Trafika Europe 13 - Russian Ballet

A Light in the Night

– I, – replied Ilya Ilych, – aber sehr schlecht. – Aber schäbig, – corrected the dandy, and added, more to himself: – We’ll manage, I think… – I am Russian, actually, – said Ilya Ilych. – Wow, homie! – the dandy was sincerely overjoyed. – Well, that makes it easier. Because – you never know who is going to turn up around here. Each mumbling in his own tongue, it’s just awful, can’t make out a single word half the time… – I broke a few things… – admitted Ilya Ilych guiltily, pointing at the evidence of his destruction. – Meh!... It doesn’t matter… – the dandy waved his hands carelessly. He walked over to the sentry who was still guarding the ruined gate, and turned him into rubble with a kick. – See, it isn’t holding, six months and there will be nothing left. Byproduct is all that’s left of it. – What’s that? – Byproduct? See the dust? That’s the byproduct. Once it decomposes entirely, it will turn back into nihil. Ilya Ilych nodded, quietly noting the word “nihil”. Apparently that’s what they called the grey nothingness that spread out all around them. A fitting word, to be sure, clearly made up by a person not indifferent to philosophy and the Latin language.

285