: Three FEELING

- Don't you feel it?

- What am I supposed to feel?

- Like the rain cleansing you, how every problem, every worry, all that daily filth washes away.

- This rain will leave me with more filth than your 'cleansing'. Do you see how I look?

- I haven't seen anything so beautiful in a long time.

* * *

That's how we met. Of course, she told me to forget it and left, and from that moment on, I couldn't take my mind off her. Although I'd always been skeptical of all beliefs and religions, I thought then that God did exist; such beauty couldn't be the work of a single human being.

She was wonderful; every single part of her body, even a particle of her, was like a masterpiece to me; I couldn't find anything in her appearance that could disappoint or displease anyone. She was the kind of woman everyone admires; literally everyone who had the privilege of looking at her would certainly never forget the sight.

That day, the rain started in a flash, surprising everyone. Perhaps some had expected it because it had been terribly muggy all day. In any case, we weren't one of them. I had a terrible day at work, and on the way home, I thought nothing of anything, as I often do, which, as many say, is an extraordinary art. Then began the fifteen minutes I'd been waiting for my entire life. It began with the first drops of torrential rain, a downpour that soaked everything in mere seconds. You probably know those rains when you're walking down the road and see some gray thing rushing towards you, the roaring grows louder, and only after a few moments do you realize you're about to be completely wiped out. To my surprise, I started laughing and humming, "It's still raining!" I must have looked ridiculous, but it didn't bother me.

Then I saw her.

Angry, furious, hating the entire world, yet like a goddess, seemingly otherworldly. Dark, shoulder-length hair, completely soaked, a slim waist, a waspish figure. The wet dress clung to her stomach, hips, legs, and breasts. You could see almost every inch of it. She had fantastic breasts, not large, but not small either, just like I'd imagined. I don't know if it's possible to describe them, but that's exactly what she had, unconcealed except for the thin cotton fabric of her clothes. There was something about her, something a woman must possess to be able to love her, and I must admit, she had plenty of it. It was this something that made me manage to form a coherent sentence. I remembered our meeting, every second of it. It wasn't difficult, it didn't last very long. I remembered her warm voice, enveloping, warming, inviting, her gentle smile right after my flat, table-like compliment, the movement of her hips and breasts as she bent down to adjust her dress. I remembered everything there was to remember, and I enjoyed the moment, the fact that I exchanged even a few words with her.

* * *

"I'm sorry. I really

am." "You're welcome.

" "Of course I am. I know you wanted to be nice, but your 'cleansing' left me speechless.

" "I felt it.

" "Don't get me wrong, it's just that rarely does anyone start a conversation like that, but at least not in a trivial way. " "

I'm honored; coming from you, it sounds like a compliment.

" "As an apology for my lack of tact and rudeness, I'll take you out for pizza. Do you like it? And I'll even pay. So, what do you say?

" "If you invite me, I'll probably say yes."

* * *

- Beautiful, it's rare to find a place that takes your breath away.

- I'm sure many an Indian would like to die here.

- What?

- You know, for them, the place of death holds great significance.

- Lie down next to me instead of lecturing on Indian spirits. Will you read to me?

- She was my Aphrodite and Venus rolled into one. I wanted to kiss her again. And again. Her feet, her hands, her whole body. I couldn't stop, I was so compelled to do so. I felt like I owed it to her.

I can still hear the sounds of pleasure in my head. The kind you hear when...?

- When two people love each other. I want to be with you, I want you inside me. Here and now.

- I've been dreaming about it since the moment I saw you.

- Me too.

- Wait, it's starting to rain.

- So what. Isn't it beautiful?

* * *

- Do you love me?

- I can't see the world without you, you are everything to me, I love you every moment, just like the Norwid poem I read to you, it reflects it so beautifully.

- The one from the birthday card.

- Exactly.

I was overcome with love for this girl, this woman, and even though we were young, she was mature, without any of the childish sentimentality, the advances, the "do you want to go out with me" questions. We both knew this was the kind of person you wait for your whole life. Sometimes the wait is worth it, but there are those who have never met him, and we looked him straight in the eye and drank from him, more and more, and we couldn't get enough.

* * *

The time of our love, pure, unsullied by even a single argument, was magical for me. I always wanted to be with her, I never had enough, I never complained, I was delighted by every smile she sent me. Fuck, that was the most beautiful time of my life. I cried like a Brazilian soap opera fanatic when she answered YES to the most important question asked of her beloved, and then I prayed every night not to lose her, not to lose her, and yet it was destined for me, for her, for us, that one day she was coming home, it was raining, the road was slippery, she skidded—she died.

DEATH .

I thought about it all for a long time, spent nights on the beach, in the mountains, in an armchair, in bed, constantly asking why? I searched everywhere for answers. Only Death could and knew all the answers, I called out to her, until she finally came to me.

"Why?

" I've been asked this question for centuries, by kings, princesses, merchants, soldiers, mothers, wives, lovers. I thought maybe you'd be the first...

" "Who will ask another.

" "You're not the first, and certainly not the last." If you want, I'll answer them, but it won't be anything you haven't guessed or known, though it might be difficult at first to grasp it all with the mind you've had so far, but everything in due time.

* * *

- Let's start with the fact that you call me Death, and I'm not Death at all, there's no such person at all, I only exist in your imagination.

- And who are you?

- You can call me whatever you want, you people like these clever words you keep coming up with, and only a quarter of you know what they mean. I'm the last thing you see if you die and haven't been chosen.

- Wait, what do you mean chosen? Was she chosen?

- Yes.

- Where is she now?

- She's in a place you call paradise. Don't worry, she's happy, you can't be unhappy there, no matter who ends up there will never know any more worries, but you probably know that.

- You see her.

"No. Let me explain everything first, and then you can ask questions. You asked at the beginning why she died, the answer is simple. The Father wanted it that way. You most often call him God, though that seems absurd because you also call Zeus God, and yet you 'know' that there is one God. But to the point, your life, each and every one of you, is like a test. Whether you will be chosen depends on what kind of people you are. It's not just about what you do, but what you think, say, and most importantly, what you feel, what you have in your hearts—that's the criterion. Some need more time to prove to the Father that you deserve Peace, others more, and still others don't experience it at all, they simply die.

" "Does that mean we have to earn death?

" "Death for the chosen one is a passage to a better world, to a higher level of existence; there have never been any complaints. When the Father sees inner goodness in someone, he causes them to die and takes them to his 'world'." So that he no longer suffers, feels no pain, no tears, unless it's from happiness. This is liberation, freedom.

- And if you weren't chosen?

- Your existence ends.

- How does it end, and there's nothing more?

- No.

- There's no Purgatory or Hell?

- You people invented that to calm your conscience, so you could be a little bad and then redeem your sins in Purgatory and go to heaven, but it's not that sweet. There's no Hell either, the Father didn't banish anyone, there's no Satan or whatever you call him, the devil, the Antichrist.

- Exactly, does Jesus exist?

- Do you doubt his existence?

- No, I don't know, I'm asking to be sure.

- He exists, he lived with you for a time to show you what kind of heart you should have to enter his world, but you "sent" him back to us sooner than he wanted. The Father explained a lot to you through him, but you added even more to yourselves, adapted what he gave you to your own needs.

- Will I meet her again someday?

- No.

- Why?

"Can't you guess?

" "I won't be chosen. Is there anything else I can do about it?

" "It happens very rarely, but there is a possibility of Almighty Love, if you loved someone very much in life. Only a few are capable of such love. They appear among you only once every five hundred years. They can get a chance to return to humanity and make themselves better, or even more special. The Father gives a "wild card" and becomes Eternity, just like the chosen ones.

" "I loved her more than anything in the world, truly, believe me.

" "It's not for me to judge; it's not up to me to decide. It also partially depends on the other person; if they loved you equally deeply and didn't choose Oblivion, they can intercede for you.

" "Oblivion? I don't understand."

"When you die, the Father offers the chosen ones Soul Love. It's the bliss you feel in "paradise." As I said, you can't be unhappy then, and there's a choice: you can remember your life on earth or not. Simple. I'm very sorry, but she chose Forgetfulness.

" "Impossible, she wouldn't want to forget me.

" "It's not about you. With Soul Love, your mind's capabilities increase; you perceive a different, better understanding of existence, you think with different values. You don't have to choose Forgetfulness right away, but once you decide, you can't undo it. She probably thought you'd meet when your time comes, but it won't happen.

" "Father, right? An almighty cruel man who brings disease and war upon people!

" "Shut up!!! You decide the world! You own what you've created, all of this is your work, you inflict pain and suffering on yourselves, these are your wars, your diseases. THIS IS YOUR WORLD!!!" The Father doesn't interfere with it, you have free will, he gives you happiness, calls you to a better existence, to the Love of the Soul.

"I'm sorry, but I can't come to terms with this; it disappointed and shocked me a bit.

" "I have to leave you now. Do you understand what we were talking about? " "

Yes, at least I'm trying. Finally, tell me at least this... when I die, how much time do I have left, if you know, of course?

" "I thought I explained it to you. You're already dead.

" "What???

" "You died, and that's it.

THE END

. I'm dead? Sure, that's what I needed. What's the end, what Chosen One? Oblivion? What now? What now?!!! How did it all happen so imperceptibly, you wake up in the morning, talk, and then find out you'll never wake up again, it's like being hit in the head with a hammer. Why is nothing happening, there's no light, where am I supposed to go?

Who was I, who am I, who will I never be? It's funny how many questions you can ask yourself about your own being these days." I wonder if anyone will remember me. I hope I've somehow made my mark on history. Shit, I haven't. Who will remember someone like me? That means practically no one, maybe at most, and at least my loved ones. I never stood out in any way, I didn't erect an "eternal monument" for myself. I didn't make it, and maybe I never would. I won a competition in high school—maybe they wrote that down somewhere? I once wanted to write a book, but after the first few pages, I didn't know what to write next, so I gave up. What the fuck do I care now? I'm dead.

It turns out I don't have goodness in my heart, even though I always tried. I wasn't an angel, I'm not, I guess I can still say I'm not. Whatever, but I can't deny the desire.

Jesus, it's true that your whole life flashes before your eyes at the moment of death, but for me, it's over. I still wanted to do so much, I kept repeating I still had time, but unfortunately, my shitty, miserable life is over. I never liked my job; I worked for the money, but now I can say it's not the most important thing, now...

Even SHE, the love of my life, wanted to forget about me, so I really must have meant little to anyone. Faith, hope, love. Yes, I had it all, but you took it away from me, Father!!! Interesting, I call her "the love of my life," and only now did I think of her—you don't even realize how selfish you are. I love her. I love you. Why did you forget? And why not? I was simply worthless; even my reflections suck.

How hopeless it all is now, all this talk about the afterlife, reincarnation, and all the rest of the nonsense I've been filling my head with. I've even thought about what it's like to die, at times I've even imagined my funeral. My mother crying with her wife, fainting. I only had my mother, and I thought I'd found my wife, but I was at her funeral, not her at mine. I mean, there's something more, if only one tiny condition is met. Right!

That's how it is? Your whole life is fucked up, and on top of that, there's nothing left after it.

Okay, end it already, Father! What are you waiting for, do you want to torture yourself, or do you want me to torture myself with self-pity? What are you waiting for?! You're so good, you're looking for the good, so find it within yourself and please end it already. I can't stand it anymore! Please! Let it be over, let me disappear or something, and it'll be over. You heard me! Maybe you'd finally make up your mind and kill me, because that's what you have to do, take my life, so do it. Come on, it's not the first time! Let this be over.