1 minute read
Villa Oluška
from Recovery Craft
by ilja_kibrik
On a quiet street of noon stands a house that's older than most any passerby who looks over their shoulder.
On the iron gate it says, for the sake of drawing less attention to itself than it is worth showing:
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"Welcome to Oluška"
Not exactly word for word, but it does the job. And below, a plaque that makes one slow down or stop:
"The Hotel Silenzio" "Department of Experimental Botany," with a quiet air.
Climbing plants on every wall, dry and crooked branches, cracked and dark-gray portico with a small expansion.
Neither sign of any guest nor of any staff. Not a shade of anyone or an evil laugh.
Has some prof gone off his gourd, merging man and plant, for a better world to come on a measly grant?
Or perhaps the noble aim was a tad more worldly, with a lesser claim to fame and perhaps less lonely.
Not a soul to tell us if it was calm or violent. Not a voice to break the old stichomythic silence.
