Once upon a time in 2000 this very copy of the Kurt Vonnegut’s Breakfast of Champions got printed and bound in Great Britain. That what the information on the inside of front cover reveals about the edition, and what yellowed pages with their barely-sensed odour of mold prove. Then, presumably, it travelled only-God-almighty-knows through what number of bookstores for nearly 14 years, without finding its master. Until, finally, its fate brought it to one unrighteous bookstore which was located in the northern lands amongst the snowy tops of Ural Mountains. There on the shelf in English section the book continued its decay, serving its present abode as a dust gatherer. It dropped any hope of being held and already began preparing to become useless pulp and then be recycled in something totally different. But on 2014th New Year Eve everything changed for the poor yellowed thing: it was taken from the dusty shelf and carefully examined. Every page of the book was viewed as if the viewer was looking for something. As if he hid money in this very book and was going to take it back. But no. It wasn’t money he was after, the book understood it when the viewer tore off the magnet from the back cover and got rid of it the same instant. Right after that the book was put in a bag and carried out of the bookstore. When it was printed it couldn’t even think that one day it would be bought with five-fingers-discount and later posted on Instagram by its master. So long.
Allen Ginsberg with cat