Fragile Shard 14. Beam and Storm.

Tim Nakhapetov
3 min readJan 17, 2024

Raisa Zinovievna was ill — incurable, no second chance. Death, the cold and gloomy presence she had sensed for quite some time, approached with a soft, catlike gait. Now the Dark Lady was so close that Raisa Zinovievna could feel her breath on her sparse gray hair, gathered in an eternal bun atop her head. Quiet, like the rustling of the autumn wind in a misty lowland, sweet with a slight admixture of rotting, akin to the fallen leaves resting on her dead husband’s grave.

Both were tired of waiting — Raisa, an elderly, frail woman with lung cancer, and her old friend, an eternal, skinny figure draped in black, clutching a metaphysical scythe in bony hands. Therefore, when one rainy morning, Raisa Zinovievna saw a message from the Ministry of Emergency Situations on her old Nokia, the decision came easily and painlessly.

She carefully prepared herself, donning her favorite worn cotton dress with faded polka dots, painting her lips with the brightest lipstick, and tying her hair into a bun. She took one last look at the dusty mirror and ventured out into the rainy St. Petersburg twilight.

A suburban minibus carried her closer to the old lighthouse as night descended. Without looking back, Raisa Zinovievna strolled slowly down the dark alley. The sound of the storm’s surf crashing against the stones of the bay grew stronger and soon engulfed everything around her.

In the blackness of the night, the dark sea was almost invisible, empty, and vast. Only the lighthouse faintly shone behind the half-naked trees, attempting to pierce through the veil of rain to reach Raisa Zinovievna. But it couldn’t.

Raisa struggled to climb onto a large, slippery stone and stood up, straightening herself as best she could, spreading her arms as if embracing the sea, the rain, and the darkness ahead.

Her old friend embraced her tightly, caressed her head, and gently loosened the tight bun atop her head. These embraces were brief.

In a matter of moments, there was only darkness, a wall of rain, the sound of a stormy sea, and a solitary, feeble beam from the lighthouse.

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“Fragile Shards: Whispers of Transience” is an evocative anthology that spans 15 years of the author’s writing journey. From mystical adventures to dark introspections, these tales traverse vivid landscapes, offering a captivating glimpse into the ever-changing tapestry of human emotions and perceptions. Each story is a unique shard, reflecting the complexity of life’s experiences and the resilience of hope.

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Tim Nakhapetov
Tim Nakhapetov

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