Two characters: Mr. Wilson (W), the chief
of police, and Mr. Bradbury (B), the president.
B: Welcome Wilson.
W: Good morning Mr. Bradbury.
B: Come in, sit down. So, tell me.
W: So, uhm... it's not easy... you know, last week, you told me that
I had to create, to do, well, to put pressure on them and...
B: Yeah, I know, so go ahead...
W: So, I placed some
policemen at the entries of the camp zone. They
have cars and weapons and guns, as
if we were at war.
B: Well. And what did the people
say?
W: Some of them said that
it was not fair, that
it were not normal to be
held captive by the army after these events and they didn't
want to stay forever in
their camp, but... this is not the point.
B: And what's the point?
W: The point is that we brought
people under control, we divided
them into several
camps and put policemen and the
army around the camp and around the destroyed town too. But...
someone is still living in the town.
B: Ok, and did you find him
yet?
W: No, we didn't find it;
or, yes, I found it, but I didn't catch it, I didn't may
catch it.
B: Good, you will keep looking and
when you do find him you'll
explain to him another time that he has to play
safe, that it's dangerous to stay in town and that we must take him
to the camp. I can picture him, the
kind of old man who doesn't want to leave his flat, his cat
and, maybe, his books. So, let him understand that he must follow
you...
W: No, sir. It's not accurate,
I think. It's not a man. It's not somebody... They are not one and
they are not...
B: Animals? I don't care about
animals. The question is that people must stay in the camp and they
have to feel protected.
W: No, sir. Listen... Two days ago a soldier who was guarding a
little access to the town broke his leg because of these beings. He
saw someone walking in the street, so he followed it crying “stop!”,
“alt!”, but when the soldier turned the corner, the subject had
disappeared. The soldier called him, “Hey man! It's dangerous,
bricks and tiles could fall on you!”. But a big rock arrived on him
as a bowling ball and he fell down. He also told that he saw its
coat disappearing behind a wall.
B: Uhm...
W: I immediately started the
search for the man, or what we believed was
a man. We were ten men searching in the town. At the same time, two
men saw him, with the same aspect: black coat, long black hair. My
men tried to follow them, but they failed.
I remained lonely in the main square and I saw it, the fugitive,
behind a column of the town hall's
archway, or what remains of it
after this big earthquake. But when I arrived under the archway, it
wasn't there anymore and I
just had the time to avoid a block of marble. After
that, I saw it walking towards a street.
B: What a story you tell me... in the army you use too much
drugs.
W: No, sir. It was not an
hallucination.
B: But, when you evacuated the town, nobody remained. We just
counted dead persons or refugees
in the camps. There wasn't any missing person...
W: You're right. No missing persons.
But the beings whom I'm speaking of
are not survivors nor
missing.
B: What's your ghost story, Wilson!
W: Listen to it, sir. I saw
it walking towards a street on the right side of the town hall. I
followed it and it turned to the
left, then took a right and
a left again.
When I got there it had disappeared. I waited and he came back and
looked to me. I saw its face and it wasn't a human face. It looked
like a woman, but it wasn't. It was looking
at me and I thought that it was going to kill me just
by looking, with its
white empty and deep eyes. Its face was
marked by too many winters, as
many winters as death saw. No, sir. It was not human. It began
running again towards
the destroyed and deserted town and I followed it, but I couldn't
catch it. I was exhausted. I
followed it within the medieval centre town and in all dead-ends and
streets. I followed it, and I had the impression that it passed
through walls and changed place without moving. I followed it for the
whole day and the night came down; I followed it for the
whole night and the dawn came up. I followed it for
another day and another
night and it never stopped, this creature
of ruins. I followed it to the church. Sunshine entered yet by
the fallen roof and the altar had never
seen so much light. It came
down and I rejoined it in a
dark crypt. There, I saw them, the three beings, around an altar and
a tabernacle and between columns. I saw them, Mr. Bradbury, I was in
front of them, three inhuman beings and I was afraid, terrified
of dying. I spoke as if it was the last words I would
said: “What are you?”
“Just voices, Wilson. Just voices. We are the lost souls
of this dead town. Bradbury is the new king of a new town,
another dead town, that he built up with his business men. And you
assure his power on people. But he will let you down, Wilson. He will
ask you to put more and more pressure on people, he will ask you to
kill people. He will ask you to be a cruel warrior. Than, he will
punish you for your misfortunes. He will appear to people as the
clement and estimated liberator. And you, oh Wilson, what a bad
fate... Bradbury will let you down. You are just a tool,
Wilson”.
That's what they said, Mr Bradbury.
B: This is literature, Wilson. What's your strategy?
W: I don't care if this is fiction or not, Mr Bradbury. But the
oracles have spoken and events can't keep
going as they were before their speech. So, I propose you a
strategy. I will put more pressure on people, as you want. I will
kill people, as you want. I will perform
your terror strategy and I'll
let you punish me. But, just on
one condition: the punishment will be a fiction, a novel, a
tell story. I'm tired, Mr Bradbury. I'm not interested in glory. I
just want to live peacefully in this island not far from Sardinia
where I'm trying to buy a villa. I let you the glory, you assure to
me the villa and a private income. It's not a fiction, Mr Bradbury.
