Зелик (L)

This is a book, or rather a little book of memoirs, letters to oneself, a story for no one, rough notes on a tear-off calendar, "a diary in the form of a novel".
This is a book about the end of an era, about timelessness, about translucent destinies, about vulgarity in the void", about "graying young men and elderly girls", about sixtieth childhood and seventieth youth, about oneself.
The book is collected from yellowed drafts and notes ten to twenty years ago. to remind those who still remember something about that timelessness:
"There was such Zelik. A man without a last name. "What do you say your name is?" they asked him. "Just Zelik," replied Zelik.
This is a book about Zelik, who is no longer recognizable.