The next night Lina returned to the City.
This time it was unusually quiet.
There was no market.
There were no people.
Only a long stone street.
At its end stood a house.
Small.
Cozy.
Warm light glowed in the windows.
Smoke rose from the chimney.
Lavender grew by the door.
Everything felt so peaceful that Lina momentarily forgot she was in a dream.
She came closer.
The door opened on its own.
Inside it smelled of bread.
And cinnamon.
Tea steamed on the table.
A fire burned in the corner.
A large soft armchair stood as if it had been waiting just for her.
– Come in.
The voice was calm.
Warm.
A man sat at the table.
Simply dressed.
Neat.
Middle-aged.
His face was so pleasant that you’d forget it the moment you turned away.
Only the smile stayed in your memory.
– I’ve been waiting for you.
– Who are you?
– A friend.
He gestured toward the empty armchair.
– Sit down.
Lina hesitated a little.
Then sat.
The chair was extraordinarily comfortable.
She didn’t even notice herself relaxing.
– Tea?
– Thank you.
A cup was already sitting in front of her.
As if it had appeared on its own.
– You’re tired.
– A little.
– No.
The man shook his head.
– Very tired.
Lina said nothing.
He was right.
Lately she’d hardly slept.
Working.
Writing.
Pondering.
The dreams exhausted her more than the work did.
– You know…
The man said.
– People vastly overestimate effort.
– What do you mean?
– They think that anything worthwhile has to be hard.
But what if it isn’t?
He stood up.
Walked over to a shelf.
Picked up a small hourglass.
Turned it over.
The sand slowly began to fall.
– Do you know what steals the most lives?
– Wars?
– Illness?
– Fear?
The man smiled.
– Tomorrow.
He set the hourglass on the table.
– People never say:
“I give up on my dream.”
They say:
“I’ll start tomorrow.”
He poured himself some tea.
– Want to write a book?
Tomorrow.
– Want to tell the truth?
Tomorrow.
– Want to change your life?
Tomorrow.
– Just want to rest today?
One more day.
Lina felt a strange unease.
– You know a lot about me.
– I know about everyone.
The man leaned back.
– Tell me.
Why rush?
You’re still young.
You have time.
Rest.
Think it over.
Prepare.
When you’re ready…
You’ll begin.
Lina said nothing.
His words sounded perfectly logical.
Even wise.
She remembered every time she herself had said this to her patients.
“Give yourself time.”
“Don’t rush.”
“Rest.”
– And what’s wrong with resting?
She asked.
– Nothing.
The man smiled.
– I never said rest was evil.
He leaned in closer.
– I’m only suggesting…
That you don’t need to suffer.
– Suffering isn’t a virtue.
– I agree.
– Then what do you want?
For the first time his smile widened a little.
– For you to choose the easiest path.
The room grew even warmer.
The fire crackled.
Her eyes kept drifting shut on their own.
Lina felt a heaviness in her body.
It felt good.
Very good.
She hadn’t felt this calm in a long time.
– You see?
The man said quietly.
– There’s nothing left to prove.
Nothing left to fight for.
Nothing left to search for.
Just be.
Lina looked at the fire.
The flames danced slowly.
Hypnotically.
She remembered her notebook.
It had stayed at home.
She remembered the book she had wanted to start writing.
She thought:
“It can wait.”
She remembered the patient notes.
“Tomorrow.”
She remembered the Bone Collector.
“Next week.”
She closed her eyes.
And for the first time thought…
That maybe nothing more was needed.
Suddenly something clicked.
Very quietly.
Lina looked at the hourglass.
The sand had stopped falling.
It was rising upward.
As if time were flowing backward.
She looked up.
The man was still smiling.
Only now did she notice.
His cup was full.
But he had never once drunk from it.
Logs burned in the fireplace.
But they never burned down.
Bread lay on the table.
It was steaming.
Yet it never cooled.
Everything in this room was frozen.
Comfortable.
Warm.
And…
Completely lifeless.
– How long have you lived here?
Lina asked.
– I don’t know.
– Do a lot of people come?
– Almost everyone.
– And they leave?
For the first time the man didn’t answer.
Lina stood up.
The armchair seemed reluctant to release her.
Her body felt heavier.
Every step required effort.
– Where are you going?
The calm voice sounded from behind her.
– Onward.
– To what end?
– I don’t know.
– Then why bother?
Everything is right here, after all.
Warmth.
Peace.
Rest.
No one will hurt you.
No one will demand anything of you.
No one will disappoint you.
Lina stopped at the door.
Her hand was already on the frame.
– And what’s beyond it?
She asked.
The man said nothing.
– You know, don’t you.
He was still smiling.
– Out there you’ll have to grow.
Lina looked back.
For the first time she saw his eyes.
They were empty.
Not angry.
Not cruel.
Just…
Without any desire in them.
Like the eyes of someone who had long ago stopped moving forward.
– What are you?
She asked.
The man shrugged lightly.
– I take nothing from anyone.
I only let people stay…
Wherever is most comfortable for them.
When Lina opened the door, a cold wind blew in from beyond it.
She stepped outside.
The moment the door closed, the house vanished.
Only an empty field remained.
And a single withered tree.
Hundreds of fruits hung from its branches.
All of them were perfectly healthy.
But not a single one was ripe.
She woke up before dawn.
She lay in the dark for a long time.
One sentence kept circling in her mind.
Not the one she’d heard in the dream.
A different one.
The one she had told herself hundreds of times.
“I’ll start on Monday.”
“When I have more time.”
“When I’m ready.”
She sat down at the desk.
Opened the black notebook.
And wrote:
Evil doesn’t always come with pain.
After a long pause, one more line appeared.
Sometimes it comes with a soft armchair, warm tea, and the promise that it doesn’t have to be today.