The two frowns, unused to Milan giving them orders. But something in his attitude, his words and his demeanor drives them to obey him wordlessly and with complete trust.
They both leave, leaving Milan on the roof of the car.
Left alone, in his realm with a new wall, he frees himself from his restraint and self-imposed firmness, throws off those shackles like a knight throws off his bloody armor after the tournament, falls to his knees, curses his fate, and begins to tremble. He gets out, crawls into the vehicle, curls up like a fetus in the womb, and releases his own monsters from the subconscious, monsters woven from fears, hopes, and efforts, and falls asleep with them.
Milan, rifle in hand on the Passat seat, dreams of the car "lift in his former workshop, of his wife's smile and a r
