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Short Story by Liana Margiva
Long time ago, in the deepest depth of infinite and mysterious space, two gigantic planets, Art and Dream, rotated slowly amidst a legion of smaller celestial bodies. The two giants hated each other deeply, and each tried to destroy the other in a perpetual quest for planetary domination.
For some reason , Earthlings assume there are no oceans or seas in outer space. This misconception is typical for the individuals who dwell upon planets shaped and colored like bright Easter eggs, and, in fact, know little about space. They have no clue that other planets and - even entire planetary systems - may have the same earthly stuff they are used to seeing around them on a daily basis.
Thus, Art and Dream were separated by a vast body of water – the Great Ocean. Moreover, stars shone upon them and birds flew over them just like on Earth.
On Art , people assumed that only work brings true happiness, and that without work a man can’t ever be whole. So the inhabitants toiled from dusk until dawn, knowing there was no easy life until the grave. In the grave, one lies quietly, totally oblivious to anything above ground: good weather, bad weather – no difference; flood, fire – who cares?
The Artians bought large homes with multiple bathrooms, and each Artian had to have a room of his own. Being less civilized than Dreamers, the Artians couldn’t possibly comprehend the happiness of sharing your room with other family members, sharing your apartment with total strangers, or the bliss of sharing your kitchen and bathroom with a bunch of individuals whose names you don’t even know.
The Artians liked nice, comfy cars. Cool in the summer and warm in the winter, those cars took them to work every morning with a relaxing accompaniment of music streaming from powerful stereos. Unlike people from Dream, they were deprived of the daily pleasures of commuting from work in a bus crammed with dozens of sweaty, angry people pressed together like sardines in a tin, with string bags full of groceries in both hands, when one could lift both legs up and still not fall.
The Artians kept their money in modest one-story buildings with regular glass doors they called ‘banks’. They were absolutely convinced that if they ever wanted to withdraw their money , they’d get it instantly and with interest. They were viciously deprived of the excitement experienced by the Dreamians, who were told one day that their money had mysteriously vaporized together with the bank supervisor. Unlike careless Artians, Dreamians kept their money in monstrous fortress-like buildings with thick steel doors. Obviously, Artians were far, far less civilized than the Dreamians.
Art was inhabited by a bunch of different people, who’s appearance were comparable to that of the people of the Dream. There were blue-eyed and blond ones, dark-eyed and dark-haired ones, as well as the ones with narrow, almond-shaped eyes – similar to those of some bird species that migrated from other planets. Some Artians had fair skin – like freshly ground wheat flour - others had inky-black skin, and some were in between.
However, unlike on Dream, no one on Art could say something like, “Hey, you, black monkey!” or “Hey, you slit-eyed bastard!” On Art , people went to jail for this kind of speech on orders of the High Procurator. Therefore, to avoid punishment, Artians had to respect one another whether they liked it or not. Being more civilized, they had no freedom (like Dreamians) to yell at the top of their lungs all day long “Black monkey! Which palm tree have you dropped from?” ( Although, perhaps, they had never seen a single palm tree in their lives.) All Dream’s procurators shared this sentiment, therefore no one went to jail for uttering such words. Poor Artians had no clue such freedom existed!
The Artians were, generally, weird. For example, they wanted to know everything about everyone, and would never forgive a blunder. They couldn’t even forgive the Great Supervisor of their planet when he kissed some woman. For an entire year, they hit the streets carrying posters and screaming until their voices broke “We don’t want our Great Supervisor to kiss other women! He mustn’t forget about his wife who’s waiting for him at home every night!”
They failed to understand elementary things that any Dreamian could instantly grasp. For instance, they couldn’t figure out the simple truth that all men are alike, regardless of who they are and which planet they live on. And if Great Supervisor’s own wife didn’t mind his kissing other women, why should they?
The Artians wouldn’t leave the Dreamians alone.
‘’ Those Dreamians are way too deep into their dreams,’’ - raged the Artians, launching a missile salvo at Dream, which instantly retaliated with a salvo of its own, sometimes better missiles. During dark nights, those missiles buzzed and flared, awakening all the little planets in the system that began to voice their protest noisily:
‘’ We are scared of all this racket and glitter! We can barely make ends meet, so we don’t care who will dominate!’’
The Great Supervisor of Art finally figured out that he wouldn’t be able to ever conquer Dream. Once, upon a dark night, he gathered all his Supervisors and announced,
‘’ I’ve had a dream, a good one. Finally we can conquer Dream!’’
‘’ How? How?’’ - a chorus of bewildered but happy voices echoed.
‘’’ The new Great Supervisor of Dream has a huge mole on the tip of his nose,’’ - said the Great Supervisor, squinting one of his blue eyes.
‘’ You are saying that a pathetic little mole may accomplish more than the entire great Art?’’ a chorus of flabbergasted voices screamed.
‘’ We can not conquer the people of Dream with brutal force. Each Dreamian is prepared to give his life for his planet. They are all fanatics. But we’ll send them lots of chewing gum! he declared triumphantly.
‘’ Chewing gum?’’ echoed all Supervisors in total perplexity. ‘’ Do you really think that the people who launch their rockets into outer space may be conquered by chewing gum?’’
‘’ But of course,’’ shrugged the Great Supervisor. ‘’ They don’t have chewing gum, and the people are dreaming about it. Besides, their new Great Supervisor has a large mole on his nose, which is a heavenly sign. Our gods tell us this is our man. We’ll give him lots of money, even more than he’d ask for. Then we’ll proclaim him a hero on all planets, so loudly that he himself will believe in it. We’ll pit their peoples against one another: the fair-haired will be murdering the dark-haired and vise versa; sons would denounce their mothers because of their ‘wrong’ ethnicity. Each village will proclaim itself an independent state, and after that we’ll take them with bare hands!’’
‘’ Glory to the Great Supervisor of planet Art! Long live Art!’’ - the overwhelmed Supervisors cried out in unison.
On the stage of an enormous concert hall, a slender, handsome middle-aged man in a lemon-colored suit and with streaming curly hair was singing a sad, romantic song about yellow leaves that the wind was throwing into the hat of a musician playing Schubert. Hundreds of thousands of spectators were holding their breath listening to the beautiful voice.
All of a sudden, someone screamed in the audience, “CHEWING GUM!” Everyone raised their eyes to the ceiling from where chewing gum in bright wrappers, adorned with the portrait of Art’s Great Supervisor, began to rain in earnest. Men dressed up in their best suits and women in evening gowns all jumped from their seats, trying to catch the chewing gum. In a mad frenzy, people thrashed and fought; screams and moans came from all directions. Finally lights went out.
‘’ She is dying, help, help! What brutality, what savagery!’’ a female voice rose over the pandemonium.
‘’ Help! I’m having a heart attack!’’ an old woman was whispering in vain, trampled underfoot.
‘’...leaves, leaves instead of money...,’’ the handsome singer continued tentatively, still unsure of the reason behind the sudden collective madness of the audience.
‘’ Hey, you, quit this yellow leaves crap! Chewing gum is falling from the skies, and you keep bugging us with your stupid leaves that are not even green, but yellow!’’ an angry male voice screamed from the tangled mess of bodies.
‘’ Sure, they got their pockets stuffed with chewing gum, they can afford to sing about yellow leaves! Yeah, they keep promising us the bright future, right! We want to live today, we are tired of waiting for your bright future which just won’t arrive, will it? another male voice echoed from the left.
‘’ Long live planet Art!’’ screamed some people at the top of their lungs.
Finally the lights came on, and the commotion slowly fizzled out by itself. People rose on their feet, however some remained slumped in the chairs, and some were even lying motionless on the floor.
A troop of people with red armbands poured into the concert hall brandishing billy clubs. “Where’s the director?” they yelled. “Here I am” a man of about fifty said shyly, stepping gingerly forward. Without further ado, two men with armbands grabbed the director and began to drag him towards the exit. “Ten years in the camps - and you won’t even remember your directorship!” one of the men said sternly.
“I did nothing wrong! I’m innocent!” the man protested weakly.
“You should have anticipated this,’’ he was told. “Where was your vigilance?”
Thus, the Dreamians obtained the coveted chewing gum. People felt independent and reckless, freedom was spreading its wings over the Planet.
The new Great Supervisor, his long nose festively decorated with a large round mole, was talking about everything and nothing. People were listening to him attentively, then poured out in the streets of their cities, screaming: “Freedom!”
They stopped going to work . All they did was listen to their Great Supervisor. Plants and research centers were shutting down because one half of the people were constantly attending meetings, while the other half were not getting paid. Suddenly, out of nowhere, there popped up some people who had been drawing the same salary like everyone else. They bought all plants and research centers. People began to ridicule the past they had only recently been so proud of, and the harder they laughed, the lower they fell in the eyes of the inhabitants of other planets of the system.
Pretty soon, people had nothing but chewing gum to chew on. People with different color of hair and eyes, who had always lived peacefully together, suddenly became aware of their identities and animosities began to develop. The fair-haired ones took enormous pride in the color of their hair and their pale skin. They marched down the streets of their cities, shouting, “Down with all dark-haired bastards! Get off our planet! This is our planet, and we are the masters!”
They forgot that the dark-haired people were born on the same planet, and that their parents, and grandparents had also been born there, and they had absolutely nowhere to go. But the fair-haired ones couldn’t care less, and soon a war broke out, a horrible war. The dark-eyed people were murdering the blue-eyed ones, the fair-haired people were slaughtering the dark-haired ones. They killed, maimed and burned, and soon the great famine came to the planet.
‘’ Those who worship a six-point star are to blame for everything!’’ raved the fair-haired ones. ‘’It is they who have been destroying our planet all this time!’’ As a result, the majority of six-point star worshipers got frustrated and fled to the planet Art. There, they continued to toil day in and day out, and nobody could explain why those six-pointers, who were allegedly destroying one planet, were working so hard on another one.
Soon, scores of Dreamians flocked to Art from their home planet. Average Artians couldn’t care less who was coming to their planet and why, as long as those aliens kept their noses out of Artians’ business. Only Art’s Great Supervisor and his Council were rejoicing at the sight of formerly proud Dreamians, humiliated and happy to take up any dirty work to earn a living.
‘’ Serves you right,’’ the Great Supervisor was saying contentedly. ‘’ You’ve been dreaming a dream of universal prosperity for too long. Now you have universal tears and misery!’’ The Great Supervisor wasn’t completely right. Certain Dreamians emerged from the years of war and misery with enough stolen money to buy half their planetary system.
On a mild summer day, in a certain southern city on the planet of Art, two men were taking a leisurely swim in a large pool. Both were reasonably handsome, well-built and in their late thirties. They seemed to enjoy the exercise thoroughly, doing unhurried laps with wide, powerful strokes. Women swimmers cast interested glances in their direction, but the men didn’t seem to notice them, totally absorbed in their swimming routine. Finally, they stopped at the shallow end of the pool, leaning upon the tiled wall and breathing heavily. One after the other, they climbed up on the deck and dropped into the pool chairs under a gaily colored umbrella. They were immediately approached by a young waiter in olive shorts and Hawaiian shirt, with two frosty mugs of golden beer on a tray. Both men grabbed the mugs and thirstily gulped down the cold, effervescent beverage.
‘’Didn’t see you here at all last week. Something happened?’’ the one who was slightly taller asked the shorter one.
‘’ Worked a graveyard shift all week. Slept during the day, like a bat,’’ the shorter one replied.
‘’Working hard, huh?’’
‘’ Not really. It’s the goddamn graveyard shift that gets to you. Messes up your bio-clock pretty good.’’
‘’ So, when do you meet chicks if you work nights and sleep days?’’ the taller one queried. ‘’ Guess they jump right into your bed, huh?’’
‘’ Happened to me actually. Not recently, though. Women are kinda low on your priority list after a night shift.’’
‘’ Ouch, I wouldn’t be able to swing it. Got to do a chick a day, better yet, a different one every night. Can’t stick to one broad, never could. Diversity’s the word! Can’t figure out guys who stick to one broad, and go nuts over her. Not my kind of fun. Technically, though, all broads are alike…’’
‘’ I wouldn’t say that. There’s a woman in my building, very good-looking one. In the morning when I come home from work, she is always having tea on her balcony. At night, when I leave for work, she is listening to some nice music. She looks sad all the time somehow. Haven’t seen her wearing normal clothes. She is always wearing those long, wide gowns, you know. Weird or not, I can’t help looking at her all the time.’’ the short one mused.
‘’ Maybe she’s got an ugly body, which she’s hiding under those gowns?’’ the tall one suggested.
‘’Oh, no! I feel like spreading her on a slice of bread and stuffing her in my mouth!’’
The men lingered in their pool chairs for a while longer and, two more beers later, the shorter one left. The taller man concentrated on the swimmers in the pool ,and soon picked out one whose slender, tanned body was slicing through the emerald water with measured, almost professional aptitude. She drew him like a magnet. The tall man rose to his feet and walked to a spot where, sooner or later, she had to emerge. As soon as her head in a swimming cap appeared over the edge of the pool, he engaged her in conversation.
‘’You are quite a swimmer!’’ he commented. She responded with a tiny smile. ‘’What’s your name?’’ he asked in his sexiest voice possible. The effect was always the same. Broads went crazy for this voice.
‘’ Olivia,’’ the woman replied softly.
‘’ Oh, you must be from out of town then. We don’t have names like that here, at least I haven’t heard one yet!’’ he said excitedly.
‘’ Ah-huh,’’ the woman nodded with a smile. ‘’ You are right, I am an alien, a Dreamian.
Ah, what had she done! She called herself an alien, therefore she remained an alien in his eyes forever. She was yet to find that out. Now all she could think was “How handsome he is!” For the first time she felt happy on Art. One could only fantasize about such hunk on Dream, and here he was!
‘’ I’m Gregory,’’ the man said, extending his hand. ‘’Welcome to Art.’’
What a beautiful name, she thought happily, as her face lit up again with a smile.
‘’ Come, I’ll show you around,’’ Gregory suggested.
Olivia nodded. He was so handsome, besides, she was very well-mannered and didn’t want to hurt him with a rebuff. Gregory took her around, showed her different sites, talked about his home planet. She was listening to him with admiration and soon noted that she really liked the way Gregory touched her hand when he wanted to draw her attention to one thing or another, or when he wrapped his hand around her waist for a fleeting moment, steering her in the right direction. “I’m so lucky to be here, on Art,” Olivia mused to herself. “On my home planet, men are incapable of touching women so charmingly.’’
She was wrong again, for all men tend to be charming when they meet a woman for the first time. They parted late at night, having agreed to meet again the next day. That night Olivia went to a café where local immigrants from Dream met. She wanted to tell her friends about her happiness. The café was filled with Dreamian men and women with the same tired look on lean, pale faces.
Sitting around tables, they shared their daily problems with one another. Those men and women used to be pilots, teachers, architects and engineers on Dream. On Art they had become janitors, dishwashers and baby-sitters. They took care of the elderly, unable to help their own ailing parents; they baby-sat someone’s children, aching for their own hungry kids abandoned on their faraway home planet.
Poverty made them flee their planet in search of a better life. They were hard-working, honest folks who had but one flaw: They were incapable of stealing, and on their home planet, only those who could steal prospered. However, it wasn’t only those incapable of stealing who relocated to Art from Dream. Those Dreamians who had already stolen enough money to last generations also settled on Art, so that the misery and poverty of their planet did not hurt the psyche of their children.
Having spent a few minutes with her kind, Olivia realized that they couldn’t care less about her new love, being completely absorbed in their problems. On her way home, she stopped to visit her neighbors she sometimes ran errands for. The neighbors were an elderly couple. He was ninety, and she was eighty. They’d lived together for fifty years and now, ailing, helpless, and bedridden, they knew perfectly well that they would never get out of their beds alive.
Life with its ups and downs was already behind them, but they were not afraid to die. They had nothing to fear except one thing: Each was afraid the other one would go first. Every morning when they opened their eyes, they would steal an anxious glance at each other, trying to figure out if the spouse was still alive.
One of the walls was adorned by a large mirror, and on the wooden chest of drawers was a tall, grass-colored crystal vase with a bunch of fake dusty roses in it – as old, perhaps, as the old couple themselves. On the other end of the chest there was a portrait of the couple in a gilded frame, a faded picture of fifty years ago, when they looked young and beautiful. The old woman , propped high on her pillows, avoided looking in the mirror, but had little choice in the matter since the mirror was right across from her. Suddenly she burst out crying.
‘’ You never loved me, I aged early!’’
‘’ You are eighty, for God’s sake. It’s about time one gets old.’’ he muttered. She was about to add something else, but the old man cut in. ‘’ Just let me die in peace, woman.’’
‘’ Any idiot can die. One must live the life with dignity.’’ she said.
‘’ I’ve lived my life already. Why should I think of dignity now?’’ he wondered. Olivia was about to say something, but realized that the old people were paying no attention to her. Suddenly the old man burst out laughing, his tiny, withered body shaking under the covers.
‘’ Remember, when you first stayed overnight at my place, and washed your underwear the way you always did, so you had to go to bed wearing my pants? But then you had to remove them anyway, he-he…’’
‘’ Geepers, it’s been fifty years now! About time you dropped this one.’’ the old woman sighed.
The room fell silent, and just when Olivia was again about to make her presence known, the old woman said:
‘’ Remember the tree we used to meet at?’’
‘’Which tree are you talking about?’’ the old man squeaked. ‘’ How could one remember all the trees in his lifetime?’’
‘’ Of course,’’ the old woman commented, pursing her lips. ‘’ How could you remember all the women you’ve been cheating on me with?’’
So much like my people, thought Olivia, closing the door behind her. She realized they most likely wouldn’t be needing her help that day.
The next day and week after that her life was filled with Gregory. He took her to museums, concerts and restaurants. He was looking into her eyes and touched her lips with his lightly, as the breeze touches young cherry blossoms. The lighter that kiss was, the more excitement mounted in her soul. Ah, those women and their eternal yearning for perfect romance! She was, indeed, from the planet Dream, therefore dreaming was her natural condition.
Gregory, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about love. To him all women were like bright, colorful butterflies in a meadow – easy to catch, easy to break their pretty fragile wings, while he would be watching them die of pain or love – same predicament. Soon Gregory was thinking: “I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her in the first place, for now I don’t know how to get rid of her!” But he never shared his thoughts with her, for it is a custom on any planet not to tell a woman about your true feelings for her even if you don’t love her anymore. One may think whatever he pleases about the woman, but God forbid to tell her the truth. Women have no clue that those sweet little words men pour into their cute little ears have nothing in common with what men really think.
Once Gregory told her, “I was about to call you, but then thought, What’s the use? Sooner or later she is going back to her planet. You could have become my friend, but you don’t speak Artian well enough, so I figured, why bother if all women on my planet speak this language?”
Olivia became very sad because Gregory was right. But, nevertheless, she loved him. Artian language, indeed, differed much from the Dreamian one. On her home planet one pronounced all the written letters, but on Art, for instance, they pronounced only two or three of a ten-letter word. She couldn’t figure out why Artians even bothered to write the rest of the letters that were totally omitted in oral speech. ’’ Don’t they realize they are wasting so much paper writing all those useless letters?’’ she wondered. ‘’Those Artians are so inefficient! ‘’But then, Olivia had her own special relationship with the paper.
Soon ,Olivia noticed that Gregory began to ridicule her. He thought that because she had been born on another planet, she must have lived there on a branch of a tree- perhaps, a very large one, but still a tree. Oh, if he could only see her planet, her home! She would be loving him so much, even more than here, on his planet, although it is hard to imagine a greater love. If only he could see her beautiful planet Dream, perhaps, he himself would begin dreaming . All’s possible in time and space. If on Dream each village proclaimed itself an independent state, why couldn’t one assume that Gregory would one day fall in love with Olivia?
Now Olivia wasn’t as happy as she used to be, for what woman can be happy if the object of her passion doesn’t love her?
Days went by and eventually Gregory abandoned her completely. Olivia’s soul cried out so loudly that even Artians themselves began to console her. “Don’t you cry about him, it’s the nature of all men! Even on the smallest planet, men remain men. They are all alike. If they don’t like a woman, ain’t no way they’d fall in love with her, even if she is the nicest woman in the universe.”
Olivia would close her eyes not to let them see her soul cry.
Meanwhile, Gregory took such pride in his planet and his own handsomeness that he started screaming in the presence of Dreamian immigrants, “I don’t speak Dreamian language, I can’t understand it! She can’t understand my Artian well, and I am unable to respond to her questions. I f she wants to speak with me, let her find a man who speaks both languages fluently. Then I will meet with her, tell her precisely that!”
Olivia became very depressed when she heard those words. What exactly did she have to ask him? And why doesn’t he love her? But she already knew the answer. She was not fluent in Artian. On the other hand, when they first met, her Artian was even worse than it was now! At that time, language didn’t seem to be any problem…
Suddenly it dawned upon her that Artian men did not differ from Dreamian men at all! First they go crazy about you, but before you know it they erase you from their memory! ‘’Strange thing,’’ Olivia thought,’’ although our planets are so far apart, people are very similar on both planets. I wish I knew what he is talking about with Artian women when he kisses them. Is he telling them about the art of Euripides or Seneca, or, perhaps, narrating a story of Socrates who would travel to the market every day but didn’t buy a thing? So when people asked him, “Great Socrates, why do you go to the market every day, but do not buy anything?” And the great man with a long gray beard, in a long robe, and with a tall walking stick in his hand replied pensively, squinting at the sun, “Yes, every day I come to the market, thinking to myself, Just how many things are there in this world that I have no use for?”
Olivia remembered one occasion when Gregory had taken her to a restaurant. She was sitting beside him, being so proud of his handsomness. She was in love with him already, only he had no clue then. He was bearing himself like the Great Supervisor himself. No, he looked much more dignified and more handsome than all Great Supervisors of all planets taken together!
A young and very pretty waitress came to their table, sporting a short, narrow skirt. Gregory kept staring at her shapely, long, tanned legs, and at her large thrusting breasts that seemed to scream “take us!” threatening to burst out of the deep cut of her flimsy blouse. Gregory’s whole posture- his pretty eyes- seemed to be conveying a message: “I can buy all this, I am rich!” The waitress’s gleaming face, her eyes were responding: “I know this. I am yours.”
Olivia became sad since she didn’t have such a short skirt or such a blouse with a deep cut. ‘’Sure, the waitress was, indeed, very pretty,’’ Olivia thought. ‘’But somehow, I think she has no clue as to who Euripides was, and whether Socrates should be served with a white wine sauce or the red wine sauce. But, he preferred the waitress over me, and he knows everything about Euripides and Socrates himself.
Olivia was fed up with planet Art. She packed all her dresses in a suitcase, and decided to return to her home planet. Suddenly, she realized she couldn’t leave because Gregory would remain here, on Art, and she would never be able to see him again until the day she died. She had no idea when that day might come, so she stayed on Art. The funniest part was that having stayed on Art, Olivia still couldn’t see Gregory, because he didn’t want to see her.
So, you might ask, What’s the difference where she would dream about him: on Art or on her own Dream? Nevertheless, Olivia thought that regardless of the fact that she can’t see him or hear him, he was still closer to her when on the same planet. The thought that she kept him inside her heart never occurred to Olivia. Strange breed those Dreamians! They are so into dreaming, that they managed to dream away their own planet!
Having lost her Love, Olivia found a job as a maid at Great Supervisor’s house. This was the most coveted job among the Dreamian immigrants who hadn’t learned to steal. She was escorted to the servants’ quarters, located next to the doghouse, and furnished with an iron bed and a tiny table in the corner. When Olivia went out in the backyard, a small red dog with large dark eyes ran up to her, sniffed Olivia’s legs, wagged its tail, then looked up at Olivia’s face. The dog then placed its head on Olivia’s foot, while still standing on its hind legs. Olivia bent down and stroked dog’s head, at which point the dog lifted its head and stared straight into Olivia’s eyes. Olivia knelt beside the animal and hugged the dog affectionately. “My darling”, she whispered in dog’s ear.
The doorbell rang, and Olivia went to answer it. A short, husky man with a long nose- decorated by a large mole- was standing at the door holding a large flat box in one hand. His other hand held a little girl about six to his side.
‘’ Buy Pizzanio and you’ll never have indigestion! Pizzanio is a very yummy food!’’ the stranger announced, the second Olivia opened the door. The Great Supervisor himself came out to meet the stranger.
‘’ If you need money, just ask,’’ the Great Supervisor said, ‘’we’ll give you more.’’
‘’ I wouldn’t mind,’’ the stranger said shyly, ‘’ because you see, my granddaughter needs new shoes. Her shoes are completely ruined…’’
The Great Supervisor took out his wallet and shoved some bills into a pocket of little girl’s worn- out jacket.
The stranger with the mole on his nose handed his Pizzanio box to Olivia, and used his free hand to take off his hat.
‘’ On behalf of my granddaughter, on behalf of the people of my planet who totally embrace common sense, and on my own behalf I thank you!’’ The stranger announced, backing up from the door, and bowing all the time.
‘’ The people who hunger, who missiles and bombs failed to break, we conquered with chewing gum! We became smarter than those who couldn’t go beyond the use of brutal force, we used our purchasing power. Money can buy anything, you just need to figure out how much it costs.’’ the Great Supervisor uttered proudly, watching the stranger disappear in the distance.
‘’Not all Judases repent and hang themselves,’’ Olivia thought, closing the door.
By Liana Margiva.
Translated from Russian by Anatol Kardiukov.
Reader Reviews for
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|Reviewed by Joyce Bell
|WELL AT LEAST, EVEN IF ONLY IN HER DREAMS...OLIVIA GOT HER TRUE LOVE ANYWAY. WELL DONE AND ENJOYED. THANKS FOR SHARING AND LOVE,
JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
|Reviewed by Inspire Hope
|What an excellent story teller you are Liana! A work of art please write more stories and poems, I just love to visit, what a unique blessing! Thanks for sharing and for caring! Be encourage Liana!
|Reviewed by Jerry Diamond
|I love it Lianna !!!
This is an absolute powerhouse of a write
God Bless you
|Reviewed by A Serviceable Villain
You have a rare gift for writing stories . . . superb!!
|Reviewed by Joey Lawsin
|This is a masterpiece. You created life from abstract. A creative mind in the making. Good job!|
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|You are a fine storyteller, Liana. Thank you for sharing your creative genius. Love and best wishes to you,
|Reviewed by Theresa Koch
|I was totally brought into the story~Fabulous`*|
|Reviewed by Andre Bendavi ben-YEHU
|It is amazing how the author of "TWO PLANETS" developed an ability to mingle the reader with the protagonists of her stories. Everytime I read one of them I feel part of the emotions which keep me in until I finish reading, and realize that I am a reader.
A golden page of literary accomplishment, "TWO PLANETS" glows, and surely will remain shining through the millennia.
Thank You sharing this beautiful and meaningful writing.
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
|Reviewed by Judith Bailey
|What a story! I kept wanting one side or the other to be 'the best one' (in the first part) Then began to think of duality and how neither one by itself is 'the best one'... The horror of male/female exchanges and the impossibility of truth being shared... we have all experienced these things; the hopeless feeling, then the understanding that even if this is the best there is to experience, we will settle ourselves to it.
I've been there and so have you.
You hit upon so many darks in this small story. It will be one that remains in my mind, to try to resolve. In the meantime, let's each do more than just dream or drudge... sending a smile your way with these words.