<<Ok so this is the….twenty-two street right?>> Pxan asked confused to a random guy on the street.


    <<Oh, yeah yhau kniu these days is a lottle bit a closterfrog>>


    Pxan looked at what believed to be his brother for translation


    <<He said that those days the streets are hard to recognize>>


    <<Thot as nor whet I suid>>


    <<What is he saying?>>


    <<That some things get lost in translation>>


    <<Ohi yah not koi hiw thi translate ou phrase. Mum always did it.>>


    <<Charles, the policeman is in a hurry we can’t bother him about those things>>


    <<How always suid those>> the man face became sad


    <<So in order to reach the twenty-sixth street you have to take three steps south, take two routes from the left, at that point you should see a dog, if he is not dead, it may be dead. At that point take two route right and you should be on that road.>>


    <<W-what? Why do you take as points of reference those things?>>


    <<Yah knew when you live in thise places you adept>> the old man without teets said


    After a good hour of wandering and meeting several dogs, Pxan finally found the correct street, now he must find a photograph...he looked at the road, it was a long road, a very long road. He asked a few persons, even those on the balconies if they knew of a photograph up to that road. A woman in his sixties said that his poor Francis got a stroke last night so the photograph was some hundred meters from there. When asked how the two things were correlated he replied <<everything in the world is correlated>>


    Pxan was beginning to regret not being fired.


    After two kilometres he found the photographer, now he should only find the correct door, alley, turn…


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.It was at this point that Pxan realized that there were many green doors and a door, contrary to his district, may it be open even if there isn’t inside. Sometimes the street cut right through buildings, sometimes in those buildings were offices, sometimes there wasn’t anything but crispy ladies.


    Nearly by accident, he opened a door, hoping that it was the correct one, and a guy trowed at him a storm of insult so heavy and so variegated that Pxan realized how varied was the English language, that was how that guy insulted him.


    <<And your donkey!>> at that moment he was insulting animals <<He was so weak that he didn’t stop the betrayal of the revolution...The communist revolution![1] Do you know my name? No! Because you are the son of a banana seller! My name is Richard!>>


    At that point, Pxan realized that he might finally have found him.


    <<Doctor Richard I have some papers for you>>


    <<Oh thanks. How are your lungs, in those times lungs are more and more deteriorated, how know since they put all of those machines here things have been getting worse and worse. Do you ever lack breath during the day?>>


    <<My lungs are…>> if he did remember correctly one of his lungs was half-replaced and the other needed some surgeries <<fine. I think. I think that I am in good shape>>


    <<Did your parent ever had problems ordering the house?>>


    “Why I am doing this?” he paused <<yes>>


    <<Oh typical, I bet that you now have problems keeping things in order.>>


    <<Yes...how do you know>>


    <


    >


    <<Wait how do you know that you are really Doctor Richard?>>


    <<Ah.>> Richard went in the other room picking up a certificate <<this is my certificate of birth.>>


    Pxan looked and read it <<ok so here are the papers, I hope that you have a good day. By->>


    <<How is Lhyps?>>


    <<I think that he is fine>>


    <<Oh, I am really glad...how is Francis?>>


    <<Who is Francis?>>


    <<How know, he was an old man he had heart problems. Might be dead.>>


    <<Ah, so I know of a Francis who had a stroke->>


    <<What was his surname?>>


    “Do people here still use surnames?” <<don’t know>>


    <<Damn! Why people never say surnames...so how is Marcus?>>


    In the late afternoon, after more than five hours of being out, asking people, responding to question and trying out to figure out the local culture he was back at the station.


    <<Oh Pxan you are back, I see that this district has already taken a toll on you.>> said Marth


    <<What is up with this place?!?>>


    <<Nah, nothing really serious. Just that people want themself good and have strong bonds...or something. Don’t know really.>>