“Case Reporting”, the basic literary work of Deutsche Welle’s basic literary work at the time of dictatorship Alexandros Schina, was released again these days. The leading work of the author and journalist Alexandros Schina was re -published last month by Estia Publications, “Reporting Case”, will be presented at the Athenian Bookstore of Estron next Tuesday. A comet would say on the firm of literature in the sixties that is now reappearing. Project bulky, evocative, unique. Explicitly and inexcusable it is ranked by the excruciating question of the meaning of human existence in an open environment, by the ego’s chill in front of the arrogant. From the chapter on the “involvement of the ego in the other” a case of deceitful loneliness in an abandoned city.

The stage

I was walking night in an unknown state.

The roads were narrow and complex, paved with small square plates. Multiple -wide mansions were frank of my course. The gas lanterns just illuminated the basis of their silent facades, which were lost high in the dark. So a lit window.

All doors closed.

It was an uninhabited state.

I hit, many times, in a heavy bronze bat.

No resonance was answered.

I have hit hopefully many times, with my two hands. The sound was heard hollow inside. They were spread out and renovated in an amorphous gap.

Behind these facades there were no stairs, no corridors, no rooms. This state was a vast scene.

I thought about running, trying to get out as soon as I could from there. But as soon as I did the first jump, I felt my foot sink. The plate I had pressed broke like a glass. The pieces fell inward and lost quietly. In her position she stayed a square hole. I took two steps back, kneeled and leaned over her.

A cafve furnace wrapped my face.

I felt an unspecified volume of stirring underneath and approaching.

In the half -scale of lanterns, I stood out a person. A human face, who came and was wedged in the context of the hole, a potential in front of mine. His inverted eyes were whitish. His clenched teeth were covered by the foams of a speechless rabies.

I got up in a way and moved away on the nails.

Now I know. I’m not alone here.

The subsoil of this state is full of such persons. Underneath the fragile slabs of these endless roads, a multitude of such faces know my presence. And he waits.