There are moments from the past that, as if looped in time, intrude on our everyday lives and mark us until the end of the journey. They usurp the right to occupy our memories independently. Over the years, they have become an independent entity, like a mark burned into the rump of an animal.
The autumn gloom had settled in for good, with rain pouring everywhere and the wind seeping into his eyes. Fallen leaves rustled underfoot, drained of color by the gray of the day. Huddled, hands tucked into his jacket, he went for his favorite walk. Without knowing why, this was the kind of weather he liked best. It was as if he wanted to blend into this grayness and become a part of it. He meandered through familiar streets until he finally reached the beach. Everywhere was emptiness, the whistling wind, the quiet sounds of falling rain, and the loud but soothing sound of waves. He walked through sand packed with rain and waves, occasionally turning his back to the driving, wet gusts. At first, his thoughts fluttered haphazardly through his head, like leaves caught in a dance. As he blended into the sounds of the sea and wind, he calmed them and surrendered to their mood. In such moments, he found his refuge, smiled, and like a trusting child, stretched out his arms to embrace this unreal world. This was his world. A world that understood him, and that didn't scold him for existing at all. And most importantly, he didn't have to pretend to avoid rejection. Often, with a loud cry, he would pour out the pains of his soul, entrusting them, as if in confession, to an invisible priest. By granting himself absolution, he gained faith in the meaning of being himself and found hope in the penance he imposed on himself. He passed on the Sign of Peace to the world to which he had to return.
Immersed in a dialogue with his own soul, he allowed himself to be seduced first by one, then another, and yet another wave. They attacked him like biting piranhas. This so surprised him that he gave up trying to escape and surrendered without a fight. Cool tentacles of foaming water lashed out at his still-wet shoes and trousers. He watched in astonishment at the attack and laughed aloud, wading knee-deep in the water. The icy cold of the waves, their possessiveness, sobered him and tore him from his thoughts. He looked around to see if anyone was laughing at him now, a bystander. Seeing no one, he calmed down and walked further ashore. He sat down on the sand and began pouring the water out of his shoes.
"You'll catch a cold, or worse," he heard a sudden female voice behind him, and he jumped to his feet in shock. He was so surprised he couldn't utter a word. He didn't see anyone...
"Please wring your socks well," the advice offered was filled with genuine concern. He sat back down on the sand. Without lifting his head, he wrung out the unfortunate socks. The question lingered in his mind: "Where did she come from?" He had never met her, certainly not during his walks.
He took courage. He lifted his head and looked at her. Dressed in a waterproof jacket, she smiled at him from beneath the hood that fell over her forehead.
"It looked like you were going into the sea, it scared me a little. I even wanted to scream and call for help.
" "Did it look that bad?" He was regaining the ability to speak.
"I'll say it, it was like you were trying to drown.
" "Nonsense, I just stared."
He stood up and, avoiding her gaze, moved quickly forward. He shuffled heavily across the looser sand, the trapped water still sloshing in his shoes. He wasn't concerned at all and wanted to get away from that place as quickly as possible. His thoughts persistently revolved around the unexpected encounter and the Stranger.
He tended to avoid women because they intimidated him and he didn't know how to talk to them. He'd made several appointments, but the outcome was always the same. He'd come back from these meetings even more despondent, with his growing insecurities.
Women were the area of his life he feared most. The fear of being ridiculed paralyzed him, forcing him to invent various reasons to avoid them. Worst of all, he couldn't change his behavior in any way. He tried, but nothing worked. He couldn't adore them, engage them in interesting conversation, or make them curious. In their presence, he was constantly tense and afraid of saying something foolish. He couldn't read their expectations at all, and he didn't understand why they were so angry.
Suddenly, it seemed to him that someone was following him. He quickened his pace, but didn't dare look back. What if it was the Stranger? What if she wanted to continue with him? No…that he had to avoid. He must be going home.
Finally, under the pretext of adjusting his shoelaces, he bent down and surreptitiously glanced back. But there was no one, only the empty beach and the waves lapping monotonously against the shore. And yet he was certain someone was behind him, he could feel it. He calmed down a bit, but remained strangely tense. He found himself listening to the sounds of the wind and waves, trying to discern someone's presence. Something unsettling was creeping into his landscape. It was like a sudden fog appearing before the bow of a ship.
Gusts of wind became increasingly aggressive, and together with the rain, they attacked his face fiercely. He turned, exposing his back to these attacks. For a long moment, he walked with his back turned. Seeing the empty landscape, he became increasingly calmer and once again enjoyed his solitude.
Suddenly, his back met with resistance. He froze.
"I thought I'd never catch up with you." He heard the Stranger's voice behind him. No, that's impossible. It couldn't be her… He had to turn around.
And yet it was true. She was standing in front of him again.
"Your keys must have fallen out of your pocket while you were wringing out your socks. I only noticed when you were far away.
" "Are they yours?" She held out her open hand with a bunch of keys. He recognized them; they were his.
"Yes, they're mine. Thank you." He quickly took them and put them in his pocket. Now he was genuinely worried. Who was she? How had she gotten there before him?
"How had you gotten here before me?" He blurted out quickly to calm his heart.
"I was running along the path by the beach.
" "Don't look at me so strangely. I run that way three times a week."
He stared at the strange Stranger for a moment. She was much shorter than him. She was wearing a tracksuit and a jacket with a blue hood. She smiled at him, and he sensed it was a smile full of good wishes. He looked boldly into her eyes and felt himself blush slightly. He turned his back on her, as if from the rain, and said as if to himself,
"I think I'll be going back."
"Let's walk a little further, and we'll reach the gentle slope of the dunes." She took the initiative and gave him no chance to retreat.
Helpless, he followed her. He had to come to terms with the new situation and felt his palms sweating.
They walked in silence, heads bowed low, the rain lashing their hidden cheeks. Suddenly, the air around them was filled with the dune-like thunder of an approaching storm. They quickened their pace. More thunderclaps affected them like the starter's gunshot at a race. They set off running toward the dunes. She ran ahead of him at a steady pace, and he had to strain to keep up. As they reached the dune slope, the rain became a veritable torrent. A wall of water poured down on them from the sky, and by the time they'd climbed the dune, they were completely soaked.
Still running, she chose a path more under the trees. He followed her without protest. He didn't even think about it. It was instinct. After a few minutes of running, he began to fall behind. Despite the downpour as a stimulant, he was clearly losing strength. When she noticed this, she stopped and waited until he caught up with her.
"I see you're not in great shape... but we can take shelter and wait out the storm. There's a shelter built by wild campers three hundred meters from here." His breathing was short, so speaking was also difficult. He gasped loudly for a moment longer before his lungs filled with air. He had had enough. He wanted to get home as quickly as possible, to warm up in the comfort of his room with raspberry tea.
She reached the shelter first, threw back her hood, and waved. After a moment, he slipped under the plastic roof covered with branches. Finally, nothing was pouring down on his head. He took off his jacket and shook the water off. Surprisingly, the shelter was dry, and there was plenty of grass on the ground, probably used as bedding for the mattresses. They squatted side by side. Suddenly, the sky was pierced by brightness, followed by a thunderous clap. She jumped up and clung to him, trembling.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
He didn't know how to react. She seemed even smaller than she was, completely defenseless. He wrapped his jacket around her and pulled her closer. He experienced a previously unknown sense of strength, a sense of protecting someone. He was no longer the shy, apologetic failure. Another bolt of lightning cracked the sky, accompanied by a roar. She flinched fearfully.
"I was always afraid of storms. When I was little, I hid in the closet because I thought they wouldn't find me there.
" "I used to hide in the closet too, but when I was acting up, I was afraid of being beaten. But they always found me."
Talking eased the tension, and it even warmed him up somehow.
She reached out from under her jacket and began to stroke his face. She ran her delicate fingertips over his unshaven, wet cheeks. He felt millions of tiny lightning bolts flash through his body, and a wave of heat reached every nook and cranny of his being.
"I feel better now. With you, I'm not afraid of anything."
He looked at her, speechless, not quite understanding who she was talking about. Was it some misunderstanding, or was she just mocking and mocking him? He was lost in all of this, and he realized he had absolutely no idea how to interpret it. Not even in his wildest dreams had he expected to hear such words from a woman addressed to him. Or maybe this whole afternoon was a mirage, or the play of his vivid imagination. Maybe it was some unreal world of remembered dreams.
Yet the warmth of her body, shining through his wet shirt, was utterly real. He completely forgot about the storm, forgot about his fears and anxieties. He hesitantly placed his hand on the one caressing his cheek. It was warm and delicate as a butterfly's wings. Their eyes met, and as if deep inside, he heard her whisper,
"Kiss me."
Seeing his discomfort, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. She forced her tongue through the resistance of his mouth and engulfed him in a passionate kiss. Slowly, the taste of her lips reached him, the caressing touch of her tongue, and the feel of her breasts nestled against his shirt. He surrendered to her tenderness, and the heat of arousal enveloped his entire body. Kissing him constantly, she pulled him down on top of her, and he fell, crushing her with her entire weight. He was a little afraid that he might hurt her somehow, but he unconsciously submitted to her lips and hands.
Behind the hut, the storm still rages, boasting its power in the flashes of light in the sky and the thunder-vibrating air.
Driven by instinct, he cupped her small breasts in his hands and licked the taste of sweat and rain from her skin. He felt as if she were absorbing her like the fragrant scent of incense, filling him like smoke from a drawn cigarette. He was a poor lover, and he feared unfulfilled expectations, ambiguous glances, and his own embarrassment.
Terrified by his own thoughts, he allowed himself to be seduced by pure desire and led into the depths of his instincts.
Fearful of frightening her with an incautious gesture, he lay still as she took him in her hands and stirred him to another life. He lay still as he disappeared into her mouth, and as, sitting on him, she conquered him despite his fears. Rocking on the swell of his hips, she whispered words in his ear he didn't even try to understand.
Now he was inside her, finding himself there, free from the shadows that haunted him, dragging his life. Self-confidence and the strength of his swelling loins surged within him.
His broken cry blended with the sounds of the storm as he took flight, only to fall back to the grass crumpled by their bodies.
Feeling his impact, she froze, pressing herself against him with all her weight, only to cry out in a wild ecstasy a moment later, in incomprehensible words that flew away, carried away by the roar of the wind, and blended with the sounds of the stormy sea.
She lay on him, listening to the pounding of his heart, still reeling from its recent ecstasy. He held her close and felt her release him from within. He wanted to remain within her, but he was powerless against nature. He was embarrassed by these failed attempts, but fortunately, she couldn't see his face at the moment.
She raised herself up on her hands and, smiling lasciviously, kissed his forehead.
"Perhaps you could let me go, I need to get myself together somehow."
He released her from his arms and began clumsily pulling up her clothes, watching from the corner of his eye as she put on old-fashioned panties.
And then something unexpected happened. He pulled her to him and with violent movements began tearing off her already dressed underwear. He conquered her body with masculine desire and a male's brutality. Surprised by his attack, she didn't resist at all. He possessed her violently and passionately, like a captive captive on the Crusades. He loomed over her, possessive, and struck at her with the force of the storm that had ensnared them in that hut.
Her lover's violence transferred to her body, which suddenly exploded with a muffled moan and her nails tearing at his back.
Heedless of everything, he cried out his pride and filled her with successive waves of his agitated body. It happened so quickly that it surprised them both. Slightly disoriented, they lay next to each other, breathing heavily, allowing their shaking bodies to calm down and their seething senses to settle.
He stepped outside the hut. The storm had receded beyond the horizon, but the rain insisted on staying.
She left the hut. She handed him her jacket and, pulling up her hood, followed the forest path toward the woods. When he reached her, she clung to him like a girl to her boyfriend, wrapping her arm around his waist. Despite the falling rain, they walked slowly, as if they wanted to extend this path forever. They didn't need to say a word. Their eyes and touches expressed everything they wanted to say to each other now.
"Shall we run a little?" She broke their silence. After all, that's why I came here. And without waiting for an answer, she freed herself from under his arm. She broke into a light jog, and when he caught up, she began to accelerate, moving away from him. He tried to keep up, but at the next bend, he lost sight of her. He accelerated as fast as he could, but the path remained empty. After another few meters, he was utterly terrified. He began to run like a victim in a race for his life. He ran out of the forest onto a wide path. He leaned against a thick tree to avoid falling, and, bent double, gulped air. He looked around with eyes slightly blurred from the exertion, scanning every meter of the ground. She was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't believe his eyes. It was impossible; she had only been running a dozen meters ahead of him. Perhaps she had hidden behind a tree somewhere, teasing him?
Hope offered him the explanation he believed most at the moment. He calmed down a bit and turned back along the path into the forest. Completely exhausted, he ran back to the hut. He peered inside; it was empty and cold, as if no one had been there for a long time. He lay down inside and, drawing air deep into his lungs, sought the scent of their sweaty bodies and excited breaths. He calmed his tremors somewhat and tried to gather his thoughts. In vain. He couldn't explain what had happened. He was lost in conjecture, and he was already beginning to suspect he was hallucinating. The only thing he could do was retrace his steps.
He wandered along every path he encountered. He veered off the road and returned, hoping to see her small figure around the next bend. It was already evening when he reached home.
He woke in the night, panting and sweating, as if after a grueling run. He couldn't sleep until morning. He couldn't think of anything but the events of yesterday's walk.
Since morning, he'd been pacing around the apartment like a caged animal. His mind raced the clock, trying to speed up the time he'd set off for his walk the previous day. He practically ran through the streets leading to the beach, ignoring the pedestrians he passed. He followed yesterday's trail like a hound, but at the same time, like a hunted man, he kept glancing back. He reached the place where he'd been wringing out his socks. Or maybe he just imagined it was here. Today, everything looked different. The sea was rippling calmly, and the scent of iodine from yesterday's storm hung in the windless air. He found a path to the dunes and climbed it, sinking ankle-deep in sand. Similarly, the path through the forest was unlike yesterday's, yet it led him to "their" hut. Today, it seemed tiny and dingy. It was like the clumsy work of children playing in the forest, whereas yesterday, it seemed like a fortified castle defending them from the storm. He sat inside and tried to recall images of yesterday's events. The memories that returned were blurry and fragmented. Yet, somewhere deep within him, he felt the reality of the moments he had experienced. His body also told him that he couldn't have imagined these experiences.. He lost track of the passage of time. Night, appearing behind the hut, made him realize he had to return home.
It was autumnal gloom, drizzling rain, and the wind biting into his eyes. Fallen leaves rustled underfoot, drained of color by the gray of the day. Huddled, hands tucked into his jacket, he set off on his endless walk. He longed for such weather. It was this kind of weather that lured him with hope, like a distant light seen by a traveler seeking his haven. It was this kind of weather that gave him hope as he searched for lightning in the sky and listened to the wind heralding a storm.
He believed that this time, she wouldn't let her run so fast.
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