The fireplace, on the other hand, was made in the form of a gate with two cast-iron wings and a semicircular arch at the top. It was about four meters high and three meters wide. The left wing was always slightly ajar. There was a huge broken lock on the floor, which, as Gino thought, symbolized the detabooing prohibitions with the goal of tasting the fruits of a sinful life. Inside, figures in the form of sinners, burning in hell, were carved in stone above the flames. Due to the play of light and shadow from the fire, the characters literally came to life. Some of them looked so terrifying and realistic that it seemed one could hear their gut-wrenching screams.
Gino entered the living room, went to the bar, took out a bottle of whiskey, poured some alcohol and added ice. Then, with an elegant gesture, opened a box of cigars, lit one, and with a full glass in his hands headed towards the fireplace.
The lights in the living room were dimmed, which added a feeling of loneliness in the large hall. He turned on «Requiem,» a masterpiece written by Mozart shortly before the composer’s death, and went closer to the fireplace.
First, Gino went to the coffee table near the armchairs, put down the glass, and, having rested the cigar in the ashtray, put his hands in the pockets of his silk robe. He took a few steps towards the fireplace, peering at the eerie images. His heart started pounding. He stretched his hands toward the flame, squatted and started looking at the fire. Bringing them very close, Gino tried to overcome the pain and endure as much as he could. His eyes reflected fear and the light of the flame. Feeling that he was badly burned, he yanked his hands, pursing his lips in pain. His eyes sparkled with anger because he couldn’t control the pain. Abruptly he stood up and staggered back, looked at the table, took the whiskey and drank it all at once. Gino took a drag off his cigar and exhaled the smoke, then settled comfortably in his chair. When he calmed down a little, he looked at the large painting «The Game» by the Russian artist Alexander Kulikov, hanging to the right of the fireplace. It was the same painting, the subject of which would later run through his mind a moment before he lost his balance and plunged off a cliff into the sea.
As he looked at the characters playing with death over the abyss, he associated himself either with an indifferent audience or with a desperate fool risking his life for fun. But at the same time, they all evoked some kind of contempt in him. He started reflecting on the characters in the picture: on the one hand, Gino’s self-criticism helped to find their flaws in himself, but, on the other hand, his high self-esteem yelled: «No, no, you’re not like them!»
Still, he somehow didn’t really want to be a rascal or a fool like the characters depicted there.
At the same time, it was interesting what prompted the main character to put on a blindfold and take a risk of his life at the edge of a cliff.
«Maybe he lost a bet?» thought Gino. «Or maybe he owed something and didn’t pay it back. Or maybe they all, taking turns putting on the blindfold, are recklessly playing Blind Man’s Bluff with fate, driven by greed. Fighting for some cash prize that will go to the only survivor.
***
After graduation from the Italian Institute of Foreign Trade, where Gino went at his father’s insistence, every year the feeling that the restaurant business and service sector were not his things was becoming more and more intense. And in general, the word «business’ was associated exclusively with the word duty. He allowed the thought, if not entirely of abandoning the restaurant business, then at least of combining the management of a company with his calling to be a writer. After all, this was what he had dreamt of from a young age.
At the same time, the inherited business had literally grown into an essential part of his nature over many years. And therefore it did not cause feelings of hatred or rejection. He was just determined to do what his soul was really drawn to.
Thanks to his mother, who was a philologist, in his youth Gino immersed in reading different types of literature, from the classics to the avant-garde, and either was thrilled to bits or disappointed amid internal conflicts from what he read. In the process of exploring new horizons in books, he was inspired by the idea of becoming a writer himself. The craving for something big and monumental in his inner world played the role of a blinding dream. In the rosy ideas about poetry and philosophy, which he believed imbued exclusively with the spirit of freedom, in his opinion, there was no place for academicism. So he sometimes wrote down only fragments of unfinished thoughts in his notebook, thinking that the most important thing was the essence, and he could return to the details and logical conclusion later.
Years passed and then, as a mature thirty-six-year-old man, Gino looked at life and at the contents of books, in a different way. The clear boundaries between what someone else wrote and his own perception of what he had read did not leave him indifferent. Still studying philosophy, religious, scientific and fiction literature, he tried to transfer the acquired knowledge into his reality.
***
Gino was sitting and deliberating: «How many wise insights can be drawn from the right books. But how much of puffed up twaddle and water are poured onto the pages by the authors who write in order to fill up their bank account. I’m not allowed to start writing at their level and at the same time lie for the sake of material gain. No, everything that I’ve learned from books and my life, I’ll write down on paper, not trying to adjust to the trends of a volatile society. When I become a writer, I will defend my soul impulses of albeit a subjective, but unique and comprehending perspective. Although, in pursuit of the same originality, one must remember the true goals, which are by no means new and often generally accepted.
Yes, sometimes it’s so difficult to transfer the fruits of knowledge from books into your everyday life without turning into a boring skeptic. And vice versa, not become that one by trying on the role of a philosopher when you begin to share your thoughts with your reader.
I’m sure my life experience is unique. But the question is: how dare I tell about myself in my first work? Namely, about a hypnotist who seduces women. I’ll probably have to add that the character is my unspoken prototype and is fictional. Let it remain a mystery to the reader whether such a person really existed, or whether he was just the author’s fantasy. It’s decided! I have to start writing my own novel.»
Gino took a few puffs of his cigar and, putting it back in the ashtray, stood up and walked to another painting called «Multi-faced anticipation,» that was hanging on the left of the fireplace. It was also painted by the artist Alexander Kulikov. It depicted the faces of people with ugly disproportions in cubist style that symbolized not-so-great society of the world around us. But at the very top of the picture there was a face, more harmonious than all the others, hands, joined in a circle, and a baby in the middle of these gentle hands. The one who was on top of the baby symbolized a caring father who protected his child from the outside world.
«Dad, I remember you told me,» Gino whispered as he approached the painting, «that when you bought this painting from your friend Alexander, you thought it was your mission to take care of me and give me a better life, shielding me from trouble and suffering. But now, instead, I’d give up a lot of material things to have a family and children in my life, whom I would protect, just as you once protected me. Dad, how long do I have to wait? You see how lonely I am. Why are women so cold towards me?! I don’t understand. I can’t do this anymore!»
Looking at the picture, Gino squinted thoughtfully and exhaled tensely. He turned towards the chairs, took a step, turned around again, and looked at it. Then he went up to the table, took an empty glass, and headed towards the bar.
Having filled it almost to the brim, he drank it all, and, suddenly getting angry, smashed it onto the floor with all his might.
«Why me?!» he shouted furiously. «What did I do wrong?! Why am I lonely?! How many people get married and divorced? They give birth to children and leave them in the lurch! And all I want is to meet true love. Make a strong family and raise my children. What