Memoirs of a martial Artist - sometimes dreams seem slow

(foto Živilė Abrutytė)

The Master had explained to me, without any apparent reason, that someone had funnelled thousand of euros in that coffeehouse to keep it open during the winter. And he did it unbeknownst to everyone in such a way that somebody had the suspicious that it was a money laundering operation, which was quite common in this city. It was quite manifest that one of the best known banks of Vilnius received a formal warning from the central bank of Lithuania. The Italian mafia had begun to push its tentacles towards the Baltic Republics.

In Vilnius to manage any local business was really hard in that season. There was a sort of depression in winter around the center. Few passersby, no tourists, no business...given the harshness of the winter…an unfortunate situation to run a shop in winter in the city.An Italian I knew used to say that in those days ci sono i lupi per le strade. He meant that the streets are so deserted that only wolves go around the empty gatvės (streets) descending down from the hills into the city and looking for food.
And I agreed with his similitude.
The Master leaned into the fragrant, curling steam of his tea and grinned in grief without a reason.
Art Cafe seemed a disquieting place for him. But I felt it cozy instead. Everything in there seemed slow in the way sometimes dreams seem slow.