Prologue
Our Innermost DemonsYou may eat of all the trees of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat; for in the day that you eat of it you shall certainly die.
Genesis 2:17
I breathe, but I struggle as if under water. It is a hopeless battle. The sea is endless and I don't know where to turn. My arms and legs can no longer find any strength. Only slowly and with great difficulty can I move, until I can't fight any longer. With every breath I take, I am pulled further into the void. Above me, the last lights on the surface are fading. No one hears my silent screams, yet I can hear them. They tell me to be quiet. I cover my ears, but the hissing, mean voices pierce through. They talk behind my back, condemning me. With their hands cupped, they whisper in each other's ears. And even you have turned away from me. Was I not your disciple? Is this your punishment for me?
But why do I keep trying? You don't want to hear me.
You won't answer me.
The evenings became twisted into one another. They were a consumed thicket of loneliness and despair. Tendril after tendril heaved itself over him. A thicket he couldn't make it out of. But he didn't know if he even wanted to. He knew it had been too late for him anyway. The gates of heaven would remain closed for him. His sins laid open for anyone to see and condemn him.
"May I have one?" Taemin looked at the figure that interrupted his thoughts. A middle-aged man with light brown hair glanced at him expectantly, but waited patiently for his answer. Taemin could see that he had already had something to drink. Maybe scotch and soda, Taemin thought.
He looked him over. The stranger was slightly taller than Taemin himself and had a slim build. Whether that would be enough, Taemin was not able to tell. Wordlessly, he held out the light brown cigarette pack to him. Gauloises, red, without additives. He gestured for the man to sit down opposite him and the man did just that while putting the cigarette between his lips.
Taemin's breathing became heavier at the sight. The man reached across the table and took the lighter lying on it. Taemin also leaned over the table, his gaze fixed firmly on the cigarette, thirsting for what would follow. His counterpart held his left hand protectively in front of the cigarette and the illuminating fire. Taemin his dry lips. The promising glow captivated him. In the darkness it seemed more reddish, but in the daylight it was a radiant orange.
Only slightly, scattered by the wind, Taemin could detect the smoke-filled scent. But it was enough to captivate him once more. Deeply he inhaled the intimate scent and for a brief moment he saw him again.
No, Taemin did not want to find
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