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When I was a child, they used to call me the "sad robot." I lived in South America, in a place full of smooth, rounded mountains without sharp peaks that could puncture balloons and dreams. Later on, as an adult, I moved to Europe, specifically to Moscow, Russia. And I can tell you that Russia is eternally cold. I found a job at a furniture company in the accounting department. But South America never left my mind. It was there that I sought a temporary refuge, to take a break from the depressing and oppressive world where each of us had to endure as a salaried office worker.
In Moscow, I managed to climb the corporate ladder, reaching the top among the office employees. By then, I had already developed a special fascination for literature. I remember reading Vila-Matas and dreaming of one day being able to plagiarize famous writers. But my career as a failed writer never truly began because, shortly after starting my first novel, I was struck by what’s called Montano's Malady. That was when I decided to leave the furniture company and enlist in the Russian special forces.
==> END OF ENCRYPTION ©️ All wbknl's content licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 (share with attribution, no commercial, no remix)