And indeed it could be said that once the faintest stirring of hope became possible, the dominion of plague was ended.
And indeed it could be said that once the faintest stirring of hope became possible, the dominion of plague was ended.
What really counted was the possibility of escape, a leap of freedom, out of the implacable ritual, a wild run for it that would give whatever chance for hope there was. Of course, hope meant being cut down on some street corner, as you ran like mad, by a random bullet. But when I really thought it through, nothing was going to allow me such a luxury. Everything was against it; I would just be caught up in the machinery again.
As if that blind rage had washed me clean, rid me of hope for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. Finding it so much like myself so like a brother, really I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again. For everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, I had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.
If there is a sin against life, it lies perhaps less in despairing of it than in hoping for another and evading the implacable grandeur of the one we have.
For if there is a sin against life, it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life as in hoping for another life and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories