I look at the rope and the little body falls, horrifying howl, I hold her in my arms, we both lie down, it's raining on us, it's raining. Slowly, very slowly, the rapture grows fainter, the noise goes away, goes away, it's far away now, far, far away… I'm looking, it appears like a flash… light… light… born somewhere… is she coming to me or me to her?… And suddenly I plunge there, where there is neither space nor time, in the tubular rainbow. Uuummmmmm…

***

"These are objective data and refer to the mass movement of the working class in Russia in the coming period, definitively proving, through the experience of conscious workers, the correctness of our party's line..."

The light from the Spark's video screen flickers dimly in James' wings. James is intent on sticking his horn in my ear, so I take him off my shoulder and let him fly. V. I. Lenin, Works, vol. 20. He flutters from the stainless steel plate and sits on the other shoulder, continuing his research activity. I stick the last poster and take two steps back. "Forward to Communism!" say the three young men with determined looks, directed asymptotically somewhere towards the pile of rubble behind me.

The comrades alighted from the jeep painted in camouflage colors also looked attentively. Controls had become more frequent since that poster put up by the class enemies, which depicted a collective farm worker reaping and with the inscription above: "With a sickle in search of a hammer." By the time the patrols realized that it was yet another blow of imperialism that never sleeps, the slogan had become famous.

- Well done, fellow pioneer! one of them congratulates me, shifting his Kalashnikov to his other shoulder.

I know him, he runs a brothel two blocks from my villa.

I turn and greet him cheerfully with my hand to the temple, while behind my back I have a clenched left fist. No middle finger. I then gather my things and whistle to James, who is studying a dead rat with interest. We take a few steps and then the thunder pierces my brain, my ears whistle, I start to scream because I know what's coming, because the thunder has never deceived me.

- Come here! I shout.

James is scared, he zigzags through the air in confusion, I grab him and we both dive into a greenish puddle, drained from some dumpsters. The comrades left behind me look surprised from the car and the driver doesn't have time to turn the key in the ignition, because suddenly the inferno begins. The 14.5s thunder round, making a mess, large chunks of plaster splashed, the three jump jerkily and are already sieved when an incendiary lifts the car from under the front deck, twisting it in the air and spraying it.

The "Angels of Darkness" appear around the fire, slowly, on high-powered engines, real walking factories, equipped with two 12.7 each. Reducible. Like them. The skin is flayed on their backs in their symbol: the circle and the inverted five-pointed star. They are all young and know that they have no escape if they fall into the clutches of communist patrols. But that's exactly what they like.

I laugh as I tear up my posters and try to put out the fire on the corpses with the liquid in the carrier, I don't want them to see me, I get James out from under me, who was starting to show signs of nervousness, and we crawl away until I get to the first gangway, there I get up and run madly until I come out on another street, I run until I feel like I can't anymore and I leave panting on a curb.

- You saw? They tore our posters!

James doesn't look impressed, but moves his trunk, as if questioning. I laugh. Yes, I already took the money! And anyway, they didn't have the "angels" with us... Whoops, let's go home!

We get up just when, from the shop in the back, a salesman appears with a club in his hand. Candy shop. I turn to him and he suddenly realizes that he would really like to offer some delicious things to the scrawny, dwarfish, hunchbacked pokitania that he sees reflected in the window. He brings us a big bag, I thank him and we leave, leaving him to wonder why the hell he did that.

I get home late. Uma sleeps like an angel, and as I wrap the coat around her, she asks me what color James' panties are. I smile, I put James in his box without removing his panties for the simple reason that he doesn't have any, I put the bag next to Uma and, before I pull the cardboard back over us, I take out your picture, mommy and stroke your hair and eyes again and I say: "Good night, I love you!".

***

Romania

Official name: Romanian Communist Confederation.

Location: in SE Europe, in the lower course of the Danube, between 43°37'07" — 48°15'06" lat. N and 20°15'44" — 29°41'24" long E.

Borders: Ukraine (1770.8 km), Black Sea (245 km), Turkey (687.2 km), Serbia (449.9 km).

Area: 237,500 square km

Population: 16,142,000 people (density 68 people/square km).

Official language: Romanian.

Capital: Bucharest (828,500 people, 604 square km, the capital of Romania since 1862, first documented in 20.09.1459.

Administrative divisions: 45 states […] Currency: 1 leu — 100 money.

Natural conditions: [...]

History: [...] on 19.06.2012, the provinces of southern Ukraine, with the support of Romania and Moldova, proclaim their independence. Ukraine's military intervention triggers Romania's diplomatic reaction and the severance of bilateral relations, simultaneously with the "Declaration of Independence of all Romanian States" adopted by the Parliament on 28.10.2012. Despite all the attempts by international bodies to smooth out the conflict, on 01.01.2013, Ukraine declares war on Romania [...] After a series of initial successes, the Romanian army is forced to withdraw to the south, the front stabilizing in the summer of 2013 on the line of the Carpathians, on the course of the Siret and on the northern border of the Danube Delta. For almost two years, the war continues with exhausting efforts on the part of both states […] On 06.05.2015, Ukraine nuclear attacks the south of Romania, the main targets being the big cities, an action followed by the breaking of the front around Brăila and the occupation of the southern and western territories. This decision, to nuclear attack a neighboring state, generates a strong protest from the other states. On 08.05.2015, the Security Council adopts Resolution no. 1227, later known as the "6-day embargo" (see Ukraine) […] On 18.05.2015, the Kiev Peace Treaty is signed between Ukraine and the Romanian Communist Confederation, in which the newly installed government undertakes to pay $6 billion worth of war reparations — gold […]”

(Petit Larousse — "States of the World", pp. 614-618)

***

- Health!

I was on the top floor of an abandoned building and I was looking at the lights of Bucharest at night, the warmth of the city fluttered pleasantly up, the stars twinkled cheerfully, the darkness blurred the desolate image during the day, and I sat with my legs dangling in the void and just watched. And it was good.

The voice rang out so clearly I almost fell off the edge. I clung to a remnant of the railing, fear still throbbing in my toes, and looked around. No one.

"Ahh… hello!" I muttered uncertainly.

"I'm sorry I scared you." What are you doing there?

The voice was pleasant, warm, it seemed to rub you on the inside of the cranial box and it was not a voice. I looked around and shrugged. The curious usually die quickly.

- I rest and look at the stars...

The laughter rang out in delight, rolled from one eardrum to the other, and the voice exclaimed joyfully:

- How pretty! Will you let me look at the stars too?

They weren't my stars and I didn't see any inconvenience in it anyway.

- Okay, then move on so I can fit in too.

He suddenly appeared to my left, something small with long, curly blond hair. I didn't go to a school of good manners, but I had read how a real gentleman behaves, so I cleared my throat to introduce myself:

- Hm... hm... Miss, you do me a great honor and immense pleasure to look at the stars with me! Now let me introduce myself…

I gave up the strict bow, because I risked falling off the block.

— ...yours, humble slave forever, losif!

It was adapted by me, but the quote came out almost perfectly. I waved my peaked hat in the air and leaned toward her to kiss her hand. A little bit difficult, because his palms grew directly from his shoulders.

— losif, losif! losssifff! he laughed a little. It tastes like soda!

- By sssifffon! I corrected it.

She seemed to have endless reserves of laughter in her, she was snapping her fingers rapidly, probably because she couldn't clap her hands, that laugh was infectious, it would gurgle and make you smile big.

— Pe tine cum te cheamă?

- You know I like your name! she waved and hesitated for a moment. Do you have anything against calling me Joseph too?

- No, I shrugged, but that's a boy's name.

- Oh! she exclaimed in disappointment.

- What do your parents, colleagues, friends call you?

- Nobody calls me, never ... Only the caretakers tell me from time to time, "Riaeai right by the vegetable!" Ah, that's it! — and the tropot started merrily again. My name is Vegetable!

I understood and images that I had forgotten came to mind: Are you staying in... the orphanage of the P.C.R.? The one by the headquarters?

A big place with bars on the windows, smelly and damp, with barbed wire on the fence.

- I don't know, she simply shrugged. But it's a boring place, I don't really have anyone to talk to, except Dănuţ, but he's a eater and a half, he makes candies and treats all day long. I talk to the others too, but some don't hear me, and those who hear me get scared, so I gave up, I like talking to the dogs, they hear me and I play with them, we run together, at lunch we sing: "Happy childhood/ Through the care of the beloved party/ Turututu...", I also sing with them, you know, I have a flower of my own, I asked Dănuţ to give me some sugar, because sugar is good for flowers, I tried to I talk to the nurses, but they are as strong as the walls and they don't hear me...

- Who? I asked, bewildered by the avalanche of details.

- Children, when we sing. You know, they shake the back of their necks, like you, I can't do that, but I also sing with them, no one hears me, except Dănuț. Aren't we looking at the stars?

I had completely forgotten about my poor stars.

— The vegetable. It's a… beautiful name.

I was pretty damn unconvincing, so I quickly added:

- But a bit long. I'll call you Uma, okay?

"Uma?" that laughter and the cascade of explosions followed again. Uma, Uma, Uma... See what Grivei will like, he will wag his tail, he will be happy, Grivei is not a dog, he is a horse, I wanted to give him oats, but Dănuţ given only sugar, yes he likes sugar too. Grivei brings us the meal, Dănuţ will not like Uma, what if, Dănuţ only likes candies and...

I was standing on the edge of the block. Uma was going round and round in my head, no one had talked to me like that before, it was good to have a friend to look at the stars with, after a while Uma was silent, she asked me where the stars were, I told her that usually upstairs and in the Bucharest night we looked at them, and Uma and I, we looked at each other for a long time, although we had noticed from the beginning that her forehead ended at the base of her nose.

***

The situation in Romania (period 01.01.2016 — 01.01.2017) (…):

— birth rate 20.4 ‰

— mortality 102.8 ‰

— infant mortality 15.6‰

— congenital malformations in newborns 76.3‰ [...]"

(Report OMS — pp. 362… 364)

***

— Bleah!

I looked up at her and shrugged.

- You told me to read to you... He had asked me to read aloud to him, I only had one book with me now, it was also old and a little burnt, I had found it on the road, I could have sworn that he won't like it. Uma was tired, she had gone I don't know where, "to talk to some children", she said "children" regardless of whether it was the members of an old people's home or sparrows, but I was curious to see what was next, so I continued:

— Planing represents the cutting process resulting from the combination of a main, rectilinear, alternative movement...

- Bleah! she interrupted me again.

I looked at her and smiled. She was super nice, we had become good friends, not a day passed without Uma appearing next to me, now she was standing under one of the huge posters that littered the city. "150 years since the birth of Tătucului" screamed the red letters and the Georgian mustache dressed in uniform was smiling at me from there.

"It's just disgusting!" It's better to say "skinning", to be more suggestive. Sliver! he snorted. He rose smoothly and floated towards an abandoned bodywork in a ditch, drowned in dust and rust.

"Have you ever felt a piece of wrought metal?" Do you know what he does? Cry! She was cut, bent, burned, beaten, only to sit in a stupid position!

It touched the bodywork and pulled back suddenly as if it was burning.

- Cold! she reinforced.

"It has to serve a purpose... That's technology..." I had spoken slowly, feeling a little guilty, as if I had designed that body that sat in its stupid position, lying to one side, like a maid that no one knew he doesn't need it anymore. This is its purpose, it is made to help man...

- To help man... Man must help himself! Uma cut me short. All the monstrosities he created, tormenting everything around, are only his own crutches. Only experiments, only particular cases, but they are his crutches, right? He kisses them, polishes them, is proud of them, thinks about how to make them more elegant, more comfortable, how to have as few errors as possible, how to make them cheaper and so on... When it would be much simpler to throw them away and to walk on their own two feet.

- Yes, but that's how it's been done so far... Think of an invalid! You can't ask a disabled person to simply throw away their crutches. Maybe he no longer has the strength to use his legs and then, in order to still move, crutches are also good.

It had begun to get bloody evening, the semi-darkness mixed with the red light coming from the huge star above the Intercontinental, and Uma's face had sharpened, had acquired sharper contours.

— The problem is not that he can no longer use his legs, the problem is that he does not even know that there could be legs. How he encounters a new situation, how he clings to his beloved crutches... However, it could happen that, by clinging to crutches, we no longer solve anything, something else appears, something else entirely special, that overcomes us not only the power of solving, but also the power of understanding. So far, what have I done? Do we want to fly? We make cars! Do we want to go fast? We make cars! Do we want to get energy? We make cars! Do we want to make cars? Well, first let's make the machines building machines!... Children are born with crutches and, if one of them realizes that they can use their legs, then it is classified as abnormal, the label is put: "parapsychology" and suddenly that is no longer the case. nobody cares!

Uma had wrapped herself up, started to float slowly up, like a pink balloon, it looked exactly like a balloon, not necessarily pink, why pink I didn't know and I thought that if I bit her nose, she would squeal.

— The brain, that's the most wonderful machine and it doesn't need props! We must let him run freely. Free! We would like to visit the galaxies, but it costs money, and the speed of light is only 300,000 kilometers per second, ouch ouch! it would take a life, wouldn't it be better to stare at the sky? We just crawled to the moon on crutches, didn't we? What else could be different in other parts? And anyway, if something new appears, we'll see what we do. We would like to see the depth of the Earth, but the deepest drillings have barely scratched the crust, ouch, ouch! if only we could make better tools We'd like to get inside the atom, but we need bigger cyclotrons, oh, oh! if we could build one as big as the whole Earth... All these are just crutches in the brain and no one understands that they can help us climb a mountain, but they will never be able to help us fly...

— Şi-atunci?

- And then?! the pink balloon almost bounced up. We just have to understand! That's all, let's understand! Everything is in us and in what surrounds us. There is something, a power, a force, it is everywhere, but it lies latent. It is enough for us to want something and she will answer us. Do we want energy? The energy will actually flow to where we need it, without the need for fuel. Do we want the impossible? There is only the word "impossible", the rest is limitation. Perpetuum mobile? You can not! Principle I and II! Do not try for nothing, because it is not possible! We have to understand that these are just customizations and nothing more. You can't, but under certain conditions. You have to know how to want a perpetuum mobile, to realize that this power exists, to understand it. "Ununderstood because it is inactive, but inactive because it is misunderstood." Uma was silent for a moment. Do we want to move faster? Do we want to fly?

It disappeared for a fraction of a second from my side and reappeared with a tiny flower.

— Thought has no speed.

I took the flower, it smelled vaguely, it smelled of life, of fragility, of Uma. I don't know where he got it from, it had been a mild winter, but anyway it was too cold for that flower.

- What you want means change... it means to change the course of history, to go back the way we came, to get there, to the intersection, where maybe we went wrong and to start on another road, which road can be wrong too... and just like that, an infinity of attempts. Isn't that a lot? I asked her, I was playing with her flower, which smelled of sadness when she answered me:

- Yes, it means change... A fundamental change, which is the hardest. It means changing mentalities, structures, people. We must not go back the way we came, we must tear down the walls that separate us from other roads. We now have, compared to the intersection, compared to the beginnings, the advantage that we grew up on the road. The technology created is also good, but it must help us perceive the walls, break them, not be spectacles.

"So the invalid's crutches should be used to break down walls?"

Uma agreed silently.

- But what if the invalid doesn't want that, if he knows that the walls are strong and thinks it's not worth the effort? Why not go his way?

- Because there might be a dead end somewhere, and there the crutches won't be of any use. The further you go, the thicker the walls become. He will have to return, and this will require an exhausting effort, because the road will then be very long. And the effort might knock him down on the way back…

- You know, there is a proverb: "You teach an old horse in vain to walk in a bridle", or something like that. "Maybe" is not a word that will make our invalid break down his walls, "maybe" is something so distant that no one pays attention to it. And the possibility of a dead end is so improbable and abstract that no one gives a second thought to it. This is!

- It's a possibility, not a threat. But every possibility has a degree of fulfillment... Yes, you're right! nodded Uma, our invalid is an 'old horse'. The foals have to learn to walk "in the litter" and it's not about biological age, it's about people who have that "something" that allows them to realize that there are other paths. We all need to get together, not physically, but in other ways, let's say spiritually, to exchange information, to learn to be friends with each other, to see how we can change everything. Let's make a school, a school for all!

- A school??? I exclaimed, the word automatically causing me to vomit.

- Yes. A school! A real school, where anyone can come with pleasure, a school with real teachers, a school that does much more than imparting knowledge. To form People.

It was quiet for a while, the night had fallen, the cold had also set in, there was a diffuse noise in the air, of speeding cars, fir trees, globes, Christmas, non-existent snowflakes.

- You see, we were lucky to be born like this, added Uma, I was playing with the flower, it fell out of my hand, I concentrated, picked it up and grinned sarcastically.

- Always when I look in a mirror I realize how lucky I was!

- It's about what everyone hides under the coat... I felt a little sorry, I was gabbing like a fool, but Uma was indifferent, I repeat, we were lucky to be born differently, with legs. The change must start from us and not from the two of us, but from those like us. If we learn from each other, maybe in the end our generation will be different, maybe we will convince others that the stars are not just glimmers in the sky, that the earth is not just something we walk on, that some things are much more different than they seem at first glance. But for that we need each other, we need to be together with those like us...

"I think you got excited too quickly." He didn't say anything, he just listened. OK, fine! We stick together, perfect! But for a bunch of children to change the system, to alter the whole structure, even peacefully, by teaching others, to introduce something new into this mammoth groaning with old age, excuse me, but this is madness! The stars are not stars, the earth is not earth... Well, take a man from the street and tell him, for example, that... I got a little confused, then I saw the body again... that iron is not iron! and there will be two possibilities: either this will not interest him at all, for him it is all the same whether the iron is iron or copper, or he will have a very clearly fixed opinion and will take you for a fool. For him, iron is iron and that's it! HOW can you prove that he is wrong?

Uma suddenly disappeared, I thought she was angry, but she appeared quickly, she had brought some stainless steel, a piece of iron-concrete and some shavings, I didn't say anything, I just looked at her, she crouched down, caressed the metal, she softened it, the metal flowed, rippled, molded on her hands, I watched fascinated, I couldn't tear my eyes away from there, it was something hypnotic. Uma finished, floated towards me and kissed me on the cheek:

- Happy Birthday!

Ah yes, December 21st! My birthday. I looked at my gift, he blew his trunk in surprise, I think he was surprised, he was seeing the city for the first time, it was cold, but he was moving slowly trying to fly, I looked sometimes at him, sometimes at Uma. Uma smiled at me and then I smiled too, it was a wonderful gift.

Uma wanted to name him losif, but I told him that losif Vissarionovici and I are enough. So I named him James.

***

It was once upon a time, that if it wasn't, it wouldn't be told, in a land far, far away from here, across seven seas and seven countries, long ago, when the flea danced with the elephant, while the lambs they were playing with the wolves, while the sheep were running away from the lions of their hides, there lived in that country a queen and a king.

They had everything they wanted, lived in wonderful castles, slept on down pillows and ate the choicest foods, but with all that they were unhappy because they couldn't have children. The king had made a noise in the country and the greatest healers and doctors came to the palace, but they only shook their beards for a long time and left as they came.

One night, there was a loud knock at the castle gate. When the guards opened, a hideous beggar asked to be taken to the king. The king received her in the great hall of the palace, and there the beggar proposed an exchange: the queen would become pregnant, if all the story books were burned, if laughter was forbidden throughout the kingdom, and if no one, ever, he would no longer dream. "But how do I do that?" asked the puzzled king. "I'll take care of it..." grinned the beggar. “Your majesty only needs to agree…”

The king wanted an heir more than anything in the world, so he said to her: "If the queen remains pregnant, you have my word that your requests will be granted..." A demonic laugh then echoed throughout the castle and all the torches went out . When the soldiers lit them in place, the beggar had disappeared and no one noticed the snake that crept out of the throne room.

Shortly thereafter, heavy clouds appeared over the kingdom. Little by little, everything became grey, meaningless, the country was filled with crying and nightmares, people began to frown, children no longer had sparkles in their eyes, but were yellow and drawn, the happy songs disappeared, and love did not his goal was more than money.

The beggar rubbed her frog-skinned hands contentedly. She was no ordinary woman, but the Force Fairy herself, and now no one could stand against her. The good fairies were forced to flee, because they can only live where there is joy...

Before running away, however, a fairy hid her most precious treasure, the All-Seeing Mirror, under a stone and said: "Whoever finds this mirror and understands why it was left there, he will know what to do to defeat the Force Fairy." And the good fairies left, leaving behind sadness and dryness.

At the palace, the queen was indeed pregnant, but when the king heard the news, he could no longer rejoice. He remained clouded and silent, as he had become since the meeting that night. And the king had good reason to frown. On top of all the misfortunes, the most terrible of them had arrived: the war. At the borders of the country, the barbarians from the north had gathered, as many as leaves and grass, encouraged by Zâna de Sila, whose faithful subjects they were.

The fight lasted for endless days and nights. The king's little army resisted bravely, but when the fate of the battle seemed undecided, the Fairy was forced to use her spells. From the bowels of the earth came death-bringing mushrooms, which anyone who looked at them was cursed forever. The king's army was defeated, and he was killed in battle. Wailing and darkness then engulfed the land, for all hope had disappeared.

The queen was mowing sadly in a palace balcony, when an enchanted mushroom shot up into the sky. Looking at her, he felt the claw of the curse gripping his body and knew that the little prince would also be bewitched. To at least protect his heart, he covered his face in a talisman, blessed him with the power of motherly love and brought the little life into the world with the sacrifice of his own life. Crying like a child, he rose above the country overrun by barbarians...

The years passed, and the prince, who had received the name of losif, after a god of the barbarians, grew in one month as others grew in three. He was troubled, because the people around him were mean and cold as stones. His heart had been protected by the spell of the Fairy of Strength, so he always asked: "Aren't the stars beautiful?". "Which stars?", people also asked, then they beat him. "Isn't the sky beautiful?" he asked. "Which one am I asking for?" people also asked, then they beat him. "Why are you hitting me?" he asked. "Because you are different from us!" people answered and beat him again. But the talisman protected him, and he continued to look at the stars and the sky.

One fine day, Prince Joseph found the mirror left by the good fairy in the middle of a road. Many had tried to look into it, but the enchanted mirror showed them as they really were, and they could not look away. The prince raised it from the dust and saw there a wonderful country with happy people, a country where everyone felt happy, where there was neither sadness, nor malice, nor pain.

"This place exists somewhere..." a voice was then heard.

The prince turned and asked impatiently, "Where? I want to get there too!"

"That's up to you," replied the flower.

He bent down and stroked her. "You're beautiful!"

"I am a flower" said the flower. "Once there were millions and this world seemed brighter. Now I'm just me."

"Can you tell me how to get there?"

"I don't know, but maybe our queen, Miss Uma, knows. "

"And where do I find your queen?" asked the prince.

"Let yourself be guided by your heart...". And the flower disappeared. He understood then that he had been the good fairy, he looked in the mirror once more and started on his way.

And our prince walked a long, long way, a long time, until, finally, he met the queen of flowers. Miss Uma was crying, all her flowers had died and he felt pity. He asked her not to cry, because there were many flowers in the country where they had to reach.

"Don't you want to come with me?" he asked her. "Look, it's a wonderful country...". Miss Uma wiped her tears. "It's really our world. This is how it looked before the Force Fairy cast her spells".

The prince felt a little confused, then said:

“Then we must seek out the fairy and break the spell. When people will again be cheerful and good at heart, then the flowers will also appear".

"I know where the fairy is," said the flower lady. "In the Cave of Nothing. But it's very dangerous to go there, the fairy turns anyone who approaches into a stone shack."

"Yes, but when you have a friend by your side, spells can't get you. Come with me? "

And they set off together towards the Cave of Nothing. The further they went, the creepier the land became. Hundreds of stone stalls stood on the road, they were the brave men who had tried to defeat the fairy. A terrible cold was slowly descending. "It's from her heart! ” the young lady trembled, but they went on holding hands, until they reached a huge hole resembling a dragon's mouth and went down there.

The cave was deep, and they walked, kept walking, until they reached the abode of the Fairy of Strength.

"What are you doing here?" the evil fairy hissed angrily when she saw them and tried to turn them both to stone, but they were holding hands and the spell didn't catch them.

"You came to tell us how to heal people!" said the prince bravely and took out his mother's talisman.

“No, back, back! ” the fairy retreated in horror.

"Tell us" said Miss Uma. The fairy continued to dodge the talisman's path, but they advanced without fear.

"Mercy!" she moaned. "I tell you, but hide that thing..."

The prince stopped: "Say!"

"You must take stardust..." mumbled the fairy. "And scatter into the air..."

"Where do we find stardust?" they asked. "Beyond time... in Tomorrowland... I can't anymore... mercy!". Gradually the contours of the fairy dissolved. "Aaahhh!" she howled again, then disappeared.

There was a great bang then, and they awoke to the surface.

"The Sila Fairy is no more" the Losif prince breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yes, but the spell remains," said the lady. "We have to rid people of the spell as well." They looked into each other's eyes. "That's why we have to go to the Land of Tomorrow."

"Yes, we must..." they smiled and started slowly, hand in hand, there...

***

- Nice... Uma was silent while I was telling the story, which was an achievement for her.

- Did you like it? the question was useless, I knew he liked it, but I was only asking like that, out of the vanity of the author who wants to be praised.

- Yes Yes!

He came to me and caressed me.

- A lot of everything!

I was playing with the talisman, with my dear and faded picture, as if my chest capacity had doubled, I felt so good...

- However, she said, I think the Force Fairy tricked us. The place we're looking for doesn't exist yet, we have to build it ourselves.

I solemnly declared:

- Yes, but it's an enchanted place! If you have to build it, it means you want it. If you want it, it's there somewhere. And if there is, you have to look for it!

Uma didn't say anything for a while.

"And they ended up in Tomorrowland?"

— The story doesn't say that anymore, but I think so...

Above us, the stars calmly waited for the moment when they would be crushed and scattered in the air.

***

On the Academy it is light as day, I jump over puddles, advertisements color everything, rats maddened by the polychrome avalanche get tangled between the legs of passers-by, fairs are held, everything your muscles want, inflatable women, old skis, cocaine, electronics, party cards, non-inflatable women, passports, clothes, tired cars, Chinese cans, but no weapons, it's the law, the weapons fair is separate, a few streets further, next to the Police. A gypsy was shouting in my ear, trying to convince me: "Come on, scumbag, I'll eat you, clean alms, half a giga-n hard, cheap as braga!". After a while, I give up and hear him behind me, tormenting other ears: "Come on Barosane..."

I slip through the crowd, the sharp smells of human sweat, of negotiations, of swearing, of quick, fine fingers. I avoid a few stalls and reach a freer area, it's a little bit further home, I have a few books under my arm, I bought them from the antique store and some food from the canteen. Uma will be happy, on the way some fools had attacked me: "Look what a broken condom can do! Hi Limbric, do you have a cigarette?” I'm sick and tired of smart jokes on me, so I made them fight each other. It has just rained, the air is pleasant, clean and cool, it's a beautiful evening.

I turn the corner and see the Cobras. There are three; while Uma swings smoothly, one of them gives her a gentle swing, and the other two spray my villa with gasoline. They have fun too...

The cobras. They are famous for their characteristic of the group, each one has a cobra grafted under their belly, where everyone else has grafted from mother nature usually something else. They are extremely dangerous. With a Cobra, wherever you go you get good money without problems, but bounty hunters don't bother, it's too risky.

In a corner, James lies crushed, I look at Uma and something seems to explode in my stomach, I pull a metal bar from a fence, what I have in me now is not anger, it's something colder than liquid air, I triple muscle strength, the crowbar is just a cane stick and the cold bubbling inside gushes out of my mouth. I roared like an animal, the head of the first one cracked, the melon split in two, the third one was under my control, I saw him in those moments staring blankly, and the second one didn't get to do anything anymore, because I took out the bar from a porridge and put it in his mouth. Horcăie, he probably doesn't think it's aesthetic how it comes out of the back of his head, I let him express his artistic considerations a little and falls heavily. The remaining cobra continues to stare blankly. Under him the snake curls up, my anger hasn't passed in the slightest, he hisses restlessly, the inhuman coldness in me is still the same, so I raise the crowbar again. Guiţă, wriggling on the floor, won't have a place to graft even a worm, I take him under control again, so he gets up, takes the can with what's left of gasoline and calmly sets himself on fire.

I drop the bar and throw up, I'm exhausted, after everything is over there's only something huge and painful left that prevents me from swallowing, I feel deserted, I'm just an animal that killed other animals. Uma sways further in the wind, sways impassive.

I pick James up from the floor, I patted him mechanically, my eyes stayed fixed on the creaking rope, I had just talked the night before, "when people don't understand something, they get scared and do everything they can to escape" he said Uma. "Flee or destroy." The system had unconsciously defended itself, like any being trying to preserve its integrity.

The cobras had been nothing more than his tools, some children who were thinking of changing something, the overwhelming immobile part of the social jellyfish had perhaps sensed that someone was standing against the current. Children can gather more, they become big people, the transition to another level would have been too sudden and the complex, wonderful, irreplaceable society had reacted promptly, the jellyfish had felt, felt somehow, and now I sit and look at Uma. She has a slightly surprised expression, she didn't understand even at the last moment what was happening, everything had been too immediate, too violent, I'm afraid to cut the rope as if losing the vertical position would kill her completely, the lump in her throat grows, threatening to it suffocates me, and then crying frees me. I'm ashamed, big boy, but I can't stop, I'm on my knees laughing, the rain is pouring, pouring. Uma also cries with me, the tears flow smoothly down her cheeks, but the liquid in my eyes is a secondary phenomenon, the main one is the pain that cracks me in two.

- All... all... Mother. James, Uma... I mutter, I can't see anything anymore, I can't see the rubble, the corpses, the city, this city that stole everything from me, I hate it, decrepit old man... Can't it be otherwise?! You always defend so well, always win?! Are you always tidying up your garden, always trimming the tops?! Do I have to get in line too?! he roared skyward.

The hands unconsciously knead the mud on the floor. Yes, your majesty, yes, mad god, yes, I will be like the others, I promise, I promise not to be different. You beat me, now the only thing I will do, will be to take revenge, to take terrible revenge! Are you happy, god? do you like it that way To take revenge on everyone!

Uma continues to cry, calm, I can see her through the water curtain, what would you do? I look hard around, familiar places, rain, don't we look at the stars? rain. James is full of mud, water, you're going to rust, don't move anymore, Uma doesn't move either, yes, the wind, the rain, the picture got wet and she and I got wet, yes?, flowers, candy mangled James. The Silas Fairy, rain, rain, rain... Prince Losif and...

I stand up like I'm made of stone, don't cry, I'm ashamed of what I said, Uma, I'm ashamed, no, he didn't beat me, but I'm so alone, I only have a wet picture and two bodies baby, stop crying, Uma, but Uma is still crying and rocking. Uma is playing…

"No, god, you didn't beat me!"

I'm stumbling, the mud is holding me, you want to stop me, don't you? You won't stop me and you won't beat me and I won't even be alone anymore. Because I'm going after her. I will bring it back…

"I'll bring her back..." I repeat in front of Uma.

I look at the rope and the little body falls, horrifying howl, I hold her in my arms, we both lie down, it's raining on us, it's raining. Slowly, very slowly, the rapture grows fainter, the noise recedes, it's far away now, far, far away... I'm looking, it appears like a flash... light... light... is it born somewhere... is she coming towards me or me towards her?... and I suddenly dive there, where there is neither space nor time, in the tubular rainbow. Uuummmmmm…

***

I wake up with a terrible headache, I was at risk of going crazy, I had exceeded my limits. They could punish me, but they didn't, my head hurts, my brain, my eyes, everything hurts, but it doesn't matter anymore, I'm still clutching the limp corpse, I'm covered in mud and dirty, but no , it doesn't matter anymore, because I hear a pleasant, warm voice, which anoints you as if on the inside of your skull, a dear voice:

"Good morning!"

I'd like to kiss her, but I can't, I'm getting up, ugh! I made it, I made it, I want to hug her but I can't, I look down, in the mud, caress the little body, I'll bury it later, but it doesn't matter anymore, so I simply say:

— Good morning, Uma!

***

Dusk floats reddish in us, we stand where we first met, we are above, above the jerky thunder, above the deafening thuds of explosions, below is death and noise, here it is only us and the silence and the dying sun.

"It is not the eye that must be opened, but the vision

shout:

It is not the ear that needs to be picked

the music of the world uses the ears

like the one who knocked

the wall or the trunk of the tree".

And only below is death and noise, here is the light of Nichita's soul in the twilight, floating in us, so quiet...

"And now?" Uma asks.

"And now?" James the patched also seems to be looking at me questioningly.

We will leave together...

"Together..."

"Together?" James' patches marveled.

- There, Uma. In Tomorrowland.

"Yes, yes, yes..." James nods as if approvingly, shakes his wings a little and, like any butterfly, begins to fly.