Page 321 - Thorn In The Heart

Chinh Nguyên

Nguyen never knew why he roared with painful, dull aching,
afraid of the quietness. He only understands that if activities
stopped in his house, he must face himself, quietness, and
solitary. He will break something to make a noise, listen to radio
news or sat quietly on the sofa with a cup of coffee, smoking
and sink into the music until he falls asleep.

Nguyen did not sleep on his bed, often falling sleep on the
sofa, or the floor in the corner of the living room, where he was
feeling comfortable.

Sometimes, he was afraid of the bad dream, extremely sorry
for the good dream. Or suddenly he wakes up at midnight,
looked at the ceiling in the darkness with full sorrow in his soul
and could not sleep until the sun was raise.

Outside it was raining; the sky was getting thick of black
cloud and dark. The sound of rain was continuous on the roof;
the wind was sighing, blowing through the trees, and entering a
chink of the door. In the living room, the singing has risen in
accord with the sound of the trumpet, combing with the moans
of rain from outside. It seemed it was floundering in the sorrow
of love, war, and death.

Nguyen slept on the sofa, his head was against his right
shoulder, his right hand dropped off of the sofa, and his left hand
put on his stomach.

It was easy to forgive but very hard to forget. So when
Nguyen fall to sleeping in an accident that is the time he forgot
anything. His soul floats with his idle fancies dreams of the
peace and love somewhere.

The door has not shut completely. The light wind blew into
the living room from the door's slit, making Nguyen feel a little
chilly. He changed his position, trying to stay warm and try to
forgive and forget.

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