We find a cool radiola, I used to have one like that in my childhood—on four high legs, in a wooden case with a glass screen on which you can read the names in red of all the cities under the sun, cities that I dreamed of in my childhood and which could hear me—Prague, Warsaw, Belgrade, East Berlin, on a cool radiola like this you can listen to vinyl and radio, in my childhood I listened to scratched vinyl, but this jerkoff doesn’t have vinyl, to be sure he does have some old Soviet Beatles, but what are Vasia and I—total losers, to listen to the Beatles, and in this hallucinatory state when things fall apart and scents, by contrast, stick together, and it’s simply impossible to make sense of it all, we begin to turn the dial on the radio, the cool radiola crackles sadly, and suddenly we h
