Broken moon. God’s court

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Olga Kholodova. Broken moon. God’s court

Broken moon

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God’s court

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The cigarette stub slowly smoldered in an ashtray, and its smoke, was divided into parts, getting to the morning beams of the sun sliping through bluish blinds of a window. The chamber was painted in white color, and furniture: a table, a chair, a bed and a case – added a blueness droplet to this cool atmosphere. Near an ashtray on a table lay: a pencil and album sheets on which various sketches of the sick artist were visible.

Robert lay on a bed and indifferently looked in a ceiling. He moved lips, and tried to tell something. The face of the guy was sad and gloomy, and blue of his bottomless eyes attracted and bewitched. What he thought of? What wanted to tell? Unfortunately nobody knew and even guessed what Robert wanted to tell. The guy was brought to psychiatric clinic when he hardly was eighteen years old. Now to Robert already thirty. The tall fair-haired person with expressive features and the obscured eyes seemed silly and helpless.

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Frederick took drawings from hands of the girl and began to look through them attentively. Abilene stood at a table and looked at professor. She hoped that Frederick will resolve this riddle and will cure Robert. For a moment to the girl it became sad when she saw how professor smiled, turning over drawings. Some time later, the Professor said, “It is interesting why we did not notice such mysterious trifle at once. Broken moon.”

“Maybe because all the pictures painted clear night and the moon is lost in sight, because it merges with stars and dark tones,” said Abilene.

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