Anatole didn't know why Mr. Sullivan, who gave him a mysterious feeling, brought him to this place.
In Anatole's view, this place was just a very ordinary house, but Sullivan asked him if he remembered anything after coming here.
Anatole knew that Sullivan was talking about his amnesia.
Anatole felt that he didn't forget anything, but whether it was Sullivan's words and deeds, some of the bishop's words, or even the sudden breaking of his cross, his rational analysis led him to the conclusion that he really forgot something.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Sullivan, I didn't remember anything." Anatole shook his head.
Sullivan nodded as if he had expected this. "It's not just you. The people who live nearby don't know who originally lived in this house."
Anatoli asked curiously, "Who used to live here?"
Sullivan said slowly, "It was a widower with a ten-year-old child. They should have just left for a few days, because some food in the refrigerator is still in the preservation period. But … "
Seeing that Sullivan paused here, Anatoli suddenly became more attentive.
Sullivan looked at the house in front of him at this time, seeming to be puzzled, "We can't find the whereabouts of the father and son … It's like they disappeared from the world."
Anatole frowned, "If they were just ordinary people, how could they hide from the eyes of the monastery?"
"I'm afraid they are not ordinary people." Sullivan stared at Anatole with great meaning.
Anatole didn't know whether it was an illusion or not.
At the moment when their eyes met, Anatole seemed to feel some slight … fear from Mr. Sullivan's eyes.
"Anatole, you need to go with me to the monastery's headquarters." Sullivan suddenly said.
But Anatole, who had just graduated from the monastery and had just been appointed here, was very puzzled.
Salivan said indifferently, "There are more restrictions on my body. I can't use any complete divine spells in this place. So I can only go to your monastery, where I can release my magic to my heart's content. "
Anatole was startled, because he heard Sullivan just say … 'your monastery'?
…
The two priests who had just left did not know that a pair of eyes had been watching them from the door of the house they had been observing all this time.
Luoqiu was sitting on a chair in front of the house. You Ye, who had been scrolling through his phone, was not here.
Of course, it wasn't that Luoqiu deliberately didn't want her to be here. She just woke up early to prepare breakfast and went to the supermarket to buy things.
Luoqiu was no longer in the hotel where he first lived. After Oleg and Antonio left Moscow quietly, they moved in here as a temporary place to stay.
It was not that the hotel apartment prepared by Miss Maid was not good.
However, he felt that it was more tasteful to stay here. For example, the rocking chair in the corridor in front of the door made him feel like he didn't want to move. The hotel apartment didn't seem to give him that kind of experience.
There was a remnant taste of happiness here when Kamala was still reborn.
"All of you."
After the two priests left completely, Luoqiu looked up at the morning sky. In human cognition, there seemed to be something in the sky.
But Luoqiu, who had seen the club's old account books, was very clear that there was nothing in it.
It existed, but it was not in the sky, nor on the ground.
"Heaven … still needs three more years."
Luoqiu stretched and stood up from the chair.
He put on the headset of his mobile phone, then gently kicked his shoes, jogging out of the road outside, along the road of the community, running all the way.
Such a morning was very suitable for jogging.
On the way, Luoqiu met a lot of people who also chose this time to jog on the road. People who liked sports seemed to be full of enthusiasm in their lives.
He met a lot of people who greeted him, men and women of all shapes and sizes. They might be enjoying the scenery along the road. In their eyes, these scenery were the colors of figures.
Luoqiu didn't know.
He had the concept of color, but to him, all colors seemed to be a single hue. They were mixed together in a messy manner, seemingly with a pattern, but also without a pattern.
The whole world seemed to have turned into a world of black and white.
However, he suddenly slowed down his pace and finally arrived in front of an old house.
It was a painting painted on the wall of someone's house … it would be more appropriate to call it graffiti.
The graffiti was not colorful, far from the bright graffiti on the street, which could attract people's attention. It was also not the kind of thing with a sense of irony, which could strongly express the graffiti owner's dissatisfaction with society, which could resonate with people in society.
It was just a simple sketch of a city on a brown wall using black lines. But this city was not drawn according to scale.
It was distorted, just like the reflection of the city in a mirror. The straight buildings became fat, and the neat roads became crooked.
Luoqiu reached out and touched the wall, then pinched his finger … it didn't look like it was drawn with charcoal, but more like it was drawn with charcoal.
The lines were rough.
"There was a period of time when I would pass by here every day."
Suddenly, someone spoke behind Luoqiu. Luoqiu turned his head and saw a man wearing a mask and a cap, dressed in running clothes.
It should be a middle-aged man.
He gave off a very robust feeling.
Luoqiu just glanced at it, then raised his head and took two steps back, so that he could take in the whole painting. The middle-aged man behind him also stopped here and looked up, quietly looking at the distorted Moscow on the wall.
He suddenly said, "This painting is not finished."
"Yes." Luoqiu nodded.
The man seemed to be a little regretful, "About a year ago? I started to run around here in the morning. Occasionally, I saw a young man painting here. It was in the winter, so I had a deep impression of him. His clothes were very thin, and his face was very bad, like a homeless person. But he didn't seem to feel cold at all. He was only holding a piece of charcoal. When I saw it, the painting had already drawn a building. "
He seemed to be telling a story that he rarely shared with people … a story that was shared with strangers.
"I observed him for several days. One day, I couldn't help but go up and ask him. " The man with a mask and a cap looked at Luoqiu at this time and seemed to smile, "I asked him why he didn't burn the charcoal in his hand to warm himself when it was so cold."
"What did he say?" Luoqiu asked casually.
"He didn't answer me." The man shook his head, "But he asked me a question: He said, do you have a dream?"
"Dream?" Luoqiu thought.
The man also nodded casually, "Yes, dream … To be honest, I don't know if I have a dream or not. But later, I would always take some time to run around here for a while. On one hand, it was to exercise, on the other hand … I think I probably wanted to see how long this guy could persist. "
He shook his head, "Unfortunately, this painting was not finished. I haven't seen him for a long time. However, I would still run here occasionally, thinking that maybe I would meet this guy again and take a good look at this unfinished painting. "
"It is fascinating." Luoqiu smiled.
The man also said softly, "Yes. Looking at this unfinished and distorted city, it always gives me a different feeling, as if it is always on guard against me … I can't let myself live in such a distorted city. Hehe, we talked about some boring topics. "
"Nothing." Luoqiu shook his head.
The man began to run. He suddenly reached out and patted Luoqiu's shoulder, "Young man, you are from China, right? I have been to this country several times, it's a very good country. But since you can speak Russian so well, you may consider staying here to develop yourself. Young man, there will always be opportunities. "
"It's the same wherever I stay." Luoqiu shook his head.
The man gave a start and didn't seem to care about the meaning of this sentence. He nodded and ran away. But not long after he ran out, a black car slowly followed behind him.
Luoqiu turned around and looked at the graffiti on the wall.
This was actually a painting painted by Urey. But he was now in the manor of the Typica Family … Perhaps he was greeting Miss Anna who was brought back last night.
"Dream."
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
