Teacher

It was a foggy day when, like students, we entered

the school; found the teacher writing on the board

something narrating a familiar fable which we found

tasteless. The teacher welcomed us, especially the initiate,

who always inspired admiration with His graceful persona,

His stature and it was as if He led us to a garden full

of bloomed flowers, playful butterflies hanging from

threads of air, colorful spring, and the teacher repeated

to his students, ‘attention children attention, it isn’t

often that we have such a special visitor’, Übermensch

laughed and obviously pleased He said: ‘these students

are tomorrow’s Übermenschen.’

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Consequence

During the farewell dinner, he and his company got

drunk (all of them less than twenty years old). Past

midnight they took the roads with the laurel bushes,

ivy, guitars, and they decapitated the statues. Come

dawn he went away to Sicily. His trial took place while

he was away. They convicted him to death; then it was

the treason too and the defeat and the prisoners who

died in the quarries (some seven thousand) and

Sparta that received him with laurels. We knew well

the bitterness hiding in his arrogance. He only

missed Athens;

and Athens missed his beauty in the Agora and in

the Arena.

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