Original subtitles

Odessa Film Studio 1987

Based on the story by S. Maugham "The Letter"

CHANGE OF FORTUNE

Written an directed by Kira Muratova

And there it is. Woken by an impudent kiss.

Woken by an impudent kiss.

You wanted to ask for my advice about a present.

I don't want to anymore.

You wanted to give your husband a rifle.

I don't want to anymore.

So you don't want any advice.

No, I don't.

You don't want to ask for advice or to give him a gun?

My husband left me a revolver.

If you touch me...

...I can kill you.

If you don't leave.

Why are you talking about a revolver?

Shall I talk about a rifle instead?

I don't understand why you're being so overfamiliar with me?

You understand.

You understand everything.

You know it. You feel it.

You love torturing me.

I can't stand it anymore.

It's unbearable.

My husband left me a revolver. I can kill you!

Why are you talking about a revolver?

Shall I talk about a rifle instead?

I don't understand!

Why are you being so overfamiliar?

No - you understand. You understand everything.

You love to pretend. You love torturing me.

I can't stand it anymore. It's unbearable.

How can it be unbearable if you have to bear it?

I really am tolerating your rude, intolerable, laughable rubbish.

You just don't want to confess it, that's why...

And not because you have to bear something unbearable.

You wanted to ask for my advice about a present.

I don't want to anymore.

You wanted to give your husband a rifle.

I don't want to anymore.

You don't want my advice?

No, I don't.

You don't want advice or to give him a gun?

A present?

I don't want to anymore.

You wanted to give your husband a rifle.

I don't want to anymore.

You don't want advice.

No, I don't.

Advice or to give a gun?

My husband left me a revolver.

And if you touch me...

I can kill you.

If you don't leave.

Why do you talk about the revolver?

Shall I talk about the rifle?

I don't understand why you're being overfamiliar.

No - you understand.

You understand everything.

You love to pretend.

You love torturing me.

I can't stand it any longer.

It's unbearable.

You wanted me advice about a present, a rifle.

Believe it or not, I know a man who sells guns.

Which is a remarkable occurrence. Even a lucky one.

Because it is a rarity and a beauty to be found in an antique shop.

A rifle, totally mint condition. As if it was crafted yesterday.

Your husband will be happy with a real gift, not just any old thing.

I don't want one.

What don't you want? Advice from me or to give him a present?

I don't want to.

Buy a gift or my advice?

Good morning. Can I bring you tea?

How did you sleep?

Don't come in. I'm washing my face.

You've been allowed to meet your husband again?

You're going for a walk with him in the yard.

I'm very glad. We're all very glad for you both.

Justice is restored.

You're getting out of here soon.

And you won't even want to say hello to us then.

No - it's just that I'm not dressed yet.

I'll dress and then we'll talk.

I'll be happy to.

Good. As you say.

I'll be very happy to as well.

Thank you, thank you.

I would have done this place up a bit.

The whole works!

That jug you're currently using -

it's 100 years old!

Can you see through walls?

I know how it sounds - pardon me.

Everything here is ancient.

They don't give us any money.

Why does everything in prison have to be unpleasant?

But it's not about that.

It's about the concept of the prison itself.

Thank you, thank you. I like it here.

You're kind

and the jug is wonderful.

I hate you. Let me go.

You're my beloved.

I hate you. Let me go.

You're my beloved.

There's a switch somewhere. Turn on the light.

It's upstairs. Should have done it up there. No need to pretend.

There should be a switch here too!

You wanted to ask for my advice about a present.

I don't want to anymore.

You wanted to give your husband a rifle.

I don't want to anymore.

You don't want advice?

No, I don't.

Advice or the present?

We are all civilised people,

white people.

We should be friends.

We should have solidarity.

I can't stand aboriginals.

For me, only a white woman is a woman.

I think my replacement is coming.

His footsteps.

I must have misheard.

We are all civilised people,

white people.

We should be friends.

We should have solidarity.

I can't stand aboriginals.

Only a white woman is a woman.

They're white too, strictly speaking, but kind of yellowish.

You're a real joy for us.

A white woman in prison.

I've been here many years.

I'm unlucky, left here, for many years.

I forget how many.

My conscience forgets in defence.

It hides my sub-conscience so I don't freak out.

I'm a healthy specimen.

My replacement is strict,

with an honest character.

We all need to be strong here.

We have a murderer here.

A real murderer.

But he's a white man.

That's the main thing, isn't it?

We should all help each other.

Don't you agree?

Yes.

I hope you know what I mean.

Happiness unites.

All of us here are unhappy.

But we're people.

We shouldn't show our unhappiness.

Be strong.

I just couldn't have dreamt it.

That I would see a white woman,

so close.

Honourable, innocent, pure lady.

Here, it's easy to lose face.

Habits save us.

Some light entertainment for the lady.

But first, there's news.

Tomorrow!

We would have liked today but... it didn't dry.

We're moving you to a new, better space.

It's wet and cold here for you, and anyway...

Tomorrow the paint on the walls will have completely dried.

We have some interesting specimens here.

They're harmless. They'll entertain you.

Surprises, a concert... and we're here, close by.

They're looking at you like that simply because they find you interesting.

Nice to meet you.

A fantastic facial exercise - watch!

You rub your temples.

Pull your ears back.

Lift them up and tense the back of your head.

Tense your face.

And, as far as you can...

pull apart...

your eyes!

Tighten the muscles around your nose and turn...

...your top lip onto your nose.

Put out your bottom lip.

These exercises are very useful.

Then, like this. This way, that way...

...this way, that way...

Forwards, backwards, forwards, backwards.

Back and forth, back and forth.

These exercises are very useful.

It takes away the tiredness from body and soul.

...disperses any obsessive thoughts.

Very helpful exercises.

Having completed this series, you may move on to training...

your ability to see this wonderful light

emerging from the eternal ideal.

Oh, I almost forgot

Here, some more exercises

Move your scalp, back and forth

Back and forth, back and forth...

After, you kind of roll around the air in your mouth...

You hang a voluptuous weight under your chin...

and exist with it.

These are very useful exercises for women.

They need to be done just three times a day.

Let's go, let's go, let's go.

Quickly, quickly, quickly.

Is it pestering you?

No!

I understand you.

I've seen enough.

My interest for exotics things is no bigger than my interest for pets.

And there's the other side of the coin

things which are likeable upon first glance.

And turn out to be, upon second glance, disgusting.

I heard that your husband is busy asking permission for you to embroider.

To crochet.

Let him get it.

You can do it, as long as the main guard doesn't see.

He's a hard-working, loyal man

who has managed to prove himself very well.

But each has their limits.

Each in their own way.

You can't wrestle with the big picture. Do you understand?

How fun it is in prison.

It's a mockery.

It's a mockery.

- Mockery. - It's a mockery.

Pull yourself together!

- It's nothing, I'm holding on. - Did you see your wife today?

No. The date is tomorrow. What an indignity that she's in prison.

I'm thinking it was simply necessary.

She thinks the same.

At least, that's what she says.

I don't know if that's what she really thinks, the poor thing.

Couldn't they let her out on bail?

It's a very serious accusation.

To hell with their accusations!

In her place, every respectable woman would do the same thing.

However, 9 out of 10 would not have the guts to go through with it.

If I ever bumped into this character, I'd wring his neck.

Everyone is one your side! Nobody is thinking of defending him.

- You would do the same. - We'll get your wife out.

I'm certain that both the judge and jury will

find her innocent before the trial begins.

They really didn't have to put her behind bars.

But putting the poor girl through a trial after all that she's been through.

Every single person I meet says that she did the right thing.

Holding her in prison for so much time is inhumane.

But the law is the law.

Inhumane.

But don't forget that she confessed to the murder.

It's a big misfortune. I feel for you both.

- It's not about me. Bloody hell. - But there has been a murder.

(Mr. Lawyer!)

and this inevitably leads to a trial.

(Mr. Lawyer!)

In your opinion, getting rid of a poisonous creature is murder.

She shot him like a crazed dog.

Well, okay, she did shoot him like a crazed dog.

- It's inhumane. - Let's just stop wasting time.

As your lawyer, it's my obligation to point out one detail to you.

If your wife had shot him once, there wouldn't be any problems with the case.

What she did is... shoot him six times!

(Mr. Lawyer!)

Don't you think it's strange that wild tribes exist who eat soil?

Mainly they like to eat oily clay with a strong smell.

It's from the same client. She killed her husband with a kitchen knife.

They make doughballs from clay.

Imagine? The whole family is making them and it's a celebration for them.

And one person eats one and a half pounds of clay.

Can you imagine?

She calls me to tell me...

Listen, even if there's plenty fish, they still eat clay.

Imagine, this little shit killed her husband with a kitchen knife.

The biggest tribe known to eat clay are called the Tamaki.

I'm afraid you'll have to wait a few moments longer.

Do you get it? She's in love with me.

Listen, Americans have studied them.

They found out...

In terms of health, there's no kind of harm caused.

Every one of them, one and a half pounds! Imagine!

Well then. As your lawyer, it's my obligation to point out one detail to you.

This detail causes some confusion.

If your wife had shot him once, there wouldn't be any problems with the case.

Unfortunately she shot six times.

She explained it all.

Anyone would do the same. Anyone.

It's possibly and from my point of view, quite truthful.

But you always need to put yourself in the shoes of another.

If I was a prosecutor, I'd pay attention to this.

What are you laughing at?

You're looking at me, thinking...

...this Philip isn't a bad guy but, alas, not the brightest.

Believe me, it's really important.

I only presumed I needed to remind you about it.

There's not long to wait.

I recommend that, when all of this is over...

...go off somewhere, relax.

It's not easy to go through this.

Even when you're sure the outcome will be positive.

So, a break will be very beneficial for both of you.

I'll need more of a rest.

And her, she's a stoic woman.

Yes, a rare kind of self-containment.

From the day of her arrest, we've rarely spoken.

And although we're trying to make it easier for her

...she's still locked up.

She'll go to court. It wouldn't be surprising if she lost her nerves.

And now she's always so reserved, her hair is so neat...

- Absolutely. - Sometimes she's even laughing at some

of the things she has to put up with.

Only those wonderfully educated women may take it all in their stride.

It surprises me because I hadn't noticed her sense of humour. You live and learn.

She's never changed what she said in her statement.

Not even the tiniest details.

Back then, just after the tragedy, she spoke just as calmly as she does now.

She recalled the events consistently.

...with an air of indifference.

No, why are you saying that she doesn't have a sense of humour?

She's got it all. And all so balanced, did you notice?

She's not tall, though not short either. But just that middle height.

They refused to drink our coffee.

It was only her who drank it out of politeness.

Why did you let them all in? Only the husband should visit.

It's her friends. Have you forgotten? You were the one who allowed it.

Indeed I did. Anyway, who brewed this coffee? It's rubbish.

The cook - who else?

Go and pour it over his head.

You're pretending not to hear.

Go and pour it over his head!

Do it yourself.

I won't go. I'm telling you to go.

Do as you're told before it's too late.

What will be too late?

You know yourself what will be too late.

I have no idea.

I'm not interested if you have an idea or not.

Do as you're told before it's too late.

What will be too late?

Do as you're told, you piece of trash.

Don't raise your voice here.

You think I'm a fool... well I'm not.

Do what you want, but don't get me involved. Got it?

Don't get you involved?

You'll be involved, you piece of trash.

You'll be that involved that you'll be all dirty.

And I won't even have a mark on myself.

I'll put you to work. You won't recognise your mother.

You won't recognise your father. You won't recognise yourself

in the mirror, you worthless lout.

And this Alexander!

What's his face?

The worthless lout. What a sort.

On the outside, he was interesting, tall, blonde.

Always dressed in something white.

But to understand what he had here, and here...

Well what's the difference in what the bastard was wearing...

What are you talking about? He was always dressed scruffily.

Why are we waiting for so long?

She's a good woman, not a bad one...

Take a look at her foot.

As soon as she's out of here, she won't even say hello to you.

Obviously she won't be able to say hello to me...

...because they will hang her.

Hang her?

What were you thinking?

Don't come close, don't come close, let them be together.

- I need to speak to her. - Wait a second. They adore each other.

- It's her pupil. - But I need to speak to her.

But wait!

Let's make an escape. I don't understand how you can be locked up for so long.

I like being alone.

You and I are alike. They even confuse me with you sometimes.

Possibly.

The same thing happened to me.

But without the shooting, without the blood. He also tried to harass me.

But I managed to push him away in time.

Who? Alexander? I think it's only an impression that you had.

You're impressionable.

I only want to say that you're a heroine.

I would have been frozen to the spot.

Sweetheart, explain it to me, please.

What do they want from you? What are they after?

I don't know. Maybe to prove that I'm a criminal.

That you're a criminal?

- So cruel! - They're very strange.

You know...

...yesterday I came out of the house.

Evening, frost on the ground.

A small kitten ran towards me. All white, dirty, shifting from paw to paw.

As soon as I saw him yesterday, my heart sank.

Passers-by asked me things but I couldn't say anything.

Why does it happen that one man can have so many good qualities...

...and the other has none and is as hard as a stone.

Have some patience, my dear.

You need to be patient and not get your head down.

Patience, patience.

- [Goodbye! - Patience.]

Just be patient!

Oh my god, such a tragedy!

Oh my god!

I'm freezing!

Life just consists of banal episodes.

- What? - I'm talking about those women.

I thought they were sincere.

We're walking. See?

You are permitted to walk with me in this yard. Every other day.

Listen - suddenly I heard steps in my dream. It seemed

strange because I didn't hear the car approach.

In your dream?

And I couldn't imagine who it could have been so late.

You opened your eyes.

I had the lamp on. It grew dark outside and I fell asleep.

- You didn't recognise him? - Not in the first instant.

And I didn't even recognise him by his voice.

I ask, "Who's there?" and I see already.

- And after, you got up, shook his hand - I got up, shook his hand...

And before that, you said "Please come in."

Yes, "please come in."

You're in already.

- You were a little confused. - And I said "I'm already asleep."

No, I was... still asleep! You're bored of listening to me, aren't you?

No, no, quite the opposite.

Why are you treating me like a sick person?

Why do you all think it's unpleasant for me to remember this?

The lawyer apologises all the time as well.

I'll tell him not to do that.

On the contrary. It's calming. I really need it.

Suddenly I heard steps as I was sleeping.

- You're not interested? - I am.

Tomorrow I'll get a definite answer about the lace. I'll bring it to you tomorrow.

I'm sure they will allow me to.

- Here, a mirror. - Don't. - Put it in your pocket.

I'm sorry. I'm very sorry, sweetheart...

...that between us there were things I couldn't be honest with you about.

There were formalities and prejudices.

Now I feel such...

such... trust, such trustful tenderness.

It's all correct. It's all correct, sweetheart.

It was supposed to be this way.

Meaningless to regret anything.

Never should one regret anything.

Everything happens in one possible way.

My life's truth should embarrass me.

But I'm fine. I'm alright here.

The prisoner loves his cell.

You know that earlier I didn't understand it.

There's another way.

Pay the guard directly. Negotiate with him.

There is one ginger-haired man. I met him.

An acquaintance of my former manager.

It will take longer through the officials. They might not even allow it.

There's a chance I will arrange it today. I'll bring you your toolbox.

Well, how do you find the lawyer? Does he get on your nerves?

No. He sometimes becomes annoyed himself.

You can tell him that he's incorrect and in his heart he can feel it.

Then he will laugh as if he even has a heart.

Oh, sweetheart. Everything wonderful can be horrible at the same time.

Don't give up. That's the main thing.

Pain lives inside me like a gentle, beautiful flower.

Pain blossoms like a quiet flower bud.

All the flowers in the world...

...are tears in the fabric of tranquility.

They're open wounds. Why are they so beautiful?

I'm telling you this so that you can feel my soul.

So you'd have no doubt... no doubt at all...

So there's no fear in your gaze...

So you'd understand that I love you for a reason.

Because you are wonderful.

You came up to me today, touched my hand and squeezed it.

The sensation goes on and on as if you keep coming

up to me, touching my hand and squeezing it...

...touching my hand and squeezing it!

I'm very sorry for disturbing you for a third time,

but it's necessary to identify certain circumstances.

Even if you'd disturb me three times every day I'd be quite happy.

I understand everything. Prison is prison.

It would be strange if it was like a gingerbread house.

It's hot, like that song... "Heat, heat terrible heat..."

I'm all ears.

I'd like you to repeat your plea, your story.

We will need to put some things to one side and highlight others. Understand?

I'll repeat. Simply, I'd like to ask you to...

...officially ask them to officially allow me to do crochet.

I'll do what I can, but you understand...

I understand... that sharp objects are forbidden.

I understand but you see that killing a person is not a pleasant thing.

One wants to drive the thoughts away and dissolve into a dream...

Especially in this kind of forced isolation.

Actually I love being alone.

But one needs tasks to do. I like crochet.

I can't really do anything else.

If he divorces me now...

Who is divorcing you? What are we talking about?

- What's the matter? - Nothing.

- Okay. Let's move. - No, no. It's fine.

- Let's move! - It's nothing at all.

My husband...

I'm saying my husband will divorce me.

It's a natural and organic thing.

He still loves me now as a force of habit but slowly he will grow to dislike me.

It's like living with a leper.

What's happening with you today? I really don't understand.

I'm telling you, I'm telling you!

I'm good. I like it here.

I feel like you're my doctor.

You're my doctor. I endlessly trust you.

I'm ready to listen and to do everything you say.

I'm good; I like it here with you.

You're like my savour. You understand everything.

I understand you didn't have any other way out.

That's what we focus on in court. Is that clear?

Yes.

You do understand that it really was necessary, don't you?

I understand you didn't have any other way out.

That's what we focus on in court. Is that clear?

I didn't have any other way out. Exactly.

Your husband won't divorce you.

My husband is very troubled.

Is that so?

Well, of course he's troubled.

Your husband loves you dearly. It's natural.

He's depressed. He suffers for you.

Not just for me, but because of me.

It should annoy him even.

I assure you, you're mistaken.

You're my doctor. You'll treat me.

- Listen, let's make a deal. - Okay, okay.

- Listen, let's make a deal. - You'll treat me. Agreed.

Let's agree that for a while you should forget that you know me, that we're friends.

And are we friends?

When did we meet? What's your name?

Who are you? You have a strange look.

I'm not your doctor, but a friend and insofar your lawyer.

You know, there's a song about a pirate and a girl.

The pirate calls her "bird on the winds of my soul".

Because you're not at fault...

You were dealing with great sadness.

Excuse me.

I'm wasting your time.

I'm a fan of your mood today. I praised you in vain.

I'd like to make a few things clearer in my mind...

- ...some minor details. - Of course they like to stoke the fire.

So I don't get cold, so I don't freeze.

They don't let me interrupt.

Suddenly I heard steps in my dream.

It seemed strange in the dream. I heard the sound of a car arriving.

I couldn't imagine who it could have been so late.

I thought I was still dreaming.

I didn't recognise him at first.

It seemed strange to me.

I heard the sound of a car arriving.

I couldn't imagine who it could have been so late. I thought-

Why are you reading? You remember it all perfectly.

I can explain without the book, just don't take it from me.

My husband arranged it and they gave me permission.

I don't like your tone, always treating me like the police.

How can I take it from you? I'm your lawyer. Lawyer!

I have to protect you and act within your interests.

I'm your lawyer! I'm your lawyer!

My husband arranged it.

They let me have a pencil and I wrote it down.

I wrote it down just after-

- The mishap? - Right after the mishap.

I can explain without the book.

The glasses are allowed but crochet is not.

One could slit one's veins with the glass from these.

What kind of logic are you trying to find here?

I mean, here. What kind of logic are you trying to find?

- At first, I didn't recognise him. - Right...

At first, I didn't recognise him.

The lamp was dimmed. It was dark outside. I fell asleep on the armchair.

He said, "I woke you." I didn't even recognise his voice.

I got up, said "come in, although you're in already".

Then I became a little confused.

I was confused. I laughed but I was surprised seeing him so late.

His visit surprised me somewhat because, although

we are friends, we haven't seen much of each other.

I... didn't understand... why he wanted to visit us so late.

"My husband isn't home," I said.

"He's away until tomorrow."

It seemed that he needed to justify his arrival.

He said, "Felt a bit down and decided to see how you are."

And I said that I didn't here him arrive.

He said he didn't bring the car, but by horse.

Seeing as my husband wasn't home, there weren't any drinks in the living room.

...I didn't want to wake the servants so I brought everything myself.

He started talking about money, mines, horse races...

...and I was hurrying to finish the lace. It was meant for my mother's birthday.

That's why I put on my glasses and moved the table towards me.

"Such an attractive woman, but trying to make herself ugly..." he said.

"Why do you need such thick glasses frames?"

I was surprised to hear all this.

Because he's never spoken to me that way before.

I said that I wasn't trying to be attractive...

...and it doesn't bother me if he thinks I'm attractive or not.

He said, "I think you're very attractive."

I thanked him.

I think I have the same armchair in my living room.

Yes - I thanked him and told him that he's gone mad or something...

...that he's out of his mind, I think I said.

He said, "I hope you won't deny that no one in this world has prettier hands than you."

He said it as if from an old novel and lightly touched my hand.

I slapped him like this and said, "sit down and behave..."

"...behave properly, otherwise I'll send you home."

"Otherwise I'll send you home!"

"Otherwise I'll send you home!"

For seven years of knowing each other...

Is there something bothering you?

The armchair.

I want to position it properly.

- Don't you worry. - Don't touch it! Don't touch it!

Sit down! I'm sorry.

Our conversation surprised me because,

for seven years, he's never shown any interest in me.

When he returned from war, we met a couple of times.

Once my husband even brought him over in his car.

He was ill. I was looking after him.

Our interests were... different.

...and friendship didn't turn into-

acquaintance didn't turn into friendship.

In the past two or three years we've hardly met.

Sometimes we met between mutual friends,

sometimes he came over to drink, play cards.

And sometimes we wouldn't see each other for weeks.

Sometimes we wouldn't see each other for weeks.

He poured himself another drink and I understood

that he'd started to drink before he came over.

I felt... I wasn't comfortable.

I said that, if I were you, I wouldn't drink any more.

He downed his drink and put the glass back on the table.

"You think I started this conversation because I'm drunk?"

And I said that it is a likely story.

"Nonsense." he says. "I have loved you from our first meeting."

He told me about love. He said, "I love you. I love you passionately."

I understood that he's one of those men who

doesn't believe it when someone isn't interested.

They think that, if a woman doesn't hang around

their neck, there's something wrong with her."

They think they are irresistible.

He wasn't leaving, and said, "I won't leave."

Listen, it's definitely my armchair.

Have you brought it here intentionally?

What nonsense!

- Very funny woman. - Who?

This one.

How sad.

- Yes, sad. - Sad, sad.

Everyone knows only their own life and misery, sadness.

Others' misery is seen as whimsical, unreasonable and insignificant.

It's conventional for men to disregard conventional things.

And a woman's life should be limited and timid.

I'll continue giving my testimony.

I said...

"I have never loved anyone apart from my husband."

"Even if I didn't love my husband, you would still not be the one for me."

He replied in a strange way. He said, "I don't care."

"Your husband isn't at home."

I said, "I'll call the servants and they will throw you out."

He said, "They're too far away. They won't hear or see anything."

This really made me angry.

I said, "Get out immediately!"

He said, "Don't be so formal with me."

...and grabs my hand.

And squeezes my fingers so my rings cut into my skin.

I said, "Don't you dare!" He said, "There's no need to be so formal."

I started to cry.

It's hard to remember what happened exactly and how.

He carried on proclaiming his love to me.

He said, "I am madly in love with you."

"...I am madly in love with you."

By the way, please don't forget about the crochet lace.

- Or at least just let me sew. - I promised to ask, didn't I.

- But you should understand... - I get it, I get it.

Sharp and pointed. I get it.

You shouldn't think that glasses are allowed by default.

Your husband and I, you know, have been asking for it for quite a while.

I'm sorry. I'm asking for too much. I'll continue.

What and how...

I clearly remember, what and how, up until this moment.

Then his voice became faint. Fear, disgust? I don't know what to call it.

I don't know what to call it!

I cannot guarantee the correct sequence of events.

He swore his love to me. He squeezed me. He asked me to love him in return.

He kept squeezing me. I wanted to get away but

he was very strong. It was like being in a vice.

His breath was disgusting. He was kissing me.

On my mouth, my eyes, my hair.

He kept squeezing me.

Then he lifted me up. I wanted to push him away.

But he only held me tighter and carried me off.

I saw he was pale. His eyes were lit up.

He was pale, as if possessed. He carried me to the bedroom.

There was a table in his way.

He couldn't keep his balance because of his bad knee. We fell down.

I wriggled free and ran behind the sofa.

He jumped up and ran after me.

There was a revolver on the table.

I'm not one to feel nervous, but when my husband is away he leaves a revolver.

I heard a shot. It was me shooting, do you understand?

But it seemed like I only heard it.

He swayed, mumbled something and staggered back and forth.

And I lost my mind completely.

I saw red.

I followed him and I shot and shot and shot.

I shot until I ran out of bullets.

I don't understand what's strange about it.

He fell down. Not surprisingly.

How many times would you have fired in my position?

Five, six, four, three? How many?

Once.

I'll bare this in mind next time.

I'm sorry.

Many contradictions happily co-exist...

...together in the universe.

The world is vast and I admire its diversity. It's like a zoo...

Some wear scales, some have spikes.

Others can breathe underwater.

Some eat each other, others eat grass.

And some are tiny that you can't even see them.

And there's no such creature that stands as the ideal.

Here's a shoe.

A shoe.

What's the right word for this?

What is this called?

An arch support. Sharp and pointed.

He'd play with scissors all the time.

I forgot to mention it.

He was trying to scare me, and cut himself.

Mr Alexander's horse broke free and ran away.

There's no catching her now.

A bear will eat her, or a tiger.

I feel sorry for the horse. Beautiful.

Beautiful, fat, intelligent.

A head like a snake. A wide.

Thin skin. Dry legs.

She knew her own name.

She could love a human very much.

Let me disturb you a moment, Mr Lawyer.

A brief chat in private...

It's not a bother, my friend.

The subject I would like to raise with you, Mr Lawyer...

...is of a secret and delicate nature.

Spit it out.

It's the case of the Mrs Maria, Mr Lawyer.

What are you saying?

I became aware of one circumstance, Mr Lawyer.

...which could give the case a completely different outlook.

Which circumstance?

I became aware of the existence of our defendant's notes...

...about the unfortunate victim in this tragedy.

What's surprising?

I think she often had to write notes to Mr Alexander.

It's very likely.

Mrs. Maria, for seven years, must have written to Mr. Alexander.

...inviting him over for lunch or to play cards.

This was the first thing arising when I was informed of the notes.

Although it seemed this note was written on the day the now deceased Mr Alexander died.

How do you know?

I was made aware of this circumstance by a pal.

Care to ask?

As you wish.

There's no point in it.

I hope you remember our defendant's statement of how...

for several weeks before the fatal evening, she didn't communicate with the victim.

Do you have the note?

No, Mr. Lawyer.

What's written there?

A friend gave me a copy.

Would you wish to take a look?

I guess.

F. has left until tomorrow.

We absolutely have to meet.

I'm losing my mind. If we don't meet, I'm not responsible for the consequences.

Don't drive up to the house. M.

Don't drive up to house house. M.

How do you know she wrote this message?

I have every reason to trust the person who passed this on.

Moreover, it is easily proved.

The client herself can immediately say whether she wrote it or not.

I don't believe she could have written this note.

If that's your opinion, Mr Lawyer...

...then I think the conversation can be considered over.

My friend brought me up to date seeing as I'm at your command.

Since he thought you would be interested in the existence of the note...

...before she is handed over to the prosecutor.

Who has the original?

I hope you remember that, after the death of Mr Alexander...

...she revealed his connection to a certain woman of local origin?

Yes. For several months a native lived with him.

Presently, the note is in her hands.

Thank you.

I'll think it all over.

Very well, Mr Lawyer.

Would you like me to let my friend know of our conversation?

Yes, it wouldn't be bad at all if you were to keep in touch with him.

Okay, Mr Lawyer.

Go to hell.

I'll with you alone with your thoughts.

Excuse me.

You have a meeting at 12. Where should I say you went?

Say that you don't have the slightest idea.

Stand in silence!

Wait in silence!

White women have straight noses...

...but a native woman's is a little flat.

I waited for you since morning. How do you feel?

Thank you. And yourself?

I'm perfectly healthy.

Here you can rest wonderfully and recover.

What's ours is yours.

Please have a seat.

Thank you.

During the day, I wait for my husband.

By the way, I have a new cellmate. Fluffy and stripy.

They caught him for the menagerie. But while there

isn't an opportunity, there's nowhere to keep him.

Oh, they apologise so much.

They're so dejected. It's a pity to watch.

- Thank God, there's just a few more days... - Yes, five days left.

Yes. Every morning I wake up and say:

"Thank God, there's one day less."

- By the way, do you think I'm under the right impression? - Yes. The correct one.

I mean, do I have the right version of the story?

You weren't in touch with him during the three weeks before the event?

Of course not. With whom?

With Alexander!

Of course not.

The last time we saw each other was...

I don't know, I'm always forgetting.

Did you write to him?

- No. What would I write about? - Are you sure about that?

Absolutely.

You used to be friends. Why did you stop inviting him?

You know, people become bored.

We didn't have much common ground.

When I was ill, I of course did everything that I could for him.

But for the last one and a half years, he was perfectly healthy.

He fell apart. He enjoyed wild success.

What would be the point in inviting him?

This is all that you can tell me?

Well, there are more details.

Rumour had it that he lived with a native woman.

And... I even saw her myself.

My husband demanded that I didn't let her over the threshold of the house.

I should let you know...

that there is a note, in your handwriting.

I had to write him notes.

Sometimes he... when he travelled to the city, I asked him to buy something for me.

He didn't have a telephone.

In this note, you asked him to come over because your husband wasn't home.

- That's impossible. Absolutely impossible. - What are you saying?

Read it yourself.

The handwriting's not mine.

Yes, this is a copy. There is an original.

What does this mean?

They didn't break.

Take your glasses.

Only you can explain.

I didn't write it. I swear to you, I didn't write it.

Think before you speak.

Don't shout, or someone could come running.

If the note really is written by you, we won't be able to disprove it.

Say that it is a fake.

That will be difficult to prove.

It will be much easier to prove that the note is real.

There isn't a date here.

Yes...

Yes, I noticed.

Even if I had written this note, it could have been a year ago.

I noticed that there are no dates.

If they suspect something in court, your servants will be questioned.

I swear to you, I didn't write this note!

Well, in this case, we can leave this subject alone.

If the owner of this note decides to pass it

to the judge, it won't be a surprise for you.

I'm going.

They are waiting for me in the office.

What to think after re... read... reading this note?

One could decide that you intentionally lied.

Which lie?

You made it clear that you hadn't spoken to him for at least three months.

I lived through a terrible night.

A living nightmare.

One detail could have escaped my memory.

Isn't it possible?

- Not possible! - These things happen.

But, sadly for you, you remembered every detail

about your conversation with the victim.

Yet an important circumstance such as he coming to

you upon your request on the day of his death...

...and you forgot it?

Yes, I forgot.

No! I didn't forget.

It's just... I was scared to say.

If I confess that I invited him...

...who would believe me? It's stupid.

- You will be asked to explain. - Of course it's stupid!

You will be asked to explain.

Why did he come on the exact day that your husband went away?

I was preparing a surprise.

My husband's birthday is next month.

I wanted to give him a rifle as a present.

I don't have much knowledge of sports, so I asked for advice.

Is that so? You don't remember what you said in the note clearly.

Would you like to see it again?

No. What for?

Do you really think that this note could be

written by a woman to a man she hardly knows...

simply asking for advice about a rifle purchase?

- It's not as if we hardly knew each other. - Yes?

When he was ill, I was like a mother, looking after him.

And when Filip banned him from our house...

I... invited him when Filip wasn't there.

You see, until now, your case was been relatively simple.

In my view, only one circumstance demanded explanation.

It seems to me that you shot the motionless body no less than 3 times.

It also seems to me that you are good-natured and have a gentle soul.

You know exactly how to conduct yourself, which is why it's hard to admit

...that someone like you would succumb to that kind of anger.

But anything is possible.

You know, even though the deceased was liked by many...

...I was able to prove...

...that he was capable of the crime which you accused him of, justifying your actions.

In doing so, we can refer to the undisputed fact that

emerged after his death: his connection to the native.

This news has brought society against him.

We could use this resentment, which set off this perception amongst others.

Yesterday I told your husband that I am absolutely sure of your acquittal...

I said it to cheer him up.

I am convinced that the jury will not leave the courtroom.

And do I seem to you like a snake?

Well, you're like the chicken mesmerised by the sight of the snake.

The note changes it all, radically changes the whole thing.

I'm your lawyer.

I must protect your interests in court.

I will protect them based on this information.

Maybe I believe you, maybe I doubt the truth of your words.

The defence's duty is to convince the jury...

...that the evidence provided is not grounds to convict the defendant.

And whether the defence believes the accused is guilty or not...

- ...has no bearing on the outcome. - I swear to you!

Calm down! The deceased arrived at your insistence.

I would say a hysterical invitation.

I swear to you: I didn't write that note.

It's humid in here. There's no window.

Yes!

I wrote the note!

And my pupil took it on her bicycle.

But she wouldn't say anything to anyone. She's dumb and she adores me.

It's naive of you to think that everyone is less savvy than you.

The note brings about suspicions that wouldn't even enter the mind.

And I'm not even talking about the impressions that it brought about on me.

I don't want to hear anything else other than what will save you from being hanged.

- They'll hang me? - Yes.

Yes, yes. If they prove that you killed him outside of self defence...

...the jury is simply obliged to find you guilty.

You're being accused of murder and the judge can hand out a death sentence.

- But what can they prove? - I don't know.

I don't know what they can prove. Only you know that.

I don't want to know anything.

Imagine it for yourself: suspicions arise in

court and they start questioning the natives.

What will be revealed? I don't really know.

Since recently, I'm being visited by a spirit...

...or a demon, or incubus. I don't know what to call him.

Maybe an angel.

I'm as happy as can be.

Even happier than that.

Even if after this happiness comes unhappiness...

...I'll always remember the inexhaustible extent of my ecstasy.

My gentle, passionate angel...

...who calls me angel in turn.

My god who calls me god.

I can't distinguish his body from his soul.

Everything fused and beautiful within him, like his beautiful eyes.

Eyes like two angelic notes of two voices in unison.

This is from my old diary, about you.

- My gentle and passionate angel! - My arm went numb!

...who calls me an angel in turn.

My god who calls me god.

I'm as happy as can be - even happier than that.

My gentle and passionate... angel!

...who calls me an angel in turn.

I'm happy, my gentle and passionate one.

My god who calls me god.

You didn't hear me! You didn't hear me! Listen!

- Since recently... - You have bananas in your ears. Listen!

You have bananas in your ears.

Don't you see I have bananas in my ears?

Why are you shouting, "Boy, how many are seven sevens?"

...Everything fused and beautiful within him, like his beautiful eyes.

Eyes like two angelic notes of two voices...

You need to see things in a realistic light and take...

...a realistic dose of pleasure from them.

Do you love me?

I agree, of course, that love can often really...

sharpen and enhance the pleasure of owning.

But what is there to be done, babe.

You know that too much pleasure will turn into pain.

Sadism is born out of desire to enhance pleasure.

Do you love me?

No!

Do you love me?

No! I'm going home, I'm tired! Work is a mess. Where is my tie?

Kill me.

I'll give you a revolver.

I thought you were bringing my tie.

Do you love me?

Yes.

Don't joke.

Do you love me?

No.

That's not true.

How can I answer that?

- Say, "You disgust me". - You disgust me.

Say, "It's difficult being with you."

It's difficult being with you.

Say, "I love you."

Listen, do you know where my tie is?

- Say, "I'm fed up with you". - Fed up, fed up. This is an option.

Say, "I hate your voice."

I hate your voice.

Say, "Don't touch me with your hands, with your fingers."

Why aren't you saying anything?

Have you forgotten everything that was between us?

I can't do that, do you understand?

I can't.

I can't.

Give me your hand.

Give me your hand!

Hold me!

Hold me!

Why aren't you saying anything?

You've forgotten everything that was between us.

I can't do that, you understand?

Give me your hand!

Why are you tearing your clothes? You're always tearing or breaking something.

- I've had enough of you! - No, I've had enough of you!

I will scream. I'll call everyone.

Who's the native?

Who is this woman?

Do you love her?

I'll tell my husband.

I'll bring your tie now.

Don't touch me with your hands, with your fingers!

I wanted to have breakfast, Mr. Lawyer, but before that, I wanted to find out...

Please, have breakfast! Do whatever you like.

You know, one of the teachers of yours asks one of the students of yours:

Tell me, boy. How many is seven sevens?

Ten, he says.

That's not quite right, my dear boy.

How many would it be, dear teacher?

45, 46, 47 approximately.

I'd like to know, Mr. Lawyer, if you have a task for me.

No. You apologised to them and arranged another time.

- Yes, at 3 o'clock. - Very good.

Would you like to pass anything on to my friend, Mr. Lawyer?

Which friend?

About Mrs. Maria's note, Mr. Lawyer...

...which she wrote to Mr. Alexander.

Ah, that's what you're talking about. I'd forgotten.

I spoke with her. She denies it all.

It's obviously a fake.

In that case, you won't be opposed to my

friend giving the original to the prosecutor?

Of course. But I don't understand what's in it for your friend.

My friend thinks that he should ask in the interest of justice.

I would never stand in the way of a man carrying out his duty.

I don't doubt it, Mr. Lawyer.

However, having studied the case, I concluded that...

this kind of note can irreversibly harm our client.

I've always had a high opinion of your legal insight, my friend.

I've had a thought, Mr. Lawyer.

If, with the help of my friend,

we could convince the local woman to give us the note...

We could avoid a lot of trouble.

Your friend is clearly a man of business.

On which terms will he agree to part with the note?

He doesn't have it - it's with the local woman.

She's a very ignorant woman, Mr. Lawyer.

She didn't understand the value of the note until my friend explained it.

How much are we talking?

- 50,000. - You're crazy.

Where could our client find this money?

Her husband owns one eighth of a tin company's stocks...

and one sixth of two mines.

I have a friend who will lend this money on credit.

- You have a wide circle of friends. - Yes, Mr. Lawyer.

Only the fast survive.

Let them all go to hell.

I would never advise Mr. Philip to give more than 5,000...

for a note that it is so easy to explain.

She doesn't want to sell it, Mr. Lawyer.

My friend had to negotiate a price.

And now it's no use offering anything less.

50,000 is a large amount.

I don't doubt, Mr. Lawyer, that...

Mrs. Maria's husband would rather pay the money, than see his wife hanged.

Where is the native woman now?

- She's in the village. - Will she come here?

I think it's better if we go to her.

I can drive you there, but this is a very ignorant woman, Mr. Lawyer.

- And doesn't know anything about cheques. - Okay, okay. I'll bring notes.

If there turns out to be less than 50,000.

I understand, I understand everything!

Why do I have to go who the hell knows where for a note?!

Why can't we bring her here for it?!

Why the hell can't we bring the bloody note here?!

And don't just stand there! Leave!

I beg you, get out of here!

- May I... - Get out of here! The sooner the better!

Filip!

I'm your closest friend.

My friend, come to the office. I'll be glad to listen.

Right now, I'm busy. Filip!

I'm collecting targets. Old ones.

They used to be popular.

They quickly went out of fashion and I'm the only one still collecting.

I collect weapons.

I'm mesmerised by their beauty.

The beauty of weapons. There's nothing more beautiful.

A weapon is the most beautiful thing.

Strange, isn't it?

Mysterious, strange?

A horrible, disgusting purpose.

And a beautiful, perfect shape and form.

I don't shoot. I'm not a hunter.

But I like to look at them.

It mesmerises me.

There are many of us.

By 'us', I mean people.

Clusters of people like clusters of stars.

Thank you.

You've taught me that waltz.

Nobody has ever managed to do this. Even my wife.

And you listened to me with genuine interest.

You're very kind!

Yes, it's good to be kind, even out of selfishness.

Mild-mannered.

It's good for the soul.

The soul inhales its own scent.

And when there's anger...

It poisons itself with it's own toxic juice.

It erodes the soul, like sores.

I don't like myself when I'm angry and irritated.

And it's good when I'm not like that.

My innocent brother is in jail.

My brother is very strong.

My brother wouldn't hurt a fly.

My brother is left-handed.

He...

He didn't want to murder.

He only moved him away with his arm...

And the guy tripped and fell!

Bad news, my friend.

It turns out that, on that night, your wife sent a note to Alexander...

with an invitation to come over.

I can tell you that she hadn't seen him for at least two months.

However, there's the note. It's in the hands of the native woman who he lived with.

Your wife wanted to organise a gift for your birthday.

She wanted to ask him for help with a purchase.

After the tragedy, she forgot about it and then remembered.

And then she was scared to confess this because

she said that she hadn't spoken to him for a few weeks.

Why the hell did you have to leave her a revolver?

It turned out that she really needed it.

She killed a furious creature.

But you do understand that the last thing we

want is for the note to reach the prosecutor.

Because your wife lied and she will have to explain why.

If the deceased did not break in like an unwanted guest,

but came upon invitation, we have a different case.

This can confuse the jury. Do you hear me?

Shit.

If the situation wasn't so serious, I would have laughed at the thought,

that I need to take such a strange and questionable step.

And the person I do it for doesn't have a clue.

Maybe they think it's something every lawyer should do.

Do you have money?

50,000.

That's almost everything that I have.

I'm not the one who needs it.

You.

Me?

You, you.

- Can you get it immediately? - I think so.

I can take credit for my stocks in tin and mines.

But why?

If you want your wife to be acquitted.

But she explained it all.

She can explain.

They can't hang her for shooting a furious creature.

Maybe the won't. They'll accuse her of manslaughter,

and she'll be sentenced to three years.

Three years...

Three years?!

- But I don't understand! - What don't you understand?

What did she want to give me as a present?

She said that she wanted to give you a rifle.

When do you need the money?

Today. Bring it to me in the office.

- Will the woman be there? - No.

I'll go to her tomorrow.

I'll bring the money and go with you.

Thank you.

Do you like it?

There's a delay with your move to another room. It's on hold.

The whitewashing isn't dry. Still damp.

It's on hold.

Call that one, the one with the glass!

That person is no longer with us. Hanged.

Here, let me introduce you. Instead of me.

This person will replace me.

And I'm off. I'm going away.

To somewhere else,

a new climate, a new prison.

There is a change happening in my life.

I'm terribly happy.

Goodbye.

Think of me kindly.

We're all civilised people...

...white people should be friends.

We must stick together.

I can't stand natives.

Only a white woman is a woman.

I mean, they're white too...

...but a little yellow-ish.

Mr. Lawyer...

It's good that we left our stuffy office for some nature.

Breathe! Inhale deeper. I beg you.

Inhale deeper. Breathe it in.

Look around

This world of pleasure is just a mirage.

A row of visions.

Oh, I made a mistake.

This way.

This way.

This way, sir.

There are so many stones here, but they are our stones, Mr. Lawyer.

This way, please.

Look around!

This world of pleasure is just a mirage!

A row of visions!

You are the bird of joy.

This way, please.

Be careful. Oops.

This is it. These are the family walls.

This way.

You are the bird of joy, messenger of delight!

Leave the sky and come to my garden!

Bloody hell.

Don't do that! Don't! Stop it.

Please stop that!

Oh, please stop. Don't do that. I'm asking you!

Please don't. Stop it.

My soul is waiting. Why do we hide?

My soul is waiting.

Oops. That was a mistake.

Here.

I'm mistaken, I'm mistaken.

Okay. Excuse me, excuse me.

There!

Magic feathers, magic feathers...

Thank you.

Mr. Lawyer!

Mr. Lawyer! You're my closest friend.

I'm your closest friend...

My friend, come to the office. I'll be glad to listen.

How did you turn up here? Do you live here or something?

I live here!

Have some food.

Go to the office. I'll meet you there.

- I live here! - There's no need.

Hello, Mr. Lawyer! I'm mistaken.

I'm mistaken, I said. Let's go. This way, please.

It's not much further.

Let's go.

Here we are, through this door.

Don't be afraid. Through this door.

Don't be afraid. Through this door. Don't be afraid.

There, through this door, please.

Don't be afraid...

Go in, go in...

- Mr. Lawyer has come to see you. - There, through this door.

- A small celebration for the soul. - This is our home.

Please, come in. We're all so glad.

Please.

- Is she the one? - Yes, Mr. Lawyer.

Make yourself comfortable, help yourself to food...

We're all so glad. It's a wonderful day for us.

We're all glad - you're our sponsor.

No, no. This is unnecessary.

- Please help yourself to food. - Have a bite.

Is the note with her?

It's here, Mr. Lawyer. Here.

Take a look! What a handsome one.

Looks like me.

- Where the bloody hell is the note? - It's here, Mr. Lawyer.

First this, then the note.

It's here, Mr. Lawyer. It's here, it's here.

- Very soon, very soon. - Ah, how wonderful.

This is it, this is it. How wonderful.

Ah, ah, ah, how wonderful.

So he what - lived here? Alexander?

It's possible, maybe, definitely could have.

- It's possible. I don't know, Mr. Lawyer. - The watch!

- Oh God, could be an allergy to them. - Bless you, Mr. Lawyer,

Or a cold. Who the hell knows.

- Where's the note?! - It's here, here, Mr. Lawyer!

They fobbed off my watch.

My son and I are going to start up a new law office.

My son and I.

God, why did we have to come for this bloody note to this bloody hole?!

Why couldn't we have had it brought to the office?

Oh God, it's an allergy to those stupid feathers!

"Magic feathers..." They've fobbed us off.

Here's the document. The original.

Let me have a look.

- Pass it here, I'll... - Let me keep it. It wasn't cheap.

Will you still need me today, Mr. Lawyer?

You can stay here and get your share.

What do you intend to do with this piece of paper?

Keep it.

Actually, that evening I went to the capital,

to buy myself a rifle, among other things.

Maria told me that one of her acquaintances had a rarity of a rifle.

But I didn't find him at home.

Farewell.

The jury acquitted her.

The court's decision was met with thunderous applause.

The judge congratulated Maria, and she became free.

I love it when someone loves another.

Look at Filip.

His facial muscles can be quite expressive.

The prevailing expression...

one of brightness and the most pretty kindness.

Mainly expressed by contractions of the zygomaticus major muscle,

with a raised lower eyelid.

This expression is often interrupted by expressions of deep thought.

What a disgrace! I wasn't asked to go along.

All my life I have dreamt about prison.

You came directly from prison, from the cell?

Were you in that dress or their clothes?

Was she there in that dress?

I don't know.

It's impossible to separate lies from truth.

It's perceived tragically.

But if you really love someone,

you don't want to know the harsh truths.

You want to be deceived.

Even when you know, you shut your eyes.

And you're angry at those who try to open them.

But it's not worth shouting over. It's forced and fake.

Any process has its value, independent of its goal.

- Civilisation has determined everything... - Let's not mention...

- ...what is humorous, what is sad. - I won't accept any favours.

How should a husband behave, how should a wife.

What to cry at and when to laugh.

- The most impudent pretender. - Good form, terrible vulgarity.

- Let's not mention the... - The taste...

- He tries to portray suicide. - Of a mother's milk absorbs everything.

He's in a prison hospital...

It would be necessary to try to change the chemical composition of a mother's milk...

so he'd be declared insane.

He manipulates and tears the sheets.

- He does all of this in front of everyone. - It should be forgotten about.

Why aren't you saying anything?

...so he'd be declared out of his mind.

He wants to escape punishment for his crime.

I don't think I can, Elena, dear. I need to go to the mine at once.

What, now?

Yes, now. I haven't been there in a long time.

I have things to attend to. People are waiting for me.

I would really appreciate it if you could let my wife stay,

just while we decide what to do.

I'm leaving now, to arrive before dark.

- Will you see me out, Maria? - Yes, all right.

In my opinion, he is not attentive enough.

If he needs to go, let him, and let's not argue over it.

He must understand that, right now, she wants to be with him.

I'm convinced that he wouldn't leave if it wasn't necessary.

He knows.

What does he know?

That Alexander and I...

That Alexander and I...

He knows that Alexander and I.

That we loved each other.

For many years.

It began almost right after we came back from the war.

We understood that we needed to be careful and he pretended to be unpleasant to me.

He rarely came over to us with Filip around.

Usually I drove to some meeting point.

We met up for all these years.

Not a soul suspected anything.

But about a year ago, he became different.

I didn't understand what happened.

I couldn't believe that he's stopped loving me. He always denied it.

I lost my mind. It was hell.

I didn't need him anymore, but I didn't understand.

I didn't understand what happened.

I couldn't let him go.

I loved him.

I gave him everything. He was my entire life.

Suddenly I got wind that he was living with some native woman.

At first I didn't believe it. I didn't want to.

But I saw her, saw with my own eyes, walking through the village with her bracelets.

When I passed her, she looked at me and I realised: she knows.

I wrote to him. I was insane to write that note.

But I didn't understand what I was doing.

I didn't care. The last time we met,

he hugged me, kissed me, and went straight to her.

The damn note.

He always destroyed my letters after reading them.

How could I have thought there was one left?

He came over. I told him that I know everything.

He didn't confess, just said it was gossip.

I lost my temper.

How I hated him in that moment. I was ready to tear him apart.

I said everything I could to hurt him.

I insulted him and almost spat in his face.

Finally, it got to him.

He told him he didn't want to see me anymore.

He said, it's fine, now I know...

...finally, I'm leaving him in peace.

I don't remember what came next.

I freaked out.

It didn't feel like myself.

He fell and I stood over him and fired, fired, fired.

Until I heard the empty barrel click and I knew that I was out of bullets.

Maria, sweetheart! Your room is ready.

I'm coming, coming!

I bet you're practically falling over from tiredness.

Apparently, it's impossible to determine

such barbaric traits are instilled in the most gentle of women.

Who could have believed that this calm, well-mannered woman...

was capable of such diabolical passion?

Since recently, I'm being visited by a spirit...

...or a demon, or incubus. I don't even know how to call it.

Maybe an angel.

I'm as happy as can be. Even happier than that.

Even if after this happiness comes unhappiness...

...I'll always remember the inexhaustible extent of my ecstasy.

My gentle, passionate angel, who calls me an angel in turn.

My god who calls me god.

I can't distinguish his body from his soul.

Everything fused and beautiful within him, like his beautiful eyes.

Eyes like two angelic notes of two voices in unison.

I'm collecting targets. Old ones.

They used to be popular.

They quickly went out of fashion and I'm the only one still collecting.

I collect weapons.

I'm mesmerised by their beauty.

The beauty of weapons. There's nothing more beautiful.

A weapon is the most beautiful thing.

Strange, isn't it?

Mysterious, isn't it?

A horrible, disgusting purpose.

And a beautiful, perfect shape and form.

I don't shoot. I'm not a hunter.

But I like to look at them.

It mesmerises me.

There are many of us.

By 'us', I mean people.

Clusters of people like clusters of stars.

THE END subs by matty5190 @ KG