Part 4
Part 3
Part 2
It was not really sadness the feeling of which
he felt pervaded—rather of bewilderment. He had imagined it might
happen one day but, coming from probability to reality, had had a
devastating effect.
He felt happy after implementing that strategy with the feeling he had finally discovered the meaning of the life he was destined for. Nothing else seemed more important. But after descending from the upper layers of the spirit to return to reality, every good impression had dissolved to give way to a terrible feeling of disorientation.
Giovanni sighed and looked around him. Being a prisoner in a cell he himself had built was terribly ironic and frustrating.
It was the commander of the occupying forces who ordered its construction. So, Giovanni, mayor of that town, had proposed to a small company, the only one in the country, the realization of a work so different from the usual. The masons willingly agreed. In the wake of the devastating bombings, there were not many jobs left to devote themselves to except to move rubble and make the houses affected habitable again.
No one understood such a fury on the country except by mistake. It was not a sensible target but perhaps, as the fog dropped, the short distance from the railway could lead to confuse the tracks with the roadway. For this reason, the pilots did not hesitate to drop on the neighboring houses their unpleasant gifts. So, the inhabitants, when they began to hear the noise of approaching aircraft, contrary to habits, did not go to hide in the basements but left the house running away to the surrounding countryside. Between meadows and crops they felt more protected.
When the small company arrived for the construction of the solid small prison, Giovanni admonished them to respect the commander’s instructions. At the end he would have checked personally before giving consent to the payment.
Not being difficult to imagine the kind of people with the sad fate of occupying that cell, Giovanni asked a change be secretly made on the ceiling of the room.
“You should build a small, invisible opening” he asked the mason. “Like the one cleverly hidden in the wall of your house to hide the money saved.”
The mason blushed in amazement. “How do you know that change?”
Giovanni smiled. “The whole country knows about it. It’s no secret.”
In fact, the main occupation in those last years, in addition to trying to survive, was to confide the secrets of others.
“Can you build by hiding it so that no one can notice it?”
The mason nodded, smiling. “You can be sure!” he exclaimed resolutely. “If you don’t mention it, no one will be able to find out.”
So, outside, in the ceiling vault, in the middle of the bricks that constituted it, he prepared an iron handle able to remove some of them so well tied together that he could not identify them with all the others. The stucco of the same color as the cement confused them in the view.
He would never have imagined it was he himself who had to be imprisoned in that cell precisely in the days of liberation, of the joy and celebration for the country’s renewed desire to return to life.
“Supper is ready!” He heard the door open.
The policeman arrived by placing a tray with dinner on the table next to the cot.
“Tomorrow morning, before noon, you will be taken to the town hall to be judged. An American judge will decide your destiny!” smiled with irony as he looked at Giovanni. “I am sure, he will not have much to verify before pronouncing the death sentence.”
He felt happy after implementing that strategy with the feeling he had finally discovered the meaning of the life he was destined for. Nothing else seemed more important. But after descending from the upper layers of the spirit to return to reality, every good impression had dissolved to give way to a terrible feeling of disorientation.
Giovanni sighed and looked around him. Being a prisoner in a cell he himself had built was terribly ironic and frustrating.
It was the commander of the occupying forces who ordered its construction. So, Giovanni, mayor of that town, had proposed to a small company, the only one in the country, the realization of a work so different from the usual. The masons willingly agreed. In the wake of the devastating bombings, there were not many jobs left to devote themselves to except to move rubble and make the houses affected habitable again.
No one understood such a fury on the country except by mistake. It was not a sensible target but perhaps, as the fog dropped, the short distance from the railway could lead to confuse the tracks with the roadway. For this reason, the pilots did not hesitate to drop on the neighboring houses their unpleasant gifts. So, the inhabitants, when they began to hear the noise of approaching aircraft, contrary to habits, did not go to hide in the basements but left the house running away to the surrounding countryside. Between meadows and crops they felt more protected.
When the small company arrived for the construction of the solid small prison, Giovanni admonished them to respect the commander’s instructions. At the end he would have checked personally before giving consent to the payment.
Not being difficult to imagine the kind of people with the sad fate of occupying that cell, Giovanni asked a change be secretly made on the ceiling of the room.
“You should build a small, invisible opening” he asked the mason. “Like the one cleverly hidden in the wall of your house to hide the money saved.”
The mason blushed in amazement. “How do you know that change?”
Giovanni smiled. “The whole country knows about it. It’s no secret.”
In fact, the main occupation in those last years, in addition to trying to survive, was to confide the secrets of others.
“Can you build by hiding it so that no one can notice it?”
The mason nodded, smiling. “You can be sure!” he exclaimed resolutely. “If you don’t mention it, no one will be able to find out.”
So, outside, in the ceiling vault, in the middle of the bricks that constituted it, he prepared an iron handle able to remove some of them so well tied together that he could not identify them with all the others. The stucco of the same color as the cement confused them in the view.
He would never have imagined it was he himself who had to be imprisoned in that cell precisely in the days of liberation, of the joy and celebration for the country’s renewed desire to return to life.
“Supper is ready!” He heard the door open.
The policeman arrived by placing a tray with dinner on the table next to the cot.
“Tomorrow morning, before noon, you will be taken to the town hall to be judged. An American judge will decide your destiny!” smiled with irony as he looked at Giovanni. “I am sure, he will not have much to verify before pronouncing the death sentence.”
Honest Deception - Incipit
Part 1
Available to be published
Fairy Tales
Poems
Novels
Honest Deception
