Chartres, 21st of June, 14:30
Summer solstice
The scene which met our eyes was surreal. Policemen, tourists, priests, the staff of the gift shop, tour guides, ordinary people: all had returned inside the cathedral and were watching us with a dreamy look in their eyes.
“What the…?” I murmured as I leant on Àrtemis.
After a while the melody reached our ears. The whole cathedral was resonating with the sound of Mozart’s composition, the pillars and vaults themselves vibrating in harmony.
Its melody enveloped my mind and my heart, erasing all negative thoughts. I looked over at Àrtemis and knew she was feeling the same thing. Peace. The state of grace. The secret of the Gothic cathedrals.
I felt neither hatred nor resentment, nor pain. And when I became aware of a man emerging furiously from the bowels of the cathedral, I simply stood immobile, smiling at him. So did everyone present. No one moved, no one took out a weapon.
The man with the gun looked at us and his face, at first so full of hatred, began to soften. The arm that held the weapon dropped slowly to his side and his eyes filled with tears. He stared at the policemen, who watched with infinite compassion as he put down his instrument of death.
He walked over to a man with salt and pepper hair, and his tears, timid at first and then with increasing intensity, turned into liberating sobs.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered, while Thomas, smiling at him paternally, embraced him and led him away, followed by his men.
Àrtemis and I looked at one another for a long time. We didn’t need to say anything. It was all absolutely perfect. I kissed her there, under the rose window which spread its colours upon us.