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XXXVII. The silver knife

June 15th

Vladimir

“Mom, how will I remember when my birthday is?” the little boy asked his mom.

The mom hugged the little boy and kissed his little cheek.

When the clearing of the forest is full of flowers and buzzing with life when the warm light of the June Sun will kiss your sweet face, you will know it is your birthday,” the mother said, looking into the boy's eyes.

He had the same eyes like his dad.

“But what day, mom?”

“The fifteen.”

I wake up, covered in sweat, the sheets damped around me. I look at the watch: 5:23 AM. And then I see the date—the day when the nightmare started -the 15th of June, fifteen minutes years ago. Today is my birthday. After what happened, I never celebrate another birthday, not even when Ana br

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