14
The crowd of elderly children was cheerfully clapping their hands. In their sad eyes, at the very top, in the blue or green, in grey or in dark brown, there was hope. But instead of wisdom, disappointment came every year. Trained not to live, but to adjust, honest ones only smiled mysteriously when someone young asked about the meaning of life. Under mysteriousness, they always hid confusion. For several decades, they waited for the moment of control and clarity but obtained only debts and wrinkles. They would be happy to weep in the evenings from impotence in the silk sleeves of their pyjamas, but instead, they had cheap synthetics, and behind the wall – even lesser people who needed to be convinced that adults knew this life as well as their palms. In most cases, they uttered the phr
