Otherness Dialogues

Otherness Dialogues: events,  workshops and lecture performances


This  programme of the project tackles with otherness through a collection of studies, a collection of stories and a series of events: workshops and performance lectures – from smaller to larger scale, tailored to different participants, aiming cross-cultural dialogue and inclusion.
Importance: Within the large- scale alteration driven by globalisation, the co-existence of different cultural and ethnic groups that engage in dialogues and inspire each other become ever more important. The theatrical expressions and representation of minorities and migrant communities is a susceptible phenomenon that fosters cross-cultural communication and helps in research and theory formation in newly shaped, multifaceted and complex societies.
Aim: raise awareness, foster dialogue in cases of all kinds of otherness (ethnic, religious, cultural, gender, societal issues, migration, etc.) – for social inclusion.
The events are based on cross-disciplinary approaches and methods themselves: philosophy of otherness and drama as a tool for social transformation – they engage many players from the public sector and NGO’s and this way help them engage into a dialogue in order to facilitate social inclusion (education, health, working conditions, etc.).
Through involving decision makers and representatives of NGOs and public institutions the events foster change in proceedings with unprivileged social groups.
Worked out for 3-4 actors (scientists and artists), one of the main aims of the project is to form an international network of events and exchange knowledge, information and experience. Beyond the fact that events are easy to be toured, further actors (scientists and artists) can be trained to hold the events.

  • Target groups:
    • all those working with people who suffer from social exclusion – the poor, the old, the migrants, the minorities – , employees and volunteers working for NGO’s that aim social equality,
    • those working for public institutions: nurses, social workers, clerks, teachers and staff working with socially vulnerable people, police, and decision-makers,
    • the young in order to build a society based on egalitarian values in the future and to prevent prejudice and social exclusion in the future
    • the representatives of vulnerable layers of society (mentioned above) in order to facilitate their inclusion and foster their skills of finding resources and help , for empowerment, assertiveness and to facilitate their successful self-representation and communication of their rights.
    • mixed groups – specially selected mixed groups that include representatives of vulnerable layers of society and people working with them, and the young and also decision makers – selection of participants being conceived according to their representative social group.

Time frame: a series of performance lectures and workshops based on the Otherness Reader:
• pilot workshop: 26-29 October 2014, Cluj, Fabrica de Pensule
• the series of events taking place between January 2015 – March 2016 – during this period:
working out theory, methodology, approach, process of: 12 workshops and 12 performance-lectures in Romania: holding 12 workshops and 12 performance lectures.

  • Topics:
    1. otherness in general – philosophical approach of otherness that come across as close, physical-mental-emotional experiences throughout the events,
    2. a series of otherness: ethnic minorities, immigrants, the poor, the old, women – one event and one workshop is worked out for each issue,
    3. a series of concepts: cultural shame, (re)writing history, representation, assertiveness, etc.
    Partakers can attend events only related to their work or their own social group or community – but also can chose a series of events and workshops.
    Selection of partakers – in cooperation with NGO’s and institutions the project reaches out to all target groups.

THE READER: The Otherness Reader offers an edited and updated reading list of the most significant philosophical texts, with introduction to each of them. The collection is a gap-filling reader in the topic, and it provides material for both academic and extra-curricular activities.
The core texts of the Otherness Reader will be the starting point for academic teaching of cross-cultural encounters and issues on Otherness. In the same time, the project will use these texts to open up a cross-disciplinary and interactive dialogue through the use of texts.

THE STORIES: The Otherness Stories offer you an edited and constantly growing collection of personal stories – told either in words or pictures – to encourage our readers and participants of our events. We think, reflect, and (re)consider points of views throguh these personal stories and reflexions. Besides the event participants, any reader can contribute to this collection – all stories sent to our e-mail address (othernessproject@gmail.com) will be considered by the editorial board.


Workshops: 2-3 days long events for 10-12 participants – held by 2-3 actors (researchers and theatre professionals) conceived on special topics of otherness. These events are based on body-sould-mind experiences: through physical trainings, personal stories and otherness concepts.

Performance lectures: 50-70 mins long lectures for 25-35 participants – held by 2-3 actors (researchers and theatre professionals) based on the philosophical approach of the studies, made interactive for the participants with the tools of drama and theatre.

In both cases the starting points are texts of philosophy and sociology dealing with otherness. Depending on the specified issue of the lecture, the theoretician – with visual aids from the site conceived especially for the text or texts – introduces 1-3 main notions related to the given topic. The notions are put into dramatic situation by the participants with the help of the three actors, they are discussed upon and they are concluded to a resolution with the active involvement of all partakers: often taking the shape of a forum theatre, or telling and acting out personal stories. The closure of the events is always getting back to the main notions.

Events can be travelled to any place invited – a classroom-large venue is needed.


Throughout this project we relate, reflect, talk about, move back and forth and write on otherness. Instead of giving here some accurate and narrowing definition or listing of all that constitutes the notion – i.e. gender, ethnic, racial, religious, social, ageist, ableist, class alterity (the annoyingly narrowing listing we have just made here) –, we prefer to let some others speak for themselves in the following talks.

However broad and hard-to-grasp this topic would be, in the following selection of talks we found some common key features for the theory and experience of otherness we wish to address to throughout our project: the imperative of narrative, of that of telling personal stories, the reflection on our own otherness – also the urge to find a language, engage in a dialogue, recognize the fact that the process itself is more important than setting questions and giving dead-end answers and also how deeply and inevitably we all are engaged in this vast discourse.

Most importantly: finding ways to relate, accept and act are the striking similarities in these speeches.


‘The only way for me to be human is for you to reflect my humanity back at me.’ According to Chris Abani Africa is a land of thousands of narratives.  He draws the listeners’ attention to the fact that all we know about who we are comes from stories, that the language makes the world in what we live and that learning the history of other people makes us learn the history of our people:

Talking about alternative histories, a white photographer gives voice to his compassion while taking pictures for five years in Lakota reservations. Not surprisingly, Aaron Huey offers a narrative of his Lakota friends and new family that is completely antagonistic to the boastful history of the conquerors. A world apart in which the term for non-Indians stands for ‘the person who takes the best part of the meat’:

On the other hand, continuing the thread of poverty, we hear the reaction of a young woman to childhood Sunday school lectures according to which Jesus wants us to help the poor but also warns that poverty will always be around. Jessica Jackley one day just set up a microloan site as an answer to the seemingly impossible assignment:

Also pictures, thousands of pictures are made by IO Tillett Wright who grew up in a funky NY neighbourhood where not being a drag-queen, punk or artist meant to be regarded as a weirdo. The perspectives and layers of gender questions are turned around many times as she also pretended for years to be a boy and being cast in films as such. Hesitating between he-or-she identity the speaker finds that a great deal of humans would not be able to set themselves unequivocally on a 100% gay or straight scale’s two opposite ends:

Let’s turn the refugee camps into centres of excellence – suggests Melissa Fleming who sees in these too long-term gatherings of dis/misplaced people a huge fountain of talent and investment for the future. ‘How about a place of healing, learning, and even opportunity?’ she poses the question in her talk:

Seeing, perceiving, acknowledging – being aware of otherness. Mellody Hobson succeeded in her career what only one coloured women could achieve apart from her. Even though she grew up in a family where the obvious first question posed to a little girl returning from a party thrown by upper-middle class family is: ‘how did they treat you?’:

Limitation inspires creativity: two talks by people who would seem disabled, though they are gifted artists, proving that disability is neither a bad thing nor it makes us exceptional: Stella Young:

and Phil Hansen:

If you select only one speech you wish to see (just to stick ourselves to effective common places), than this should be that. A brilliant and emotional talk on additive models of love and the ecosphere of kindness:

Prodigy kids, dwarfs, deaf offspring and beauty pageant, serial killers’ mourning mothers, and finally gays and lesbians forming happy patchwork families of five parents, four children in three states. Alterities not to be changed. The personal story of Andrew Solomon interwoven with twenty years’ of research on what/how/who should (not) be mended when everything goes wrong:

Lots of pros and cons, rational arguments and emotional answers, theories of otherness, your and our personal stories, events, debates, workshops, performance lectures are about to come soon.

Otherness Reader



I. Levinas on the Other; Responsive phenomenology of the Alien
Introduction to Lévinas
1. Emmanuel Levinas: The Face; Responsibility for the Other (excerpts from E. Lévinas: Ethics and Infinity. Conversation with Philippe Nemo, trans. Richard Cohen.)
Introduction to Waldenfels
2. Bernhard Waldenfels: From Intentionality to Responsivity (excerpts)

II. Derrida on the Foreigner
Introduction to Derrida
3. Jacques Derrida: Foreigner Question: Coming from Abroad / from the Foreigner (in: Derrida, Jacques and Anne Dufourmantelle: Of Hospitality, Stanford, Stanford UP, 2000)

III. Gadamer on hermeneutic experience
Introduction to Gadamer
4. Hans-Georg Gadamer: The concept of experience and the essence of hermeneutic experience (excerpt, in: Hans-Georg Gadamer: Truth and Metod, Continuum, London-New York, 2006)

IV. Recognition and Otherness
Introduction to Honneth
5. Axel Honneth: Recognition and Moral Obligation (excerpt, in: Social Research, 1997, 64/1)
Introduction to Taylor
6. Charles Taylor: The Politics of Recognition (excerpt, in: A. Gutmann (ed.), Multiculturalism: Examining the Politics of Recognition, Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1994)

V. Žižek on the Other and Multiculturalism
Introduction to Žižek
7. Slavoj Žižek: Neighbours and Other Monsters. A Plea for Ethical Violence (excerpts, in: Slavoj Žižek, Eric L. Santner, Kenneth Reinhard: The neighbor: three inquiries in political theology, University of Chicago Press, 2005)
8. Slavoj Žižek: Multiculturalism or the cultural logic of multinational capitalism? (excerpt, in: New Left Review. I/225, September-October 1997. http://www.egs.edu/faculty/slavoj-zizek/articles/multiculturalism-or-the-cultural-logic-of-multinational-capitalism/)

VI. Sociology of strangehood/otherness
Introduction to Schütz
9. Alfred Schütz: The Stranger: An Essay in Social Psychology (excerpt, in: American Journal of Sociology, 1944, 49/6)
Intorduction to Bauman
10. Zygmunt Bauman: From Pilgrim to Tourist – or a Short History of Identity (in Stuart Hall and Paul du Gay eds., Questions of Cultural Identity, London: Sage, 19-36.)

Otherness Stories

Our participatory events, workshops and performance lectures are all based on constant reflexive and cooperative processes in which we relentlessly reconsider our positions, points of views and levels of participation. This way, at a certain point, between the theoretical background of Otherness Reader and movements/dance trainings there will be room for the participants to share own stories and experiences.

First we thought we would share some of our personal stories to encourage participants’ creative work during our events – and also set some very simple rules or frames if you wish: a maximum of 10 sentences, maximum 3 pictures or maximum 3-4 minutes long film sketches. We also said that everyone is free to express themselves on their mother tongue (in which case the reader is encouraged to use a translator programme). So we started to gather our own personal stories and also asked some of our friends to do the same.

This way stories and pictures arrived from Budapest (Hungary), Cairns (Australia), Tallin (Estonia), Helsingør and Aarhus (Denmark), Sofia (Bulgaria), Frankfurt (Germany), Odorheiu Secuiesc, Târgu Mureş (Romania) – and, we think, they could have come from any other corner of the world.

Film sketches have not arrived so far, some series of pictures were put into a collage in order to keep to our frames, and quite a few of us have decided to abandon their mother tongue to share their experiences in English. Also, some have told stories when they felt othered, and some shared experiences in which they othered someone else. Fiction in some short texts added some refreshing dash to the following series. As you will see, in the very end of this post, there are two stories in which – partly for ethical, party for aesthetic reasons – neither the story tellers nor the editors felt entitled to intervene and cut the length of the texts that transgressed the frames (we highlighted ten core sentences from the first, and the second is just left the way it is: a poem).

Even if for any reason you are not able to take part at our events, you are encouraged to continue our thread of thoughts and imagination: stories sent to othernessproject@gmail.com.


This short videoclip attempts to grasp otherness in the process of metamorphoses, not only physical but also verbal. The starting point is Ariel’s song in Shakespeare’s The Tempest. By exploring change at different levels, as The Tempest does, including both the political and the aesthetical levels, the authors join in with Ariel’s song. Their alternative voice alongside Ariel’s generates a multilayered fabric of sounds and images in which transformation, and therefore becoming other, always results in something much more complex and richer.

Though the country is known for its ‘free minded’ multiculturalism, my mother has got only few friends there and most of them are Estonians or other foreigners sharing the same experience. It is firstly so because of her poor English language skills. My mother is afraid of being misunderstood because of spelling mistakes she does in English. Nice people permanently humiliate her: “No one points out your mistakes, so as not to hurt your feelings, and then there are so many, after all we don’t give a damn”. Some just let her know that it’s irritating to talk to her, occasionally raising eyebrows or saying “I beg your pardon?” So my mum understood that she will never be part of it, that it is not worth it, that there, at least, she is ‘not taken in’. So she has chosen not to encounter locals to become friends with them. On the contrary: she rejects speaking English and accepts the realm of silence. Better to stay mute than bear another humiliation.


Epp Trilla

Most egészen másként nézett rá. Világos volt, hogy legszívesebben elfordulna, lesütné vagy behunyná a szemét. És még ez is jobb lett volna, mint amit csinált: hogy közömbösen átnéz rajta.
Egy kép a falon.
Sándor Sajó

He is a guy walking in the corridors of the school. A small guy. The corridors are long. He does that to face other people. He does that to be faced by other people. He does that to make sure he owns a face. And then in his face they say: “How is it possible that you say you are Jewish! This is the same as to call yourself Gypsy! Are you stupid!” “Roma! – he said. They like to be called Roma!”

It was in the 80s. Bulgaria had just done changed the names of all people of Turkish origin into Bulgarian sounding ones. In my class came two sisters and a brother. They were the children of the new cleaning woman of our school. They were proud they had new names. But they had their old skin. My classmates treated them bad. They called them names and insisted that they were Gypsies.

One day their mother came to our classroom and spoke. She said that they were Turkish and now that they have their new names they are legitimate part of our people and they should be treated right. This was the same day that I spoke to my classmates as well. I wanted them to realize that there is no connection between names, skin colour, language and being in the same room with someone. It seemed I had succeeded. But I still had an issue in my mind: “So there was this evil done to a whole group of people – change their names from Turkish to Bulgarian, using violence and still this seems attractive to a Roma person. How far away do they feel then… “
Ida Daniel

I stand, facing an edge of bushes next to the sidewalk: familiar bodies stand beside me or close by. A human walks by. I quickly turn away. I look into the leaves, as if to hide. One of the others lets out the sound of danger: “Öh!” We come together. The human is a young, black man. His passing by triggers something within me and for a second I consider if he could possibly misinterpret our group behaviour towards him as a sign of racism. I silently burst into laughter: This is insane! Then the black man is gone and I return to reindeer related concerns – this neighbourhood is dangerous.
Lotus Lykke Skov

A Sallai utca vége ’74-ben lényegében a város széle volt: az úttest a többségében még vakolatlan kockaházak kazánjából a télen jéggé tömörödött hó tetejére kiszórt salaktól szürkés porral keveredett föld volt, a horhón helyenként még fű is nőtt. A környéken egyetlen korombeli lány sem lakott, Ritát, a szembe-szomszédlányt kivéve, aki már hétévesen is folyton olvasott és legfeljebb teljes szélcsendben volt hajlandó tollasozni, úgyhogy a fiúkkal szoktam kergetőzni, amikor kiengedtek. A fiúk közt egy elsős volt, Laci, aki a bébe járt, a többiek másodikosok, harmadikosok. Egyszer tavasszal, délután, amikor már nyitva voltak napközben az ablakok, és hallottam, kint fogócskáznak, kimentem. Akkor ott volt a két fiú is, akik lejjebb laktak, és nem szoktak az utcavégi társasággal játszani, de ők is a Bartókba jártak. Éppen jól megjegyeztem őket: a kisebbik pár nappal előtte iskolából jövet utánam kiabált az ablakukból: boszorkány, fogatlan banya, aztán együtt nevettek a nagyobbikkal. Amikor pedig becsuktam magam mögött a kaput és azt kérdeztem, ki a fogó, Sanyika meg sem állva kiáltotta oda, hogy ő. A két testvér megállt, egymásra nézett és a nagyobb minden teketória nélkül azt mondta, lányok nem játszhatnak – erre mindenki megállt, közelebb jött és lett egy kis csend. Laci szólalt meg, láthatóan komoly mérlegelés után: de ez gyorsan fut. Megint volt egy kis csönd, aztán a nagyobb gúnyosan azt mondta, hogy jó, de akkor te vagy a fogó.
Lilla Proics


Bevásárló körúton voltunk vagy egyéb dolgokat intéztünk, nem emlékszem pontosan. Csak arra, hogy a sokadik hely után, a gyalogos sétáktól kifáradt húgom azt mondta, jó, akkor ő most leül pihenni ide a templom lépcsőjére, megvár minket. Amikor visszaértünk hozzá, műanyag egylejest lobogtatott a kezében, az arcán nevetés és sírás között szlalomoztak a grimaszok. Koldusnak nézte valaki, adakozott hát egyet gyorsan. Egymásra borulva szakadt ki belőlünk a röhögés, percekig rázott minket. Pedig a húgom rendesen volt felöltözve. Mondjuk, hogy valami nem oké, hogy baj van a lábával, nem olyan, mint minden normális ember, messziről látható volt.

Talán azért ez ugrott be nekem, mert el akartam mesélni, hogy a másság sokszor, egészen képtelen pillanatokban akár, de megteremti a létezés tömény, végtelenül szabad tereit. Ezt az élményt a húgomnak köszönhetem.
Nem tudom, lényegében mitől különböztek ezek a fajta nevetések a többitől.
Anikó Varga

If you say “milk” in Romanian, there is no problem, but if you say “bread”, people will immediately notice that you are a Hungarian minority and god knows what reaction could come – this was my first experience with languages when as an elementary schoolgirl I was sent to the shop by my mother and from her first movement to stretch me out the shopping bag, thunderstorms escalated in my heart up till the moment when it turned out what I had to buy.
Most of the times nothing frustrating happened to me: I was not laughed at loudly by huge open mouths revealing thick tongues and carious dentils. Nor put on chain, hit by whip and tortured like a mad dog. Not even an eyebrow was raised – most of the times. Still, when I walked down the stairs of our first-floor apartment to the shop, I took with me the burden of the worst outcome ever: the possibility of being excluded. Things in my head escalated into a script according to which bread was the corpus delicti to give out my otherness. As with bread I might have lost my dignity and trust in people surrounding me. With bread I had to rely on goodwill of others – unknown and from one certain respect definitely different people: the caste of those who can pronounce “bread” correctly.
Statistically, I was not excluded from more playgrounds, schools, universities, workplaces and editorials than any other human being in this world. But I always blamed the bread. The “bread”.
Rita Sebestyén


This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Noémi-Krisztina Nagy


Mindig megvártak a kicsik a kapunál. A hétfői magyarórára tavasz elejétől rengeteg viragot hoztak. Amikor összeszedtem a táskámat, a naplót, meg a 1o-15 csokor virágomat, lelkesen kísértek ki és azt mondták: Virágos tanárnő! Rajtam ragadt. A nagyobbak – 14-15 évesek – már nem hoztak annyi virágot, de minden plusz feladatot megcsináltak és nem szégyelltek jelentkezni.
Késő tavasszal már jól látszott, hogy terhes vagyok, de a kicsik nem törődtek vele, ugyanúgy ugrándoztak körülöttem. A nagyobbak tudomásulvevő tekintettel néztek, és bár semmi látható jelét nem adták annak, hogy másképp látnak, én éreztem. Mégis szeretettel vettek körül, ezt is éreztem.
Nyár elején az évzárón szintén rengeteg virágot kaptam. Ott ácsorogtunk a diákokkal az udvaron, amikor megjött Richárd, a legalacsonyabb roma gyerek. Szerteálló haja alatt ragyogott a koszos és groteszk kis ábrázata, büszkén kihúzta magát a nemtudomhonnanszerzett kis zakójában, és egy csokor kókadt németszegfűt nyújtott felém. Én átvettem és nem tehettem mást, minthogy jobbról-balról megpusziltam, ahogy mindenki mást is. Le kellett hajolni hozzá, nem is lehetett óvatoskodni, hát megtörtént. És elrettenve álldogáltam az udvaron, kezemmel hozzá sem értem a pocakomhoz, szorongva mondtam Jóskának, a tornatanárnak, hogy mi történt, mire ő elvezetett az öltözőben levő csaphoz, szappant, törülközőt adott és megvárta, hogy megmossam az arcom. Amelyre rácuppantott két puszit egy ördögképű, nagyon kicsi cigány fiú.
Sosem mondtam volna el, ha nem tudnám, hogy Richárd nem fogja olvasni, hiszen nem tudott olvasni, talán most sem tud. Pedig ötödikes volt. Eleven kis gyerek, aki nem tudott mindig csendben ülni az utolsó padban, de elszigeteltsége tartós volt. Voltak még cigányok az osztályában, olyanok is, akik tudtak írni-olvasni, akik bekapcsolódtak az órába. Ő csak a feolvasásokkor figyelt, de akkor tátott szájjal, hogy aztán ismét elmerüljön saját világába, nem tudni merre kalandozó gondolataiba. És most, ez az évzárós vonulás, ez az izgatott ünnepi megmutatkozás jelentette számára azt az alkalmat, amikor igazán úgy érezhette, hogy végre úgy tesz, mint a többiek. A ragaszkodás valamiféle jelét adta, valamiféle ünneplőben, virágcsokorszerű képződménnyel a kezében, és ugyanazt tette, amit a többi gyerek – méltósággal és boldogan használt egy szokást, hogy olyasmit mutasson fel, ami a többiekkel összeköti: a szeretet és a tiszteletadás boldogságos, felmagasztosító érzetét. Az ajándékozás örömteli, felnőttes pillanatát. A közös emberség büszke érzését. És ehhez a nagyszerű pillanthoz viszonyultam én színleg kedvesen, közben gyanakodva. Igen, a mikrobák, a vírusok. Piszkos arc, fekete körmök. És dehogy voltam az a virágos tanárnő, akinek a gyerekek és ez a kicsi cigány fiú hittek. Felsorakoztam, ha láthatóan nem is, az értetlenek, a kiközösítők, az érzéketlenek csoportjához, ahonnan nem lehet látni azt a valóban felemelő pillantot, amelyet ő megélt, a másokkal való közösség érzetét. Bár utólag értem, de akkor vétkesen nem láttam őt. És tudtam, hogy hiába volt minden csokor virág.
Ildikó Ungvári-Zrínyi


Mindig is vonzott a zöld rácsos ajtó, megtudni mi van mögötte. Valami csodát sejtettem. Nyugalmat árasztott a ház, a zöld ívelt ablakokkal, a kőfalra futtatott borostyánnal. Titokzatossá tette az érintetlen kert…
Nem akarok, felkeni az ágyból. Oblomov társául szegődtem. Életfilozófiámmá vált. Oblomovizussal bélyegzetten Oblomvot olvasok. Penész a csésze teámban. Tervem van vele. Hajót fogok tűrögetni, és tengerre szállok, körülhajókázom a rejtélyes, szépséges szigetem. Ki tudja, akár hajótörött is lehetnék. Jó életem lesz.
A teám-penész-szigetén fogok pihenni.
Mindig is vonzott a zöld rácsos ajtó…
Akár a durhami Kilec-Templom kápolna ékei, mészből faragott fej vagyok, egy öröklétre kárhoztatva, a létre. Bámulni, és bámultként leledzni. Meszes alakom mozdítani nem merem, mert nem tehetem. De szép vagyok, arcom ívelt, formálóim kezét dicsérem. Testemet nem érzem, zakatoló agyam igézem.
Mindig is vonzott a zöld rácsos ajtó…
Gyermekkacaj- csengő. A remény, ez az enyém lesz. Ott úszott bennem. Szép vagy picim. Fekete árnya jött, majd csillag lett belőle, valami kék és fehér fény. Ott a kertben, a fenyőfa tövében a hervadt virág mellett, a születésnapi gyertyáját elfújta a szél.
Mindig is vonzott a zöld rácsos ajtó…
Sötétzöld és kék a pamlag, amin fekszik. Arca hervadt, sápatag, ha jól látom a kusza fényben ma pirosítót tett rá, repedezet ajkán a rúzs élénk piros színe, az egyetlen élő a térben. A keze reszket, pedig már ivott. A szag, ami körüllengi az áporodott ruháé, az aszott bőré. Szeretem ezt a szagot, ismerős, otthonos, elválaszthatatlan tőle, az én szkarabeuszomtól. Nem szoktunk beszélgetni, ezt már megszoktuk. A törött üvegű óra idétlen ketyegése elmondja a csendet. Ma meg fog szólalni a rúzs. Csevegni fog. Már napok óta készül rá. Valami tőle teljesen idegennel fogja kezdeni. Ha jól tudom, elfelejtett már őszinte lenni. Megütötték a gongot, és megkezdődött a játék:
X: Adj király katonát !
XX: Nem adok!
X: Adj király katonát !
XX: Nem adok!
X: Adj király katonát !
XX: Nem adok!
X: (mosolyt csal az ajkára, szétteszi lábát) Adj király katonát !
XX: Nem adok!
Felhúzza papucsát és kislattyog a vécére.
Mindig vonzott a zöld rácsos ajtó…
Tavaszi szél vizet áraszt virágom, virágom….
Réka Dunkler