The Question You Were Afraid Of

You can find the Russian version here: http://proza.ru/2025/06/27/1620


The Question You Were Afraid Of – 27.06.2025


He doesn’t come loudly.
Doesn’t slam the door. Doesn’t shout in your face.
He just one day appears inside —
at the table, across from you,
and speaks softly:

— Name one action of yours
that you did not out of fear,
not out of gain,
not out of habit,
but because otherwise — it would’ve been wrong.

You laugh. You look away. You say:
— And who are you, anyway?

He doesn’t answer. He stays.

The next day, you hear him behind you,
when you sign a paper,
when you answer “fine” instead of “bad,”
when you turn off the screen that showed something uncomfortable,
when you stay silent hearing a lie,
and when you push away the thought:
“Maybe I myself — don’t discern?”

He returns. Not always as a question. Sometimes — just as silence,
in which that question sounds louder than any truth.

He does not judge.
He does not let you forget.

And one day, when you’re left without tasks, without company, without excuses,
you suddenly catch yourself thinking
that you want to answer.

But you realize:
there is no answer.

Because you did everything — not to lose,
said everything — not to suffer,
stayed silent — to “stay in place.”

And he nods.
Not with malice. Without reproach.

— Now you know.
— And that means — you can discern.

And he disappears.
And you remain —
for the first time in a long time — by yourself.