... Those who took on the role of God also endorsed the deaths-punishments of their memories. Death of individuals from a liquid, immeasurable past, as humorous as it is terrifying, clinging to the late 1940s.
Back when Marika Suez's troupe toured with madness and self-sacrifice through the healing springs of a war-torn Greece. For Stathis, who was nearing sixty, with a Clint Eastwood-like stature, as befits a surviving hero, all this was a puzzle. But no matter how lightly he took it, secured in his lukewarm present, continuing to meticulously publish his beekeeping magazine alone - part of this chain adventure - he had to enter the logic of fear and the "particulars" of a deliberately forgotten period. Perhaps the most uncontrollably unruly. Full of passion, irrational violence, loves, performances with rhyming dramas, like "The Virgin Punishes the Kremlin" - phosphorescent riddles in the eyes of a little boy eager to grow up. Thus, the dangerous crack in the "healing" past opened, simultaneously letting in winds with truths and hysterical emotions, laden with the accolades of love, hate, and the great nostalgia that weaves the skin of restless sleep.