"...he began to crawl with a pillow in one hand and a doorknob in the other to continue his fight with the door, which has become a routine job. After looking at the battered door for a long time, he thought that it was invincible. His eyes was looking around for a hard, sharp and pointed object. At least if there was something like a fork, a spoon...”
He did not know what time, where he lived. Was it inside or outside the truth? What was right and what was he looking for? Which of the events in the triangle of reality, dream, dream, reflected the truth? Would he be able to decipher which dimension he belonged to among all these tides?
No name, no gender, no nationality, no faith, no place where he lived... He was just a person! Yes, just being a human being was enough to inspire a novel. The work tells the story of this man's struggle to get out of his captivity in an unknown place at an unknown time, as well as his confrontation with himself and his decisiveness in search of the truth.
"...he began to crawl with a pillow in one hand and a doorknob in the other to continue his fight with the door, which has become a routine job. After looking at the battered door for a long time, he thought that it was invincible. His eyes was looking around for a hard, sharp and pointed object. At least if there was something like a fork, a spoon...”
He did not know what time, where he lived. Was it inside or outside the truth? What was right and what was he looking for? Which of the events in the triangle of reality, dream, dream, reflected the truth? Would he be able to decipher which dimension he belonged to among all these tides?
No name, no gender, no nationality, no faith, no place where he lived... He was just a person! Yes, just being a human being was enough to inspire a novel. The work tells the story of this man's struggle to get out of his captivity in an unknown place at an unknown time, as well as his confrontation with himself and his decisiveness in search of the truth.