THE MOON GUARDIAN, circle of three short stories by Nikola Kitanovic
Nikola Kitanovic - page of his short stories. Nikola wrote short stories since he was very young and he writing it as well today. Modern stories, short stories, postmodern stories, after-postmodern stories
1.
I woke up in a field. As far as I could
see, everything was filled with windmills. They were equipped with
artificial lights, screens, billboards, reflectors that strongly
illuminated both sky and earth, so that I didn’t know what time of
the day it was, as everything was full of light from the lamps and
moving pictures. There was no wind, but their wings were moving
fast enough that you couldn’t fix them with your eyes because you
would feel sick and dizzy.
I didn’t know if the field was really a
field or if it was concrete. The ground was dark; the sky was
dark, only the windmills were in light, and all the rest was
darkness. The beams of light between the windmills were touching
one another and they were creating a flashy field above the earth
and below the sky. Below and above that field it was dark. Perhaps
it was dark because the field was flashing into my eyes too
strongly and perhaps because it was really the night. I didn’t
know. There was no landmark and I didn’t know what direction to
take because as far as I could see, there were only windmills. Any
movement towards any objective, internal or external, was only
wandering. I could easily say: Here I am going my way. Nowhere
do I turn. I know my way. I know my goal because I am a wanderer.
I could say, but to whom? Then I knew for sure that all those
who persistently followed their way were actually wanderers.
I approached one windmill and circled
around it. I was looking for an entrance, but there was no door,
window, lock, key, anything. The one who was emitting the light
and advertisements was out of reach, or it was done by the
machines automatically by a synchronized program. I didn’t know. I
could not hear the wind, though I felt it on my face and hands.
The wings of the emanating from the wall and becoming stronger and
stronger. I was giving in to it and I became completely seduced by
the scent. In my imagination I saw naked parts of female body. As
my desire grew stronger I had a feeling that I was touched by
female hands, breasts, that wet lips were kissing me, that their
vaginas were rubbing my knees, my tongue, my shoulders. I had a
feeling that they were lifting me, and I rose slowly. They were
leading me. I did not care where, it was important that they were
with me. Then I felt a strong pain, my head was above the light
cloud created by the windmills. I saw my right foot flying in one
direction, my hand in a completely different one, and parts of my
bowels were scattered within the light cloud.
Finally, all my parts fell on the
ground, far from each other. I was not dead, and yet I was
completely dismembered. I was looking helplessly at the neon skies
above me. Then I noticed my liver slowly approaching my head. All
my parts were moving towards me, getting together, and I was
complete again. I realised that in my ecstatic walk I had come
close to the wings of the windmill and they cut me into pieces and
scattered me around. As soon as I was whole and mobile again, I
went to the place where I felt the scent of the woman. I curled
again, again I felt her scent, I imagined her touches, and again I
moved toward the wings of the windmill. I was scattered across the
space again, but I was recollected and I could hardly wait to go
back to the scent of the woman.
windmills were moving without sound,
the advertisements did not produce any sound. Perhaps I had gone
deaf? I hit the wall of the windmill strongly and I heard an echo.
I could still hear! But there was nothing to hear.
I sat down curled next to the wall of
the windmill and I stayed there for a long time, without thoughts
or emotions. Eventually, I felt the scent of the woman
2.
Today I woke up a little later. In such
cases, I knew I would have pain in my head, spine and bones and
sickness in my stomach. However, I felt good, fresh and strong. I
was just afraid: if I got up I could spoil that good feeling.
Finally I decided to get up. I almost jumped out of bed, moving
easily and full of energy. I walked into the bathroom. I looked in
the mirror and at first I thought it was a mistake, but then I
realised that it was really me. I looked twenty-something—more
than twice younger! I finally pulled myself together, got ready
and went back to the bedroom. I was searching through the wardrobe
to find what to put on. I saw a pair of colorful youthful boxer
shorts. Well, that that fit me now! I decided to stay at home all
day long in the boxers satisfied with my appearance.
I opened the living room door, walked
in and heard a round of applause—a standing ovation. I was on the
stage. I did not wonder why I was there and how that was possible,
but I moved towards the middle of the stage determinedly, followed
by continuing applause. I approached a table under the beam of
light where there was a small hand saw. I took the saw, pressed it
to my neck and turned it on. I was slowly cutting my head off.
Finally the head fell into my left hand. I put the saw back on the
table, took my head with both hands and lifted it into the air.
This caused excitement in the audience. I slowly went down the
stairs to the front row. I approached one lady and gave her my
head, asking her to hold it facing the stage, so that I could see
the rest of the show.
My body, without the head, returned to
the stage. I raised my hands in the air and bowed while the
audience applauded almost frenetically. From the bottom of the
stage, a girl in transparent leotards appeared and my body moved
towards her. She climbed up the high ladders onto a small
platform, from which a rope was stretched to the other part of the
stage and another small platform. She was walking on the rope
skillfully and slowly. My body followed, a little clumsy, but with
persistence and determination.
We both reached the other platform. She
closed the curtains around it so that the audience could not see
what was happening on the platform, but they could guess. Her hand
threw her tights over the curtain, and they were slowly falling to
the ground. Then her hand held my boxers above the curtain and
waved them. The crowd was shouting: “Yes!”
Finally the audience went totally
crazy, merging with the rhythm of the music and the light show on
the stage. A young woman in the second row grabbed my head from
the lady in the front row. Then a scramble for my head started:
people were grabbing it from each other and so it was passed from
one row to the next, towards the end of the room. When the curtain
opened, my head was in the last row. The girl on the platform
pushed my body and it fell down to the stage, and the woman who
was holding my head in the last row threw it behind the line. My
body got up and went off the stage to the last row. In the dark,
behind the last row, it felt my head, put it on and I was whole
again. I headed for the doors, opened them, but I looked back and
saw that there were new performers on the stage now. I went out of
that room and I realised that I was in my living room again.
I felt pain in my neck, head and bones,
and sickness in my stomach. I was moving with difficulty. I did
not dare to look in the mirror, as I knew that my old age was
back. I spent the rest of the day opening and closing the doors,
hoping to get on the stage again.
3.
I take a day off every other Friday because my salary is
deposited into my bank account. When I pay all the bills that are
due, I can see how much money remains for my main adventure—going
to the shopping centre, where I enjoy buying everything I can
afford.
The shopping mall was near my place. The streets were
full of people. Occasionally some of them would fall down, fatally
shot in the head. There were snipers at the top of the buildings,
and each was ordered to kill one person walking by within a
specified period of time. As soon as a person was shot, the
communal services would place the body into a closed truck and
wash the blood from the pavement. It was our democratic
agreement—when someone would get killed in this way, we would no
longer speak of him, his data was deleted from the file, and his
relatives and friends received an injection, which made them
forget that the deceased person had ever existed. We were not
afraid of snipers because we opted for them by majority vote in
the referendum.
I walked into the shopping centre full of joy. I looked
around the counters and shelves at the nicely packaged goods. I
was not interested in the contents of the packages, but rather in
the way they were wrapped—it is a supreme sense of art for me.
Very quickly, my cart was packed with wonderful things. When I got
to the cashier, I was told that there was not enough money on my
card for payment. It really made me sad.
“What should I give you as a guarantee to keep
everything?” I asked the friendly saleswoman.
“A lot . . . both arms and both legs,” she replied.
“But, you know, if we take out your left kidney and half of your
liver, you can keep everything and you will get a robotic
wheelchair that can be directed by your mind,” she added.
“I know that you are doing it promptly and
painlessly, and I desperately need these goods, so I agree,” I
told her.
I was without arms, legs, kidneys, and half of the liver.
I was sitting in the wheelchair with a robot pushing me down the
street towards my apartment. The pavement was uneven at the
entrance of my building, which caused the wheelchair to bounce and
throw me to the ground. I did not know that I was at the gunpoint
of a sniper at that very moment. Missing the head, he shot me in
the shoulder. The communal service came immediately, apologising
for the mistake. They gave an order to shoot the sniper and
started discussing with me how to repair the damage.
Finally, they proposed to return my organs, to heal the
wound from the bullet, to give me a bulletproof helmet with three
years assurance, and a card for two years of unlimited shopping at
the mall. Of course, I agreed. Such an opportunity is given only
once in a lifetime.
I entered my apartment feeling lively and happy. I was
unpacking all those wonderful things which I had bought and then I
wrapped them again neatly, because they look nicer when they are
packaged. I am a fortunate man indeed.
