Tuesday, 8 May 2018
The bullied takes on Goliath in the true horror stories in modern Paris part 72
Before I go into the thing that touched my finger in my scary hours, I would like to revisit the dawn that followed the nightmare.
The sky of Paris looked gray white. The crazy howling had finally subsided. With the heavy sleepless head I went downstairs not knowing what to expect. I looked into the restaurant glass façade. Oddly, the floor had been cleaned. Very much puzzled, I returned to the building. Something told me to look into the residential garbage area. I gasped. It was filled with hundreds of empty drink bottles and mountain of litters. Mr. Pride had promised that his staff would take their litters out to the nearest commercial garbage station. Like many other his promises, this was hardly observed. Now it was up to the residents, like me, to clean up the mess because the employed cleaner would refuse to do more than what was in the contract.
I noticed a design on a large cake box. Was it for a religion or a cult, I did not know, and that is not important. What I knew was that religions teach you to consider other people, while cults use God to justify their agenda. Stomp dancing all night on the ground floor of a residential building is certainly inconsiderate. Their chorus-turn-howling sounded as if they enjoyed inconveniencing the residents as if it proves how far they have come conquering the world. Oh, they still need us, the inferior existence, to clean up their mess. This disturbed me because I had come from the country where religion stays private and is never used as an excuse to avoid taking responsibilities for one’s actions. Not never, I must admit, because cults do exist in Japan too, but such demands for religious tolerance is virtually unheard of in Japan because if you cause troubles to the society, it will reflect on your personality, not the religion you hide behind when it suits you. This view may not be accepted in the other parts of the world, but I am pretty sure that using a religion to push one’s agenda is the sure way to become unpopular.
Sadly, some people do not care for other people’s feelings. Mr. Pride does not even care for other people’s health, so focused on making profits. Mrs. Harmonie, likewise, takes it for granted the sacrifice from the others, willfully condemning me into the life without fresh air. Mr. Justice believes in power of politic more than showing empathy when it counts. Of course these type of characters exist in Japan too, but the Japanese society has the right to denounce them for their attitudes, whilst in France, these characters claim to be victims on the ground of their religion when denied of their wishes...to my utter surprise. I remembered how my neighbours were afraid to make complaints to the restaurant from Hell. The best they could do was to throw some water in. I finally understood the reason.
As I stood in the dark collider counting the numbers of the discarded glass bins, I noticed the stinking odour. It was coming from the door that led to the basement. To be continued.