pills. Walking on a long road, relaxing in the woods with animals and birds that have been seen much more than you, and sensible, quickly disappearing thoughts that come on a Friday night help the spirit. Evenings and walks alone around the city at three in the morning, when you go to bed, letting go of thoughts and worries, changes, if we ourselves come to them — all that a person does not do against his will, makes our life full. Self-love and good hugs that heal wounds in the soul — these are the things that give joy. Cats that come early in the morning and look at you through a dream, forests that whisper their name to you, and not a city with glass buildings, help to achieve harmony. It’s the money… They kill the soul. Art, clothes and hairstyle that we like, tea, wind, shade on a hot summer day — everything around us, if we paid more attention to it, heals the soul. People who are no longer with us, but they are always there… — So you’re not going back to the institute?” — Of course not. Gone with the South The carriage carried her away from her old life along a vast avenue heading south. How did she decide to take such a bold step? Leave, run away. After all, she had everything you could ever want: a home where you loved her, a warm fireplace every night with a cup of equally warm tea, a maid who blew dust off her. And now it’s all behind us. The daughter of a wealthy aristocratic family, bored with her old life, decided to run away with him, with the man she was in love with. Her dress trailed behind the carriage, and the horses galloped through the fog, taking her further and further away from home. She turned and took one last look at the house. There was a longing in her heart, but then he sat down next to her and covered her with his jacket. Now she had nothing to worry about or regret. They will go south, to a land where there is no rain and fog, where the sun shines and love, where they can forever forget who they are, where they will forever come out of the shadows and no longer hide and can safely walk in the company of the same fugitives from life as they are. “Tell me,” he said, breaking their silence, " my lady, are you sorry that you left everything behind and went south with a servant, because your reputation might suffer?” “Oh, no! The lady exclaimed hotly. — I don’t care, and you can live without a reputation. — Where will we go first? Do you have any special requests? — Where would you like to go?” I want our carriage to run all the way to Paris, and the railways to carry us as far as they can. I don’t want to remember my reputation or my family, I just want to love and enjoy life in peace, just like you, without curtsies, without money, without looking back on anything and not regret anything. Life is so short, so why waste it on a reputation? She looked at him from behind half-lowered lashes and saw that the man’s cheeks were flushed, but he quickly regained his composure and whipped one of the horses hard to speed up the general run. The horses ran off into the distance, into the distance toward the sun. She imagined how she and he would be able to dance from the very first rays of the sun, and all Paris would be at their disposal, and all life would be theirs alone. They will go so far away from the rain and the cold that their whole old life will seem only a dream. They will dance so much until their feet are worn out, and laugh until their voices are broken, and they will be happy. Their eyes met. There was a lot of emotion in both of them. He looked at her and didn’t know what to do: kiss her or not, or ask her to marry him. She looked at him and thought that she had done the right thing by breaking off her engagement and running off with the man who had given her her freedom. “Oh, you are my savior —” she said, and kissed him. He just gave her a big hug. The carriage took them to the train station. When they boarded the next train to Paris, they sat in a half-empty carriage and snuggled up to each other. Familiar silhouettes drifted past, and it seemed to her heart that she was happy, despite the war, despite everything. He realized that she was the only soul he wanted to protect, that she was the only one who could understand him. They rode into the setting sun, enjoying each other’s love.