Kljuc

A novel... The last night I slept at home was the night of December 29th, 1991. After that night I have been going to bed and been waking up in many other places, of which at least one I could , with a lifelong engrafted caution, even call my home, but no, never again after that night have I slept at home, I was never at home at all, nor I will ever be at home again, even if I would go back to that place, the place where the home was. The place, actually, still exists: it was not blown up by a grenade, bomb, dinamite or any kind of explosives, God forbid, we are all civilized people, that house, building actually, still lastingly exists in the world, there it is exactly where it has always been, now on the non-existing address...

Additional Material:

• The Key