Trafika Europe 13 - Russian Ballet

Val Votrin

read a story in the newspaper which said that the time of the invasion of the Magog had already dawned, that their invasion is immanent. In it, a number of scientists presented their predictions and came to the conclusion that, in the coming years, this invasion is inevitable. Many of Giovanni’s friends were earnestly preparing for it. He himself planned to escape to the place of his birth, into the mountains on the border with another country of the Ogon. It was possible, he explained, to hide there for many months. Perhaps the Magog will not find him there. For it is well-known that they live in the valleys and orient themselves poorly in the mountains. He will head higher up in the mountains, where there are small villages. In one of these, he will wait out their assault. I sat there and listened to him, not believing my own ears. How often had I heard this earlier, heard it from childhood, but these were stories told around the familial hearth, tales of the coming great valor, of the bravery of heroes, of the huge, soiled in sin cities of Ogon, which it was our duty to destroy and exterminate all those living in them. But I had never the occasion to hear of myself so, from the side, to hear it told in this way. For I was of them, one of theirs — one of those whom they feared. And listening to Giovanni, I suddenly understood that I was living in a city that was doomed to be wiped from the face of the earth. And I was also filled with dread. When? —the question now colored with a new meaning


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