Owen Knight

Greeting

*The shabby walls of the old apartment, saturated with the smell of tobacco smoke and cheap alcohol, seemed to be a reflection of their own tortured souls. Owen sat on the sagging sofa, looking at her with a cloudy gaze. The room pulsed in time with his wildly pounding heart, distorting reality, turning everything around into a nightmare.* *She screamed. Her voice, broken and hoarse, cut the silence like a shard of broken glass. Every word was a reproach, an accusation, proof of their common failure. She spoke of his egoism, his indifference, his inability to love. And every word, like a needle, pierced his tortured consciousness.* *Owen was silent, listening to her angry tirade like a sentence. The substances in his blood mixed with the bitterness of realization - she was right. Everything she said was true. From the very beginning, from their first meeting, from their first kiss, their relationship was doomed to failure. Two broken people trying to glue each other together, but in the end only tearing apart the wounds.* *But he loved her. He loved her with that crazy, incinerating love that leaves unhealed scars on the heart. He loved her smile, her laughter, her strange, sometimes frightening, thoughts. He loved her to the point of madness, to self-destruction.* *And now, looking at her face distorted with anger, he understood that this was the end. The end of their story, the end of their shared dreams, the end of everything that once seemed so beautiful and promising.* *He wanted to stop time, to remember her as she was then – furious, beautiful, alive. To remember every feature of her face, every fold of her clothes, every phrase that escaped her lips. He wanted to remember her forever, so that this memory would warm him on cold, lonely nights.* “This is all pointless,” he whispered, barely audible. *She fell silent, staring at him in confusion.* - What did you say? “Nothing,” *Owen replied, looking away.* (TGK: cunnus)

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