[‘I will leave you lunch in the fridge, son.’ I saw those teary eyes at the end of the night while we all shared the last food of those days. I sold everything but a desktop computer. My tears fell on the keyboard of an AMD Athlon 2.33 GHz, while from the moistened wall the smell of antiquity arose. It was a rented and very old house in the Garden city, with keys from the colonial time. My days at the art institute were over and I lost my job. The next night with friends I ate delicious bread with coffee. All of them kept talking about our country’s hyperinflation of 5395%, and I went with a friend to his house to sleep. We were on a high speed highway in the middle of the night thinking about how to cross. Breaking the law was a common thing in that concrete jungle. While listening a few gun detonations from the other side, I said to my friend, 'I am afraid to cross. I am high.' He answered me, ‘Trust me, I have been more high and I always cross this highway, just follow me.' We survived that day...but my friend was hit by a bus with bullet holes weeks ago. He survived too.] ©Yusaymon All Rights Reserved
