Zykov's Despair: A Short Story
Zykov’s Despair
A nonexistent force pushes Zykov on the trail that leads to a decrepit, abandoned church with tombstones around its vicinity. He senses eyes watching him from a short distance even though the trees around him are clearly desolate with only the sound of wind whistling past the cold branches. He reaches the graveyard entrance and begins to question life.
“Why are we put on this Earth?... So we can get a job that we hate just to be able to survive with some luxury untill we die either by age or murder?... Nothing matters anymore!”.
A mysterious shadow figure slowly appears in front of Zykov and points at a nearby grave.
“Who are you!”
Zykov yells at the figure but it doesn't move and just keeps pointing. He gradually steps
toward the snowy tombstone. Orchids lay in front of it.
“Huh… Mom’s favorite flower.”
Zykov says with a slight smile while a tear drops from his cheek. Everything around him is colorless except the purple flower. He reads his mother’s tombstone.
“Yuliana Yevgenievich. 1971 - ▅▅
‘Live to love the ones closest to you.’”
The date of death is scratched out. His past flashes before his eyes. Zykov wakes up in his bed at home. He runs to his mother and little brother and hugs them both.
“What was that for?”
She asks with a grin. But he just stares back. The shadow figure disappears slowly from the back of the room.
A nonexistent force pushes Zykov on the trail that leads to a decrepit, abandoned church with tombstones around its vicinity. He senses eyes watching him from a short distance even though the trees around him are clearly desolate with only the sound of wind whistling past the cold branches. He reaches the graveyard entrance and begins to question life.
“Why are we put on this Earth?... So we can get a job that we hate just to be able to survive with some luxury untill we die either by age or murder?... Nothing matters anymore!”.
A mysterious shadow figure slowly appears in front of Zykov and points at a nearby grave.
“Who are you!”
Zykov yells at the figure but it doesn't move and just keeps pointing. He gradually steps
toward the snowy tombstone. Orchids lay in front of it.
“Huh… Mom’s favorite flower.”
Zykov says with a slight smile while a tear drops from his cheek. Everything around him is colorless except the purple flower. He reads his mother’s tombstone.
“Yuliana Yevgenievich. 1971 - ▅▅
‘Live to love the ones closest to you.’”
The date of death is scratched out. His past flashes before his eyes. Zykov wakes up in his bed at home. He runs to his mother and little brother and hugs them both.
“What was that for?”
She asks with a grin. But he just stares back. The shadow figure disappears slowly from the back of the room.