Trafika Europe 4 - Armenian Rhapsody

back in every direction and carefully pulled out the shabby looking chronomatizer from his raincoat.

One of the old men weighed at least a hundred and fifty kilograms. His jersey stuck out under the pressure from the mass of fat on his body and rose up, kind of like a girl’s tube top, over his belly. His face began to turn a deep blue. His heart was beginning to give out, Torne concluded, when he placed the bore of the chronomatizer to his immense body. A spark flashed beneath the translucent covering on the instrument. And the display of the chronomatizer read:

Time relative to birth date: 68 years, 40 days

Time actually lived: 12 years, 89 days

“They’re ‘zeroing’ children again,” Torne spit out bitter phlegm. The other boy had the wrinkled face of an old beggar, his eyes sank, his legs twisted along the ground. From far off a police siren began to drone. Torne put away the chronomatizer and took off running – all he needed was for them to accuse him. After a hundred meters he turned the corner and clutched his chest. After catching his breath a bit, he slowly began to move along the walls. After being forced to give a donation of his own biotime to his wife, he just couldn’t get used to his new age – 54. His reflexes and movements remained youthful, but his body was no longer able to cope with them.

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