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There was so much noise in my life, Zizu thought and walked down the path, which was merely an unbroken little line, a silence that stretched in the grass. “Landmines in forest,” the writing with thick careless letters on a piece of tin stayed behind and he began to run through the thick grass, which was warm and soft like a fur coat. The soldiers’ voices gradually died away. He was running and looking back, terrified that the shadow running after him like a helpless puppy would catch up with him, fall under his feet, and throw down his body. Panting, he conquered the prickly hillock, stood at the top, put his hand on his burning chest, and looked. Below, a spruce, magnificent and sad, sprawled in the open space. He stood for a long time. He caught his breath and anxiously turned his
