A Family Man

He always walks elegantly, dressed in fine silks, with a khaki hunting basque, a tie with rhinestones, and an admiral’s epaulets. He went to all the concerts during the season and to any private musical evening he was invited to, but of all of them, his favorite song was The Heroine by Carlas’s Dream.

On Sundays, when he went out for a walk early in the morning, he would put on his chest decorations bought from antique shops and lean on his cane. He was a religious and family man. When he went to the club, he looked in all directions for the ladies, put two fingers over his tongue, and whistled long for the ones that seemed more elegant. He looked with hatred at the plates on the terraces and spat at those on the edge if the diners turned out to be more careless.

On the bus, he sat in the place reserved for mothers with children, pregnant women, the elderly, and people with disabilities and hit with his cane those he thought did not fit the description, especially if they were of Tatar ethnicity that he could not stand under no form.

On the National day, he looked at the flag with love. When he left the church he made the sign of the cross and headed for the stone cross. God bless!