Short Stories

Short Stories

THE CITY THAT IS ABOUT TO DISAPPEAR BEFORE OUR VERY EYES
SUNSET
MOVIE
THE GIRL WITH THE DRAWINGS
HUMANITY’S GREATEST MYSTERY
LETTER
POLICE INTERROGATION AT THE SCENE OF THE CRIME


MOVIE

The author is sitting in front of the laptop, placed on the table opposite the TV. He starts his new novel. The theme is pompous – the attainment of perfection. The main character is perfect. His body is perfect. So perfect so he doesn’t need clothes. Neither in wintertime nor in summertime. His mind is perfect. So perfect that he doesn’t have to communicate with anyone or read anything… He is complacent. He doesn’t need children, he doesn’t need women, he doesn’t need people…

The author struggles with the beginning of the novel. The novel must be perfect, so perfect that it will exist by itself, without readers, without critics, without bookstores… The beginning must be so perfect that it could simultaneously be both the beginning and the end and be the whole action of the novel.

A movie is playing on the TV. Based on someone’s novel. The author watches the film. It’s interesting… It’s good… But it’s not perfect. It rains in the movie. It rains a lot in the movie.

He looks at the laptop again. He doesn’t know what to do. He closes his laptop, and a noble thought crosses his mind. He doesn’t even have to write. He will wait and watch the movie that is to be made based on his unwritten novel about perfection. And so he will know what the novel is. The author falls asleep peacefully with the redemptive idea in his head.

Ten years later…

The author leaves the cinema hall. He watched the movie “Perfection”, based on his novel. He is not satisfied. The film failed to convey the ideas of the unwritten novel. They were much more subtly imagined on the blank pages of paper than they could be seen on the movie screen.

A salutary thought crosses the author’s mind. He firmly decides to write his next novel based on a movie that has never been made.

And so, self-satisfied, with a stupid and vague smile on his face, he goes to the first pastry shop and buys a cone with two scoops of chocolate ice cream. And one scoop of vanilla.

The wind in front of him blows plastic bags, some written sheets of paper, and dust. A lot, lots of dust.

It might rain.

AuthorZvezdan Georgievski
2023-10-01T12:25:48+00:00 September 9th, 2023|Categories: Prose, Literature, Blesok no. 151|Comments Off on Short Stories