18
Moscow,
1100 hours
The huge meeting room was full. There were at least a dozen men in uniforms there, some old, some young, with their assistants standing behind their bosses. They seemed to be talking about something really fun — see, men can gossip a little too — but a man with greyish hair wasn't. His assistant was standing behind him, not talking to anybody.
“Well, Lieutenant Colonel,” a middle aged man with black hair sitting in front of him said. “Looks like we failed to get the doll. Can we blame you?”
“Go ahead,” he said. “Georgia's mistake is, as well mine.”
But why, Georgia? I thought I know you. It's not like you'll do such an obvious mistake...
However, the brown haired man hid his anxiety and bit his lower lip as the mahogany double door that acted as the entrance into the meeting room flew open. A few men in police uniforms then got in, followed by a woman with long, wavy blonde hair, in a military uniform like the men's. Behind her was a police, walking with a blonde man in plain, white shirt handcuffed to the police. A surprised look quickly flashed on the faces of everyone in the room as the man looked up to everyone around him. The grey haired man stood up in surprise, but that wasn't something unusual as everyone's eyes were as huge as marbles.
“Sergei...”
No, this can't be true. Joseph...
“Everyone,” she said as a police closed the door behind her. “Sorry for not getting the doll. I traded it with this man, since I thought he would be much more valuable.”
~•~
RIIIING
A man picked up the phone and put it close to his ear.
“Yes, hello?”
He listened to it for a while, and then he nodded and put down the phone. He then looked up to the dark ceiling and let a few drops of tear rolled down his face.
“...Dimitri…”
~•~
“So that's how it is.”
The graveyard was gravely silent that day, just like the inhabitants. The gravestones were lined up tidily — some was shaped like a cross, some other like a box, and some other like a semicircle. It was practically empty that day...
Oh, wait, there was one visitor.
A woman with long, blonde wavy hair in a black coat. She was sitting in front of a cross-shaped gravestone, with a grim smile on her face. She was holding a small wooden doll in her hands, which she was looking at, before then she turned back to look at the gravestone. There were only a few words carved on the gravestone — the name of the person who was lying there and how long he lived.
Well, that's quite unbelievable,” she said as she looked at the doll again. “But well, maybe that has a bit of truth inside, who knows?”
She kept looking at the doll again, ignoring a pigeon that has perched on the gravestone. She looked up to it, then she stood up, scaring the bird away, she seemed to be a little surprised with the bird's reactions, and I quickly noticed how her eyes has saddened. She must've wanted to say hi to the bird, shouldn't it ran. She then put the doll down on the ground and walked away as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve of her coat.
Isn't living alone a bit sad?
That's right, after all, there's no way we cannot turn into a doll.
Humans are merely dolls, controlled by the strings of fate. Aren't humans pathetic? And they didn't even notice that, most of them.
This lady, how sad of her.
After losing her fiancé, her best friend, her own parents, family...
... Is fate always cruel?
The huge meeting room was full. There were at least a dozen men in uniforms there, some old, some young, with their assistants standing behind their bosses. They seemed to be talking about something really fun — see, men can gossip a little too — but a man with greyish hair wasn't. His assistant was standing behind him, not talking to anybody.
“Well, Lieutenant Colonel,” a middle aged man with black hair sitting in front of him said. “Looks like we failed to get the doll. Can we blame you?”
“Go ahead,” he said. “Georgia's mistake is, as well mine.”
But why, Georgia? I thought I know you. It's not like you'll do such an obvious mistake...
However, the brown haired man hid his anxiety and bit his lower lip as the mahogany double door that acted as the entrance into the meeting room flew open. A few men in police uniforms then got in, followed by a woman with long, wavy blonde hair, in a military uniform like the men's. Behind her was a police, walking with a blonde man in plain, white shirt handcuffed to the police. A surprised look quickly flashed on the faces of everyone in the room as the man looked up to everyone around him. The grey haired man stood up in surprise, but that wasn't something unusual as everyone's eyes were as huge as marbles.
“Sergei...”
No, this can't be true. Joseph...
“Everyone,” she said as a police closed the door behind her. “Sorry for not getting the doll. I traded it with this man, since I thought he would be much more valuable.”
~•~
RIIIING
A man picked up the phone and put it close to his ear.
“Yes, hello?”
He listened to it for a while, and then he nodded and put down the phone. He then looked up to the dark ceiling and let a few drops of tear rolled down his face.
“...Dimitri…”
~•~
“So that's how it is.”
The graveyard was gravely silent that day, just like the inhabitants. The gravestones were lined up tidily — some was shaped like a cross, some other like a box, and some other like a semicircle. It was practically empty that day...
Oh, wait, there was one visitor.
A woman with long, blonde wavy hair in a black coat. She was sitting in front of a cross-shaped gravestone, with a grim smile on her face. She was holding a small wooden doll in her hands, which she was looking at, before then she turned back to look at the gravestone. There were only a few words carved on the gravestone — the name of the person who was lying there and how long he lived.
Well, that's quite unbelievable,” she said as she looked at the doll again. “But well, maybe that has a bit of truth inside, who knows?”
She kept looking at the doll again, ignoring a pigeon that has perched on the gravestone. She looked up to it, then she stood up, scaring the bird away, she seemed to be a little surprised with the bird's reactions, and I quickly noticed how her eyes has saddened. She must've wanted to say hi to the bird, shouldn't it ran. She then put the doll down on the ground and walked away as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve of her coat.
Isn't living alone a bit sad?
That's right, after all, there's no way we cannot turn into a doll.
Humans are merely dolls, controlled by the strings of fate. Aren't humans pathetic? And they didn't even notice that, most of them.
This lady, how sad of her.
After losing her fiancé, her best friend, her own parents, family...
... Is fate always cruel?
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