Trafika Europe 4 - Armenian Rhapsody

trading in time stolen from other people’s bodies like super expensive drugs.

Everything suddenly went out of control. And there was nothing left for the authorities to do except to recognize the fact that there was civil war on the streets, just instead of machine guns, chronomatizers were operating. And there was no end to this war, because the greed for time is continually fertilized by the passage of time itself, and no one ever will be satisfied by enough everlasting youth, and no one will ever renounce their desire to freeze their biological age at its apogee.

The authorities couldn’t cope with this battle. So they began to profit from it instead.

September 2041

THE YOUNG ELDERLY

Torne jumped across the fence of the small playground, from which agonizing moans were echoing. He tidied up the strands of gray hair dropping over his brow and strained his weakened eyesight. On the artificial playing surface, two old men in jerseys with the names and numbers of basketball stars were in agony. An abandoned basketball sat between them. Streetlights glowed weakly, from time to time emitting a neurotic hum. Torne looked

90