(This is a rush translation. The version may not be in its final form.)
The city without dreams, the dead towers and the gray sky. He had read in his room how mankind could turn back in evolution and terrible knowledge could survive. A boy had died in the street next door. He had gone pale and motionless, had not come alive in the hospital. He had drawn this boy in his notebook. He watched the skies at night on the terrace of the decrepit building with his telescope bought at a flea market. His author had a fascination with mysticisms that were also terrible horrors.
*
His father traveled the seas, sold things, was hospitalized in a hospice. He dreamed that a shadow would watch him on his bed. His mother always told him that it was the prostitutes who killed his father. "The Jewish Polish Sluts". His grandfather told him terrifying stories in his inner-city castle. About the medieval king's fight against the incursions of the pagans. About forests with skeletons and organically inferior individuals who would be innate criminals. "The great city is full of Jewish parasites." He always turned red with anger at seeing blacks in the streets, whom he called "semi-humans." Read in the scientific magazines on how the sun will grow, swallow the Earth and become a little dark star. And the darkness will fall on the cosmos. "The real monsters are invisible and they are in the air, they disintegrate the tissue and are called Progress." He had dreams awake in which he saw the sea monsters and the most bizarre creatures he imagined had driven his father to madness. He walked through the cemeteries and avoided talking to people on the street. The anonymity was scary, no longer responding to another face, they were not human.
*
The total shortage, his years of sexual desire having passed and gave place to an unusual disinterest, small translations that fed him. Badly. The laws of nature were an illusion, fate had annihilated his home, the gods were cruel creatures. He found a book that told the story of a boy who had read about a secret order. What we see is the result of the delicate psychic and mental instruments of each individual. He wanted to travel in time, not space. One day he felt himself out of his body. In this space, the dreams were abandoned. Magical and scary beasts, monsters, lost men who searched for strange realms and once familiar relationships. Banquet in the garden of the castle of three ramparts. Iraqi legends sang in the evenings, such as the one in which Alexander, to build his city, because monsters destroyed at night what the workers did during the day, had to go down to the sea and face these demons with a human body and head of beasts. Charlemagne traced the course of the stars. Le penseur lamented with his harp the absence of God. The philosopher commented drinking wine that in his day, nature had its powers, but the new faith had made it sad and passive.
*
Watch the sky, cold lights like lost islands. What if, after a long time, the bright, indifferent ice touched him? He knew there were horrors on the underground that could come up. On the table, the book with the Melaficium of Conrad of Marburg, Theosophy, and old editions of "Under the Moons of Mars". He thinks the ancient legends about women capable of flying had been studied in the fight against Satan. And if, somehow, evil materialized, was something created out of immense absence and emptiness? He believed now that a gate would open, something had been with him for some time. Then, noticing a black dot in space, he understood that Another Face was watching him, and without words to say it, he drew in his notebook.
Afonso Junio Ferreira de Lima
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