Nobody knew where he had gone.
It has also been observed, he was not at his usual place any more, something abnormal had taken place, no possiblity to update some deepened readings about it, nobody could not have thought further forward in any event, and it could have passed for a banal fact, why not also natural, and some were awaiting his return, as if nothing had happened , as somebody wishes summer sun, each year more impatient after bad season.
Because one day, it had become, like an obviousness which anybody would not like to see, yes, thus, suddenly, nobody yet did not really succeed to manage the integration of that incongruous thing. But it was completely undoubted that it had occurred, like a sudden skid in an ambiguous turning, a hitch in the destiny crossroads, that was a strange feeling like someone thumbing his nose at the usual understanding of life.
In any case, that proceeded, for Mr Nosson at least , from a decision, in fact, anybody who was trying to be sincere, including Mister Norton, had really never tagged there a real desire, all that fact became at one time had given in its nudity, of one inevitable fact, one unstoppable lighting about the destiny word signification.
First of all, it should be recognized that this big surprise had appeared in one simple fact, lost in the banal routines of daily life.
He had suffered from a stuffy nose all the afternoon, and the chapped nostrils had passably irritated him, at the evening remainder. He had lain down, even more tired than usually, he felt so bad, a little feverish, that was not so important at any time, but, in the actual position of the disordered economy states, with those effects more underhand than ever, it proved nevertheless, that it had become quite simply too much for him. That had begun; stupidly; with a bad cold, undoubtedly nothing moreover, some noises of the wheels squeakings and grinding halt were jolting all inside his head.
He didn’t gain some clear successes to string the ideas together, and in any directions, that have succeeded to rest him.
In all manner, he couldn't hope any more, thereby he had decided; that he would not be formally sentenced for several months in that way, he had relinquished himself, and his forces have migrated, similar to some whistlings from a pressure cooker. He felt permanently nauseated, the insidious repulsion in regard to all things had become the big idea which continued to maintain some state of consistency in his shaken shivers body.
He used to interiorize events, but as it clearly had appeared on this particular case, it was only a little clumsy manner to get some time surplus, and an overabundance of survival, despite everything.
At the firts time, he had thought, that was nothing so importantt to be reported, he didn’t want to look at the dark side of the things, in the past, he often had seen stars, and he was only expecting the much more serious way, because of one thought of the world state and his contemporaries usual anguish, from a general point of view.
In short, he was providing the best possible relativization scenario.
He had tried to make an hot toddy, the following day he had tested the well packed hot wines,
he had imagined to cough and splutter at his self-esteem to drive out the evil, in looking to recover the taste from his childhood, and to fly in the magic breath of his father, dreaming on confined bed memories of youth, but it was unavoidable, he was trembling all over, softly but without any restrictions, and the doctor had not produced miracles with the last pharmaceutical must in the form of one tonic undoubtedly too complicated to be able to treat the gravity of one so easy problem.
The meetings of the psychoanalysis didn't give some better suggestions, permanently it appeared that he was just telling the life story of someone else, and it only was, for him, a great pleasure to invent itself, he never had tought to try to carry out an intimate introspection. Consequently, the tiredness seemed to have gained the part, and to be itself generalized in his whole body, the weariness didn’t let himself to delude with any illusions, the sleeping had become his only effective act of résistance…
Two days later, he didn't go to work. somewhere he was lonely at the bottom, and unstuck in time, some one could have thought, that it was for him some long-awaited occasion of hope and pride, but to be able to say something judicious of it, altogether, it would have been necessary to be tempted to share some idea of its intimacy, and the moments of sensibles friendships just a little bit longer than usual.
That was not so easy, at the same time he used to appear wild and obstinated, he always liked the arrangement, but when all was perfectly aligned, he felt no more hope. He was only troubled by the living impossibility, somebody used always to stay there, just to abuse the harmonious elements decoration, and his pleasure was staying in a statu quo, it was quite a double pleasure in this particular way to escape without disappearing completely.
It's all true, that the least nick on the plate edge, in certain circumstances, could go until to make him sick.
Then, some share, the imagination became easier than the validation in one way or another, which seemed one little too prosaic meaning, and there were some of the good reasons which pushed him to try to capture some piece of drowsiness art in more high degree of refinement.
At the same way, that used to be only one note, and sometimes with its costs, only one appearance lifestyle, generally, in the proved fact, he used to sleep only with one eye open.
One could say that friends didn't miss him, it had always sought to be surrounded by people, he feared over all the feeling of exclusion.
It wasn't any less crazy at home, he was unable to cope with the simple feeling of being involved in pure loneliness moments, and a little bit more each day. Each new hour had hold for some worries, the time literally seemed to slip through his fingers.
If some people could not say that he feared death, some could not say either, that it left him insensitive, nor even quiet.
The time escape distressed him, sometimes more than one reason, that proceeded of the tetanization of the whole vital bodie, which led it to institute a statute quo mental guard, a kind of ankylosis of attitudes which carried sometimes to the nonchalance, which was not charmless.
He was a very sensitive delicate man, the tears could easy have flown behind the dusky curve of his lashes, in a natural way, and without reserve, at the evocation of some human tragedies.
He could have also some very hard derisive and arrogant attitudes of self-righteousness.
On certain subjects, he often prefered to keep silent. That could have appeared for the prudence, or sometimes the judicious decency, that remained to be defined according to the circumstances and the beings of meetings.
He truly had never been able to forget the survival instruction, the encouragement to be melted in the landscape, just to remain, a mode of some passing places, seeking to avoid more than to cut down, a play game in the duration, characterized by the partculier use of the instinct for self-preservation.
In fact, sometimes, he had stayed thinking one thing and quite its contrary at the same time.
He definitely looked like an artist, especially when he stood harmoniously taking the accents of the foreign languages which he used to spoke easily, and when he decided to express himself, one should have realized, that he skilfully handled the art of the synthesis.
His way of life was much more complex than the visual appearances. At first glance, and there, he had remained rather basic, also in some of his attitudes, undoubtedly because of a pragmatic measurement of simplification.
Nobody, among his close relations, never seemed to have taken time to probe him into his subsoils, perhaps even not itself also, probably some one never had dared, or nobody had found the taste of it, perhaps someone had taken fear, or finally why not him also ?.
He often closed the eyes, perhaps because of only one pleasant disguised manner to exist, just to leave fields free to the unconscious in the appeasing of some drives to let appear the back desire…
Someone could have noted that there was no more traces in Mr Nosson of any new point of some locatable revolt, nor even a glance of incomprehension on the world and people.
Generally what only persisted was a wide-eyed look, combined at one little bitterness on the corner of the lips, and the propention to emulously taste the fattiest foods of all the Central Europe dreams, in the forms of compensatory appearances.
He had always had a very rare and good appetite ability, he was rather happy to be able to eat hours during, almost of all, except perhaps for the roquefort cheese and the foods that have passed the use-by-date, a restrictive rule very important for him. He used to expose himself naive, certainly not always, but all the same, someone friendly could easily understand a little why it was recurring in his remarks.
However, what he liked for the best, was just when he succeeded in not scratching the things surface. Who can consider all the dimension of the suffering with certain discovery, which could be observed through the slit of the curiosity as a signal spirit?.
All in all, he feared to crease some alive fabric, by drawing the curtains in a clumsy way, at the windows of the existence, risking a disconnecting, considered equal to a judgment, reason according to which he carefully avoided any put in abyss, trying to escape, thus, at the height of the anguish. He was not less avid to know a lot of things, the people life, and the women lives especially used to fascinate him very well.
Being quarantined for such a disease, he would have to succeed in always remaining, like a small output on this path, but in fact, because of the knowlege that it could not face the effort any more, he thought just ahead.
He really felt, he didn't know why, more tired than usually, the fold was taken, anything did not succeed to smooth the costume out, he had never loved the dyers at all, he didn't support the use of the steam press. At home, he spent his time sleeping, and he was just like a fish out of water, exhausted.
Personal provocative projects, increasingly were being rare and secret. Too much serious and applied, by some singular and monotonous practice, he started to doubt all, disarmed by the ambient disorganization reign around him.
Younger, when it took desires of takes-off to him, it was always for having some musical runnings away, some bright escapades of female blazes. Events of his more beautiful escapes, all was balanced in the bottom of the large book, by a general stampede, a dive in the immoderate taste of lazes sea.
The evasions, hardly last but not least, he was just playing for time.., the serious backings were rare. The arranged life course, the middle-class obligations, the ordinary life quickly took their rights of the reinsurance, once again, with the excuse, which was perhaps not a good one, to wonder, permanently : Was he quite responsible for something?
What direction will someone take and who will we draft in the way?
The loophole idea even had appeared to him, as a long time to offer only one poor ridiculous subterfuge, under many aspects, inaugurating a malicious surplus of some tirednesses and complications, quite useless. One could say, that he was at the same time an idealistic and fatalistic man, he particularly snuffed the philosophy of Schopenhauer.
The only difference can be seen there, following the comparison of the example of the known choices of the philosopher : in the most important life directions, he did not love the dogs so much, and he had never thought to test in favour of one unspecified worthy representing canine race.
He had never been able to be resigned to choose, he left the river of the time to run the answers to his place.
Each day, the advisors in the indiscretions, showed that it was realy an upside-down world. And with these new signals of the imminent alarm, increasingly the most of his headaches. Nothing had survived, other than the rumours, and the background noises, and the disclosures of the movements of one world increased into the systemic state of crisis, which proved to be deep. Someone should have kept someting in his mind, to make the bare world,
Within sight of the ambient disorder extent, nobody could have managed the good stick, in any dimensions and reasonable magnitude orders, the imaginative capacities level of Mr Nosson was out of order, for a certain time, he was exceeded by the events. The test did not seem to be acted in some human dimension play without making great setting for the inordinate show.
Some people could have appeared to have struggled in hope to maintain their job in life opportunity, and they could have found here, some unexpected source of hopes.
Crudely, many others continued, until the end, to operate some business, mistrusting all the predictions of a nearest flood.
He thought that he should not be able to succeed any more, he planed on going out on short term disability, without effect.
Mr Nosson, only saw the cruel reflection of the gong at the entrance of the boxing club, for him, his time was getting short, just a question of crucial choice.
Each day, some little new white bugs everywhere in the world, some one intended to say that it became more and more question of the great deal on civilisation travel, at the very least, some one should soon take the time to prepare himself, at some serious metamorphosis.
All seemed to escape before him!.
It was urgent to run away, he could not become more aggressive each day to avoid sinking in the stagnation, he did not succeed in validating, in any way, it was leaking this cruel need to evolve increasingly tended on the wire, in some acrobaties without nets, he did not support this invading nuisance, in short the feeling of the ground which comes to be concealed under the feet, and thus, he lost any personal balance to try to escape from the general catastrophe.
But, how to flee when in fact, the whole universe suddenly stands out to sea?
How to escape and avoid the aspiration into the desire black hole?
The fateful moments of the great turning have been profiled, at the clock dial, and Mr Nosson, who had always liked to collect watches, however, saw this arrival, with a kind of fear, the blazing hour arrival, and even all the discursive time effects, and the new avoidance, together reunited in one ultime big addition effect.
Only one ticket, no roundtrip, nor couple reduction, it was just a single-handed yachtsman race against time.
Mr Nosson seemed to have the intimate pulse touch of the world in his fingers extremity.
By his involved disappearing, each day a little more, he finally succeeded into the slipping escape, making the end date, by the eye of the needle, and packed up, at the trotter speed in the temporal mechanics.
Time has run out, thus, and with it, the vital space sketch of his personal minimal life testimony. Nobody knew about it.
Nobody had dared to come to a conclusion about the advance state of the things.
Some were questioned, while others tried to forget, because of the pragmatic knowlege, that one gains nothing on the Nature opposition benches.
Nevertheless every one was well annoyed by all that.
Owing to his disparition, the heaps of things remained outstanding, the waiting room was full, and the relative suffering at the time of pause, seemed to be spread out ad infinitum, in the symphony of the questioning stage, and the reasons why and how.
Any attempt at the things photography, any test of the comprehension remained undecided, and nothing should succeed to clarify this last amazing feat in its results.
The escape was too beautiful, too fantastic, the evasion perhaps didn't be measurable in the actual position of the current knowledge.
Nobody knew where he had gone.
