Falling On A Surface

Chapter 1

One day, François Goergen went to the shop to buy some flower pots. Why did he need new flower pots? For now, he was going to buy them because he felt like he had few, very few. Then maybe he would put new flowers in there. He had a lot in his garden, although not many species.

When he saw the seller, he asked him which pot would be the best to pick, in his opinion. The seller showed him a very peculiar pot, one with ancient signs drawn on it.

"I think it's interesting", François said, "I don't understand anything about those symbols, but my girlfriend knows some people who do".

"Great!" the seller said. "So are you taking it?"

"Yes, of course I am taking it".

"Okay, here you are".

After taking this pot, François asked the seller why, in his opinion, everyone always talks about big things, however far they tend to be, while little things are not even taken into consideration. The seller replied that maybe people have other things on their minds and are not interested in much, which is quite normal.

Having heard their conversation, a thirty-year-old woman approached François. She had black hair and a jacket of the same color. She asked him:

"Sorry to bother you, I usually stay away from other people's conversations, but this one did interest me. Have you just said that no one thinks about things which hardly have any value... I mean, things which have less value than usual?"

This woman was a foreigner: her name was Irene López and she came from Spain, which could be heard in the way she pronounced certain words. François saw her was the first time, but they weren't total strangers.

"Well, I didn't really mean that", François answered, "I meant that most people always remember what they are used to, while for all the rest, if they see or hear it, they forget it right away".

"Not everyone does, François", Irene replied, "some people are interested in all. Those who you are talking about are made like that and nothing can be done, there's no way to change them".

François started fearing Irene: how could she know his name? But he decided not to worry and let her speak on.

"It's quite clear that", she continued, "when someone very important, very influential, slides down and breaks his leg", and in that moment she went elsewhere, François followed her, "everyone talks about this until someone just as influential. Those who judge him positively, say it was an accident that shouldn't have occurred. Those who hate him, and there's a lot usually, start cursing him, but both are interested, as you say, and you're right. Maybe someone of those who hate him set this trap, and it doesn't matter who it was. Maybe he set his trap himself, or asked someone to set it, in order to get some attention".

"But why would he get attention that way?"

"That's another aspect", Irene continued, "nowadays, if someone does something good, nobody's interested. But what I mean is that this someone isn't very known and doesn't even want to be, do you really think that nobody cares? Maybe most people don't, nevertheless, for example, when someone gets hit by a car, it's clear that his friends want to know how he feels. And they can as well tell the whole thing to some friend of theirs that the victim doesn't know, and then..."

"You were hit by a car?" François asked.

"Why, no", she replied laughing, "but when I was a little girl, much worse things would occur to me, or better, depending on each one's personal view. And what are you going to do tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? I have something to do".

"Like?" Irene insisted.

"Like, I'm going to my friend's wedding. I didn't want to go, not because I'm not interested in him, but because I'm not a fan of those events, unless they concern me directly, but his girlfriend and himself wanted me to be there at all cost".

Irene took out from her bag some cards that she always had with her, put four of them on a table and, after looking at them, said:

"Tomorrow you will indeed go to your friend's wedding, but you won't get there".

"Why? What do you mean I won't get there?"

"I mean", Irene answered, "that it will rain very harshly. When your car resumes working, not only will your friend be married, he'll even have returned home".

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what you heard".

"If that's the truth, I cannot believe it".

"If you don't want to believe me, just don't", Irene went on, without getting angered, "but then don't complain, because if someone like you complains, this leads to negative consequences".

"What kind of consequences?"

"I cannot tell you, but be sure that a lot of things will happen to you. And it's not because you have done something I don't like it, they just will, because that's life".

"Because that's my life, you mean?"

"Not only. That's everyone's life".

"But there are people who live happily".

"Those who live happily", Irene explained, "only feel like they do, because they don't think about tomorrow, and if something happens to them, they never accept it".

"For example?"

"I cannot tell you now. But if one could be happy, there would never have been any wars, don't you think?"

"I cannot say anything. I don't have the right knowledge".

"But if you don't have the right knowledge, how can you expect things to go well?"

"I can't say anything about this either. The only thing I'm sure about is that..."

"Nobody can be sure about anything", Irene interrupted him, "how can anyone be sure? Anything might change without anyone noticing it, and when they do notice it, it's too late".

"But one can plan things before doing them, can't they?"

"They can, of course", López agreed, "the problem is that some people plan things several weeks or even months before doing that, thinking they are going to be safer, but they are mistaken".

François didn't know what to answer, and in addition to that, he was running out of time. Therefore, he told her:

"Sorry, everything you're telling me is very interesting, of course, but I have to go".

"Okay, go, and be careful, because soon you will find out that what I told you is the truth. And don't get surprised if you get home with a spot of blood on your arm. By the way, here's my card", and she showed him her fortune teller card, with first and last names, date and place of birth, and other information on it.

Then François returned to where he had been, paid for the flower pot and took it.

"So she's a fortune teller", he was thinking on his way, "now I can understand everything. Now I understand why she knows more than usual and why she's concerned that much. Yes, she might seem crazy, but I think she's very good. The only thing I don't understand is: why does she say I'm going to get into danger? I experienced such things hundreds of times, that's right, but I always managed to get out, or someone rescued me. I don't think it's going to be that worse this time".

Suddenly, a stranger approached him, caught him and took his pot with such a speed and strength that it broke into pieces.

"You're a rascal!" François shouted. "I have been looking for this pot for weeks, today I have finally found it and gave away a sum that normally I wouldn't spend, and you broke it!"

"If you talk, I will break your arm! Do you want me to?"

The two of them started arguing. François pushed the man who broke his pot and the man pushed François. They went on until something red appeared on François's arm. He got angered and went away, swearing he would get his revenge. It would be hard, he admitted that, but he would get his revenge. And he would do so as soon as he could.