ADSactly Fiction: A Set Of Unforeseen Events
A Set Of Unforeseen Events
Far away a car was lit. Behind the wheel an angry man pressed the accelerator and the car flew away. The fight he had with his wife had put him in a bad mood. He thinks, as he drives frantically, that the relationship is hopeless, that they should get a divorce. What happened that morning was the straw that broke the camel's back: the wife has insulted him because he has been thrown out of his job and she needs the money. The man almost cried talking in silence: why doesn't he understand that I feel bad too and what I need at this moment is support? He thinks. The man looks in the rearview mirror and sees only a good and innocent man. He doesn't understand why these things happen to him.
An old woman was walking slowly on the sidewalk and still had the hammering of her son on the wall of the house in her skull. How could her son even think of drilling into the walls at that hour of the afternoon? Although he didn't want to go out, he must have done so because the impertinent noise had given him an unbearable headache. Her son, after the divorce, had had to return to his mother's house and this, although neither of them had accepted it, had caused certain inconveniences between mother and son. He, used to being in charge of his house, had clearly resisted his mother's orders. The mother, long a widow, had complained of male interference. While she was having these thoughts, she felt the fresh breeze and a chill made her cross herself in the middle of the street.
In heaven, a God had fallen asleep. He had stayed up all night because he had been awake all night, watching over the political relations between the United States and China. Absent from everything, he did not see the children playing without parental supervision, nor the old woman walking erratically on the cold afternoon, nor did he see the crying of that unrestrained driver. In the end some human beings are orphans of the protection of heaven and although we may not like to acknowledge them: even heaven has its priorities.
The humid and silent afternoon, so full of suspicion, was suddenly transformed into an ideal moment for danger and tragedy. The grey hair of the old woman was blown by the breeze and fell on her face and into her eyes. Why did I come out, thought the old woman, trying to arrange the hair in a bun. In that instant, the old woman tripped over a stone and fell in the middle of the sidewalk. The children play and laugh innocently. The man cries behind the wheel. He feels a pressure on his head and chest. It is as if the air or sadness is choking him. He closes his eyes for a moment and only a moment is enough: the man loses his balance, the car goes up on the pavement, passes over the old woman and is going to crash into the bodies of the children.
In that precise instant, the sleeping god wakes up. Look at the upper window of the house on the corner. From the window he sees a light and a shadow in it. The woman about to jump, breaks her fall at the sight of that accident. The woman runs down the stairs crying in the face of so much blood. On her way, she prays: My God, let it not be my son, let it not be my son. On the way down, her son looks at the television inattentively. The woman sighs and thanks a distracted god who manages to see the miracle of life and faith behind these unexpected events.
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