TS 2 Part VI Chapter 6

Chapter 6

October 15^th, 2010

Khanty Mansiysk.

The well known Rolls Royce parked in front of the house and Guntram sighed, letting the curtain fall across his studio window. He turned around and began to fumble with his painting robe's buttons to get rid of it. 'Why is Constantin back? I was supposed to have one more day of holidays! One, two, three, four, five, six... Massaiev is getting old.'

“There you are. Come downstairs. Mr. Kuragin is here,” Massaiev said from the door. “Wash your hands well and use the alcohol gel.”

“Have you realised that I'm almost twenty-eight years old?” Guntram replied very irked. “I'm not a child to be reminded to be clean.”

“Just do it, Fedia. You will understand it later. Hurry up!”

Grudgingly, Guntram went to the bathroom to wash his hands and apply the gel. 'Since when Constantin is so touchy? He never had troubles with the turpentine before and I'm not a careless pig. Mikhail Petrovich is overdoing it once more.'

The New Boy

Here he is, Julian. He's nothing like the princely Guntram who had two gentlemen fighting over him or the sweet Marcial, who had an obtrusive trasgu following him everywhere (much to his suitors annoyance). No, Julian has nothing of the sort, his manners leave a lot to be desired (but he's willing to change), no noble backgrounds or fortune (and he desperately needs one). On the bright side, he's intelligent, flexible in his thinking, fearless and willing to do anything in order to change his monotone suburban life.

I would love to hear your comments.

TS 2 Part VI Chapter 5

Chapter 5

September 10^th, 2010

Zurich

'This meeting proves that we are exactly at the same starting point as day one,' thought Alexei as the elevator's metal doors closed before him. 'Nothing at all, as if the earth would have swallowed that piece of shit.' He sighed and clutched the large blue tupperware stronger than he really intended and released his hold when his fingers turned white. He walked down the ivory corridor and rang the golden bell.

“You are twenty minutes late,” a very irked Goran told him when he opened his flat's door.

“I have a private life, you know?” growled Alexei and entered in the white and modern foyer, still holding the blue container in his hand and stopped at the large painting of a landscape in one of the walls. “Is it new?”

“Not really, it was Guntram's. He told me to take it if I liked it. It's somewhere in Spain.”

“It's very good,” Alexei commented fighting with the constriction in his throat. “You can almost feel the sun.”

“The others are waiting in the living room.”

Alexei nodded and entered in the large room decorated mostly with glass libraries from the floor to the ceiling filled with books on warfare, classical music and history and approached the three large white sofas around a crystal and marble coffee table full with papers where Ferdinand, Michael, Ratko and Milan were sitting, all of them informally dressed.

The Sour Hereafter

Swiss National Bank

The Sour Hereafter

June 4^th, 1980

Friederich saw the priest came out from the room and his eyes watered. “You can go in. He is at peace now,” the old man said as he patted his arm.

“Thank you, Father. We will let you know when the time comes.”

“Yes, thank you. Stay here. I know my way out.”

Alone in the living room, Friederich took several deep breaths before he went into the main bedroom. The image of the lying form of Karl Heinz was a shock for him, but he hid it before he sat on the border of the bed, gently taking the other man’s stiff hand between his own ones.

“The doctor will see you soon,” Friederich said kindly, leaning his body over the bed and releasing the hand to caress his friend's forehead.

“What for? Not much to do,” Karl Heinz growled.

“There is always something to do.”

“Hiding my Armagnac bottle will not save me, Friederich. You have heard that sawbones of Benoit. I don't have much time left. We don't have much time left.” He extended his hand and Friederich clasped it again in his.

“You should not tire yourself so much.”

“I will rest for a very long time soon enough. Once, I thought I would die alone, in a snowy plain far away from home; but I am here, with you.”

“I'll stay with you until Konrad arrives. He should be here soon,” Friederich said moved, refusing to acknowledge what was coming.

“Maybe,” Karl Heinz answered very slowly. “Will you be there for him, like you were for me?”

“Yes, I will. For as long as he needs me.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Karl Heinz said on the limit of his strength.

“You should not speak. It only tires you,” Friederich scolded him with a smile even as he helped his friend to lean his head over his own chest, softly caressing the Duke’s white hair.