A Day in The Countryside
The physical appearance of Exemoniac did not lie. His appearance… leaving nothing more to be said … said it all. Without realizing it, he had gone through life without life going through him. He was, most of the time, immersed in absentmindedness, as if he did not want to see outside himself; perhaps, to not mortify himself more than necessary (the intelligence of that man!).
He was tall, like all naive and slow men, like all tall men. His mouth was immensely large, like all sincere men. He was too good and his absentmindedness helped him to guard against such excessive kindness or perhaps to get around the blows, which could become stupidity.
Those who knew him as a child remarked with surprise on the big change that had taken place in him. As a child he was a bit bad and heavy-handed when playing. His adolescence had been stormy since he wanted to burn through too many stages at once. Therefore, he did not burn through stages gradually, but instead he had a fire in his life, the marks of which left him with the bitter feeling of misguided precocity and the inherent fear of this experience. He was then left with a desire to lead a very quiet existence.
He was lazy, like all millionaires, and prejudiced and moralist, like all those who are old before their time.
Lucy was a faithful copy of her mother, almost a mental dictation of her: self-interested, like all frivolous girls, a liar, like dead flies, or manipulative, like spiders. When Exemoniac saw her go by, he felt as if his heart needed a pacemaker, his eyes welled up and his hands became sweaty. Lucy, meanwhile, loved naive Exemoniac’s car. And so love and self-interest went to the countryside one day and self-interest proved stronger than the love felt. They say that opposite poles attract one another; love and lack of love attract each other, at least during the time that the one who is simulating conceals themselves. In this case, Lucy had to pretend, and how well she did this! She was extremely kind to him, she treated him like a little boy who could get lost and leave her all his millions. But, as a philosopher said, as I do not search, I find. That is to say, it is sufficient to crave something very much for it to not be fulfilled. Lucy now built one thousand and one types of traps to get her husband, Exemoniac, off to the afterlife, and inevitably, nothing happened: Exemoniac continued in his absentmindedness. As she had that with which to distract herself, Lucy began to hold parties to laugh at her guests (the calling of the rich, of course!). At one of these parties, she met a man who put shame on her as a tie and humiliation as a dress. When she saw him, she felt a chill inside and could not utter a word. When they spoke, they felt the ecstasy of romantic charm and the fear of physical attraction. Aware of their intentions, they stalled, letting the moment mature, as if they were going to enjoy it more with the more they delayed. They liked to practice the art of resistance and apparent dominance, enjoying small details together, such as making contact with words and glances and talking at length about trivial issues. This man, thought Lucy, is different from others: he is patient, distant, discreet and observant, he does not press to achieve his desires, like others who behave as if they had just left prison, which frightens women. Lucy loved comfort too much to leave Exemoniac, but ended up letting her first and perhaps last love get away.
Everything started as passion. The caresses of her lover had the effect of a drug, exciting and hypnotic at the same time. Lucy had just to let her will fall, she would stop being herself, becoming nothing but a vessel of throbbing pleasure, the warm darkness of an abyss. And loving each other, sharing together with their bodies and their spirits, they got to know each other and fell in love as if they would never feel it again. Indeed, Lucy never did feel it again. Time and its comfort dissolved all but the memories, which she evoked daily with the old child of Exemoniac, and they went to the countryside again one day and self-interest was stronger than the love felt.
