Tracery
I knocked on the window. An elderly man opened the door. With a gesture he let me
in and offered me a seat. I sat on the edge of a chair and the man eased himself into
an armchair. My interlocutor took out a notebook with a pencil and started to write
down my words. "My name is Hasim Ravenell", - I started my story. "In my life I
happened to be a passer-by, a freight forwarder, a fluorographer and now I am your
companion".
"Have you got any red wine for me?" - I asked him. The man responded negatively.
"May be you can tell me who is putting ads on every other utility pole?" - I
interrogated him. He again answered negatively. Right beside there was an
extinguished fireplace, lacking logs. I flew through it and into the chimney. The
house was in a dense forest, I landed in a tree and then got into a big bush with red
berries.
One good turn deserves another
I was always indebted to my wife and the government.
Alive and kicking
I was sobering up. I barfed and got on my skis. My vomit was eaten by rats.
A second in a duel
Back in the day, when everything was in equilibrium: I wore a cylinder hat, roamed
the earth, was a second and ate truffles.
Teenager
I was accumulating knowledge from neon signs and shop names.