Chapter 409: Sleeping Sun
Snow poured onto the landscape of Berlin, especially in the rural areas just outside the city to the north where Bruno’s personal estate lay in tranquil silence. Midnight had come and passed, and Bruno had been sitting outside, enduring the elements as they passed by—not violently or bitterly, but gingerly, as if the frosty wisps were gently kissing his steaming flesh, keeping him cool while he should long have turned into a boiled lobster.
It had been nearly an hour since Bruno first stepped into the pool of water, one closer to boiling temperature than room temperature—103 degrees Fahrenheit to be precise, or roughly 39 degrees Celsius.
This was not the grand pool which his family used to enjoy during the summer season. No, this was a much smaller body of water, more the size of a bathtub. Yet the water did not lie still like such a thing; rather, it was bubbling turbulently. The jets beneath the surface had been designed in such a way as to massage the muscles and bring relief to the body as a whole—especially the arms, back, and shoulders.
It was a comfortable sensation. Despite the thick clouds gently dropping snow upon him, Bruno could see glimpses of a crystal-white full moon in the sky above. All the while, a beer rested in his hand, the bottle coated in condensation and feeling far warmer than the liquid within, which helped keep the man hydrated and healthy despite rapidly sweating out his body’s fluids.
In fact, this was the final beer in a six-pack that now sat empty on the stand above the water, designed specifically to hold things aloft from the liquid that would surely ruin them. Bruno had sat there far longer than he realized, enjoying the sensation washing over him, as he gazed silently to the sky as if by doing so he felt himself drawing closer to heaven’s gates in an overwhelming sense of bliss and relief.
His eyes eventually shut as he let the water jets massage his neck—that is, until he felt his face plunge forcefully under the water, which ran through his nostrils and caused him to wake up from his trance-like experience, coughing up what had plunged into his lungs.
Standing above him was his beautiful and loving wife, with a sadistic smirk on her face, clearly the culprit who had just dared an attempt at mariticide. Not in broad daylight per se—rather, one might say beneath the illumination of the full moon—but still, the nerve!
Rather than be angry at the woman’s shamelessness, Bruno was equally playful as he grabbed her by the shoulders, tearing off the towel shielding her fair, jade-like skin from the falling snow. He dragged her up and over the edge and into the pool with him, a small splash accompanying her naturally meager weight as she plunged into the water in her husband’s arms, laughing at his flagrant assault, all while expressing her concern in a lighthearted way.
"You’ve been out here for an hour, you miserable bastard. Are you okay? Or are you having another bout of existential dread?"
Bruno immediately feigned offense, mocking her for suggesting that his most attractive and defining trait was somehow negative.