Life is too short for boring stories

The director’s gaze was unreadable. Excited anticipation was in the air until he finally said: “Julia, stand there. You’re not completely out of the race yet, who knows what nonsense is yet to come. Though it will be hard to top yours, but it’s entirely possible. So, Kiara, go ahead and tell us what you’ve come up with.” The addressee, a delicate person with long red hair, fair skin and freckles quintessentially Irish, stepped forward and did as the director asked.

“With the wind came a girl, no, actually a young woman. Suddenly she was standing there. In one hand she held a suitcase, one of the cheapest kinds, and in the other she held the drawbar of a ladder wagon. Now she let go of the tiller and put the suitcase down. Three hens jumped out of the wagon and immediately began to scratch and peck at the ground full of joy and enthusiasm. ‘Grandmother’ said the girl while she let her eyes wander over the old people, first questioning, then recognizing, ‘Grandmother’ she called out. The women, who were actually all grandmothers and listened accordingly, lifted their sad eyes, but knowledge was reflected in only one face. She slowly got up and walked towards the young woman until she reached her. She stopped in front of it to take a good look at it. Finally, the old woman reached up to touch the other’s cheek, as if afraid it was just a figment of her imagination, but it was real. She could feel it. ‘Viola, my violet, it really is you, after all these years,’ the old woman said before taking the young one in her arms. This allowed it. Finally, the grandmother let go of the granddaughter and looked at her questioningly. There were so many questions that she didn’t know where to begin. ‘I’ll tell you everything, grandmother’, said Viola, ‘but first only so much. I haven’t visited you for so long because I was forbidden to. When we moved away, I was still too young and nobody wanted to tell me where you lived. Now I finally found out and I remembered the farm where you live and where I was so happy back then. I left to stay with you.’ ‘Here, where there is only old age and death?’ replied the grandmother. Viola said that she had heard that everyone who could possibly have moved away from here. There was nothing more, but plenty of space and the opportunity to lead an individual life. As it turned out, the farm was pretty run down because nothing had been done for years, but friends of Viola came and rebuilt it. Animals arrived, occupying the stables and former pastures, bringing joy to the village. More young people came, settled the vacant houses, and it was decided that all houses, abandoned or not, would become common property in those that were not abandoned, with the consent of those who lived in them. A foundation was established for this purpose. Affordable housing and lots of free space. Young families came supporting the old and the old supported the young families. The village became colorful and inviting. A grocer opened and a baker, and all the other little shops that you need. When all the houses were inhabited, no one was allowed to move any more. A separate, small community was created in which everyone looked out for each other, helped each other as best they could, and all the joys and sorrows were shared. A speculator became aware of this and tried to buy the houses from the people, but after everything belonged to everyone, he bit his teeth on granite. That’s why he bribed the provincial governor so that he should ensure that this construct was condemned as illegal, because in a democratic, legal state like Austria, in which property rights were paramount, everything shouldn’t belong to everyone. Then a resident of the village of the elderly entered the scene. He had been a lawyer and managed to send the speculators away. The governor was so angry that he had the only access road closed, but he couldn’t keep that up for long either, and it didn’t particularly bother the residents because they had everything they needed on site. Finally, they gave the place a name “Village of the Old & Young” they called it. There has never been a more peaceful way of dealing with one another anywhere else.” With that, Kiara finished and looked expectantly at the director.

“A great story,” he said, “Julia, we’ll take yours.” “But why?” Kiara said, surprised. “It’s a great story,” reiterated the director, “Full of hope and zest for life and faith. But imagine if people actually put that into practice. This is a call for revolution, a feasible revolution. That’s why we prefer to make people stupid. Super rescuers can’t make revolutions, but they can distract people from reality. That’s why movies are made to keep things the way they are and keep people entertained.” And Kiara decided to do just that, find a place where her dream could be realized. A revolution.

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