"That's why I got confused, I lost it when I heard my uncle, Plato, saying 'The bastard went crazy', and immediately, 'They say it was the heroin that drove him crazy at the Party', and he added that he threatened Sianto and Partsalidis (the leaders of the KKE, whom Uncle Plato adored like saints and when he pronounced their names, his voice even softened) that he would come down to Athens to cut their throats."

My soul is painted blue and red, like that of my homeland, with its blue and red children. When the faces and events that marked my life began to emerge agonizingly in my memory, I thought it would be a shame for them to be lost, as the moment approaches when I will cross the threshold of nonexistence. So I wrote this novel, using my experiences from the Occupation, the Civil War, and the years of the Antiparochi that followed, as other worthy writers of Thessaloniki did before me, so that this era does not remain only a field of study for younger historians, who with their cold scientific methodology will record it in the annals of our recent History."

The faces and events that I narrate are mostly true, although I cannot say with certainty - especially after so many years - at which points or to what extent reality gave way to fiction. The technique I followed is based on the description of many, almost autonomous, incidents that complete the mural or mosaic of each period.

I hope that the representation of those times will bring the difficult times to life in the memory of the older generation and will be useful to the younger generation in understanding an era they can't even imagine.

P.S.