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March 18
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[April 17] Maria is getting sicker; tuberculosis is washing her life away day after day, but all the beauty of this World still shines in the depths those tormented eyes. I'm not as strong as she is, I can't bear my impotence. As a scientist once I used to think that the matter had no secrets I couldn't unveil: "Oh, how fool I was... miserable small ant!".

[May 10] The physician has suggested a period of rest on the mountain. Two or three months should be enough, then we will back home and he will visit her again. While telling this, he has looked me shaking his head almost imperceptibly. I hate him with all my heart, for that motion and for he can't save her; I hate God, in which in the past I didn't believe at all and now I need so much to have a guilty... and I hate myself.

[May 22] We took a nice Chalet in Courmayeur with a marvelous view of the landscape and the night sky for me and rarefied air so precious for my bride. There's something no honest man can deny about Italy: this country is literally suffocated by every kind of artistic and natural beauty. Because of this my beloved Maria could not be born in any other nation on this planet.

[July 15] Today I've seen a crowd of yokels playing some stupid game in honour of the summer's sun, all so full of life. Such a fool gardener must be this Creator: the most beautiful flower of his garden pales and withers and he doesn't care, too busy with thousands of useless blades of grass.

[July 20] She has died last night. A lot of friends and villagers have come, to 'bring support' they say, while I just want to stay alone. May the depth of hell swallow me to soothe this pain.

[August 10] I decided to remain here for some other month, for here she saw her last days. My friends sent me all my scientific equipment: they are worried for me, but I don't care. The truth is that I've seen a ghost. Once I didn't believe in those I called 'phenomena of suggestion' but now, maybe my fragile nerves, maybe my imagination or simply the truth: I will spend the next weeks studying this phenomenon.

[October 3 ] Two months have passed since I started this pioneering study. Two months of observations and analysis this 'diaphanous creature' (or creatures, I'm not sure) people usually call 'ghost'. The fact itself was exiting my scientific mind, making me think that 'ghosts' were nothing more than a sort of transparent animals. Then today I have recognized in a less evanescent spirit the face of my Maria: I'm upset, I must reflect.

[November 17] One month of reflections and computations then finally the insight: this world is not the only one; a twin world lies close to ours; for some reason, matter of frequencies probably, we can't interact; ghosts are just creatures of the other world we can see, even if not so good, because of some weakness in the membrane dividing our worlds. This means that in the other world my beautiful wife lives, and I can meet her again. I know that on the other side there will be the other me too, but I don't care, I will spend there the rest of my life, hidden, just to see her alive.

[May 12] The Machine is ready. It took six months, but it seemed a life and looking back I don't remember exactly how I was able to understand and realize part of this work. Following the simple rules of Nature I inferred that I need to catch a ghost and trap it in this world, to balance my journey to the other. The only risk is to catch my Maria, but it won't happen, because her ghost has her face.

[May 25] I finally caught a ghost. Don't ask me how I did: I'm really not aware of it.This is my last journal: I'm ready to go and my diary won't follow me. I leave this diary to my friends and science, togheter with my scientific equipment, my books and the 'machine' of course.I say farewell to this reality so unreal without her.

[May 25] My name is Maria Bonforte, proud wife of Doctor Andrea Bonforte. I'm not from this world, strange thing to say to myself too. In my world my beloved hausband has passed away because of tuberculosis and I have lingered in the Chalet where he spent his last days just like a ghost and then in company of true ghosts, one of whom had his face. Then I was suddenly trapped by a strange force and now I'm here. I've just read his diary and it's like my heart was mutilated for the second time. I hope he will find a way to come to me.

:icondonotuseplz::iconmyartplz:

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:iconouroborosragnarok:
OuroborosRagnarok Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I like that ending. It came suddenly, like a slap. And it was all the better for it.
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:iconforestofairies:
ForestoFairies Featured By Owner Mar 29, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
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:iconengie-delane:
Engie-DeLane Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2014  Student Writer
I agree with ravingroshie, July fifteenth is such a beautiful (but tragic) description amidst a beautifully tragic piece!
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:iconforestofairies:
ForestoFairies Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
This story is full of passionate love...
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:iconengie-delane:
Engie-DeLane Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2014  Student Writer
I know it is, but in the end they are still separated. The fact he goes through so much trouble all for the sake of love is what makes it so beautiful!
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:iconforestofairies:
ForestoFairies Featured By Owner Mar 21, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
He will probably try again to reach for the alternative-Maria... he will try and try...  
but if they will ever meet, the dream will end ... for they will be obliged to face the fact that the 'other' is not the person they loved.

This separation and the efforts to meet keep Illusion (and passion) alive...
and the illusion, in this case, is the best ending for them.
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:iconravingroshie:
ravingroshie Featured By Owner Mar 19, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I love this description [July 15] the flower and blades of grass :)
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:iconforestofairies:
ForestoFairies Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Yeah!
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