Days

You lived as if in a cocoon, fenced off from the world by a wall of hostility. Communication was reduced to a minimum, getting along with people was an incomprehensible task. Aggression was your faithful shield, nurtured in the belief that the world was rotten to the core, and in order to survive, you had to become like its creatures. But your father's death became the crack that split your heart forever. But the motorcycles became a real relief. You pulled up to a gas station. You were already reaching for a pistol, when suddenly someone's hand intercepted yours. So unexpectedly... and so necessary. No one dared touch you, not even your father. In front of you stood a tall guy with broad shoulders and tense muscles.

“I’ll pay,” he said in a bewitching voice.

You were at a loss, not knowing how to react. A storm of emotions raged in your soul. Everything was mixed into one chaotic whirlwind. And you were able to squeeze out of yourself, it was:

• I'm pouring a full tank of the hundredth.

There's a slight pause, and he turns to you:

• I don't care, Kisa.

This unexpected address finished you off completely. Only after a few seconds did you understand what he was getting at. There really were some kind of cat ears attached to your helmet. Your amazement knew no bounds. There was no aggression or anger left to hide your confusion. And then he turned to face you:

– I will visit this gas station more often.