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The priest is away in Italy. I still feel ashamed about the doubts I shared with him; my unfaithfulness. Like a massive sin. On the other hand, he couldn’t have possibly had any idea about all the incredible things that followed my three-year struggle between skepticism and remorse. Wishing for, desiring to be true, isn't time travel reality. However, people are free to stuff into their heads and believe whatever they wish, blurring fantasy with reality, absorbing tales of a (perhaps far distant) future or event which no one can prove. THIS WAY OUT PRODUCTIONS may disclose your Personal Data in the good faith belief that such action is necessary to: If you are located outside Greece and choose to provide information to us, please note that we transfer the data, including Personal Data, to Greece and process it there.
Then I was offered the position at that school. I took it as a good sign and was quite happy since I was financially independent and was able to see her every three months. Then another year passed. Her mother died. I had finally saved some money to start my life with her. She used to write to me saying she was very sad. I assumed that her mother’s recent death was the reason. I was mistaken. These last few days I haven’t seen anybody else apart from the two doctors. The nurses were being kept away from me following the episode with the mirror, when I first saw my new face and lost it. The new doctor stood by me as a kind and skillful healer but also as a silent partner who always avoided looking straight into my eyes whenever we were alone, and who always had a hint of agitation in his eyes.
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These third parties have access to your Personal Data only to perform these tasks on our behalf and are obligated not to disclose or use it for any other purpose. Analytics And when I saw her in the lamplight, holding her embroidery, my longing became a life goal vindicated, my salvation from loneliness…
The place is poor - it’s shown by the many beggars on the streets and the sympathetic elderly men with their tormented violins - but the women here are all well-groomed and elegant, with an inexplicable air of true nobility. As the months went by and I began to feel better, I regained my courage. In the end, human beings can get used to everything… It’s been three days now since I managed to carry myself out of bed and noticed something unexpected: my pains have gone away and I was able to walk even during the first few hours. The mirror is now the only reminder of the bandage that I still have wrapped around my head. And if what they say is true, they’re going to remove it the day after tomorrow. Have I recovered then? Can it be true? Am I not dead? Who could imagine and believe a miracle like this?
Whatever Happened to Dienach’s Chronicles from the Future?
Interesting that people will never know and comprehend the fantasy of it because those living today, will not be here to see the false reality in it all" When that man appeared and asked Anna’s father for her hand in marriage, her father begged her to accept, lying to her about his financial situation. He kept pleading with her for months, bending her will little by little. Only after Anna’s passing did I learn the whole truth about how her father took advantage of her love and affection for him. Had her mother been alive, she would have sensed the pain in her heart. That's when I discovered the book for the first time and started to "restore" it, without the sentimentalities that kept Papahatzis from doing something more than an exact translation of the “holy” scripts of his teacher. Almost a century after the original script was written, this was a task that had to be undertaken so that a 21st century reader could really understand what a 20th century man wanted to say. George Papahatzis translated the notes of Dienach gradually over a period of 14 years – from 1926 to 1940. He was surprised by the notes that Dienach had left him. He initially believed his teacher had written a novel in a very peculiar way. But as he continued to read, he realized that what he was translating were Dienach’s memoires.
Paul Dienach was not an author, poet, or professional writer. Rather, he was an ordinary man who kept a journal, never with the expectation that it would be published. Anna died two years after the wedding. She had started losing weight. Her husband said that neither would she listen to anyone nor was she cautious about her health. The physicians had told them that she shouldn’t get with child. She died before she could nurse her infant… The smaller nations were rather comfortable with their old social formations and had their own internal problems to worry about, so they were the last ones to adopt the new forms of organisation. The “Great Powers”, however, which had come to the fore in the 21st century, were struggling to understand one another. There was constant winning and complaints about the ways and criteria of the distribution of universal income. No one ever believed that their share was fair.
5-IX
I knelt down beside her bed and asked her to stop. I told her she’d get better and everything would be ok. She kept pulling my hand towards her pale face and lips and sighed as if relieved. Where are you, Mom? Were you alive I’d tell you everything! To you, everything! I know that you’d always respect what’s now the most sacred thing in my life. August 14 th 1922 Translation by Eleonora Kouneni Translation Editing by Thalia Bisticas Additional Translation by Matina What is Ann feeling at the moment? What does this colorless world look like through her eyes?” I’d think.
Two years later, seeing his health become worse and knowing that his death was imminent, Dienach decided to go to Italy. But before he left, he entrusted his loyal student, Papahatzis, with a briefcase full of notes, telling him that if he wanted to read them in the future, it would help him with his German. He said goodbye to his young friend and left. He died from tuberculosis in the first half of 1924.
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