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The slave of the lamp
Dandelion
Guardian of hearts
On the precipice of a high mountain stood a man. His hands were clenched into fists with such force that a slight crackling of the skin on his fingers reached his ears. Eyes his were closed, and only on the edges of the eyelashes wind was fiddling with recent the remnants of tears. Lips frantically shaking, weakly mumbling something barely portable words. Silence consumed all around. There was only the trembling of the young man's clothes rushing in the wind.
What are you doing, Riemann? – suddenly seemed somewhere in the velvet calm authoritative voice.
.....
– You said we are all living side by side that is able to correct events, why do you let me whip his relentless scourge, who through the body of a tormented soul? Why do you allow many to do those things, such as you do not allow me to do now, you are hypocritical, wind, you said that the principle is the same, all the same as people, give way, wind, part, and I will do what I decided…
The guy last of all the forces rushed to the edge, and made the final push, breaking through the wind, blown off his feet from the slope, and looking into the blue distance, closed his eyes, moving his hands like a bird, felt it as his body hovers in a strong wind and falling, beating on the ground…
.....