
Our terrace with a view of Mount Exoburgo
In the house, as a treat, there is a small bottle of ouzo on the table — the Greek version of an anise vodka. We try it; it burns the throat.
We sit on the sofa and put together a wooden puzzle. Volchy quickly figures out how to assemble it. And I keep turning the pieces for a long time, and in the end I also manage to fit the scattered parts into a sphere.
I like how Volchy sits patiently beside me. He doesn’t give hints, doesn’t help. He just sits and watches me try to put it together. And it seems as if he knows that I will put it together. Sooner or later. One way or another.




