HOME              Simone Heil

www.artshange.fr

mail@artshange.fr

KURZGESCHICHTEN: deutsch

NOUVELLES: français

SHORT STORIES: English

Original in German

Volume:  9 937 signs  ~  7 A4-pages of 1 500 signs

SHORT STORY: The Statue

 

Writer and Copyright: Simone Heil

The Statue

14 th December 2012

 

    Trees are swaying in the wind. Clouds pull in together and apart again. In the break room, the 27-year-old assistant doctor Sylvain looks distracted out of the window. Clouds and ideas pass like interwoven disjointed through his thoughts. I should go out again. Thought, done. He had not expected it so stormily. He went further than intended. He turned into a dirt road behind the hospital, surrounded by trees and bushes, which led to a nearby forest. He was about to turn back when he saw a crouching figure among shrubs. He looked into the most beautiful, painful face he had ever seen. So much beauty with so much pain expression, as unusual.

    Stunned, he stared into that face. He believed to fall in love even though he was already engaged. But that's a statue, drove it out of him. He stroked over welmed the curved back. What kind of artist could do such a work? Even now he held this statue for a man. However, what gender had this man? I have to bring this statue to my home, I have to make it, I have to look at it alone before I show it to others. But how? The figure were not made of marble but of marble-like plaster. How odd, Sylvain was thinking, it cannot sit here for a long time. Plaster, he was relieved, he could move the statue alone, though with difficulty.

    Hastily, Sylvain stumbled into the hospital and returned with a blanket.  He spread it gently over the statue which he called Angelina. Hesitantly, he covered her face. He did not want to take her breath. He had decided that the androgynous countenance, from which he could not turn his gaze, belonged to a woman. The body was wrapped in a wrinkled, timeless garb that Sylvain could not associate with any epoch. Arms and hands were delicate, the bare feet were childishly plump. He looked again at the face filled with pain and astonishment. How odd. He turned away brusquely. Now just do not lose mastery, examine patients, just do not act routinely, never forget the uniqueness of each human. In the hospital, he was caring, patient, helpful, receptive, and everyone, even him, was satisfied

    After work he went back to the forest. Where should I bring Angelina? I have to do something completely absurd, he said to himself. I must take her to the floor to my parents. Best, I'll go home again. Gently, almost hesitantly, he untied the blanket from the statue. He stepped back quickly several steps. Yes, this is a statue of unusual beauty, but only a statue. What did you just see before? What do you see now? I see a copy that I love. I love, I am in love with a reflection. But my feelings are true.

    He decided to keep at first his discovery for himself. On the same evening, he and his neighbor carried a bulky package wrapped in blankets to his apartment. He was in high spirits, just like lovers do, and decided to enjoy this strange mood up. He was convinced that it would be over tomorrow. He layed over the bread slices carefully and sat down opposite Angelina. He felt well in her presence. The statue seemed to return his feelings. It looked as if it wants to say something. Sylvain felt well in its presence. The statue calms down and gave him wings. Gloomily, he thought of his earthly love. Even at the beginning of her studies, Lisa had noticed Sylvian and met him through common friends. ... ... ...

INTERESTED TO READ FURTHER ?  -  CONTACT:  mail@artshange.fr

 

Deutsch

Français

English

ROMANE

ROMANS

NOVELS

GEDICHTE

POÈMES

POEMS

ESSAYS

ESSAIS

ESSAYS

 

 

 

home page