Publikacija SEP 2011 - Vilenica

From “NASA” with Love
Dragan Radovančević
I
Ozan had not only taken his name off his front door, he’d also
erased himself. He unlocked the door, left it slightly ajar, let me in and
then ran into his room.
“Ozan” I find him curled up on a pink blanket in bed, hugging
his knees to his chest. There’s no reply. “Ozan!”, I repeat his name, still
standing near the door. He doesn’t answer. He’s staring at his own feet.
Yesterday when we talked on the phone I got the feeling that we’d
suddenly become strangers. I don’t dare to come close to him.
“What’s going on with the universe” he smiles ironically at me
in tears. At first, I didn’t even notice he had been crying. “Didn’t you
check that out this morning on NASA dot gov”
“Ozan.” I approach him hesitantly. It could be said that both of us
felt the inappropriateness of it. I sit on the corner of his bed. My habit
of checking NASA news was really irritating to him. News from the
stars, as he would put it. “You better beware the Beings that are here!”
But who are the Beings
“Ozan was pretty and mischievous”, he utters with another ironic
smile. “He was good when he was playing with some fabric and buttons.
Back when he was a fashion model who worked for a big Italian
agency.” He waves his hand at the level of his head as if he were saying
goodbye to himself.
I don’t explain my feelings. They don’t matter much now. I say
softly “No, no”. But what am I denying, and for whom
“What did they tell you at the visa office” I ask.
“One impoooortant fella came to me with a water gun in his
hand”, Ozan is telling me the story in a cartoon voice while making
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