The Silent Express – Zaza Asatiani 21′

As super-thin electric doors moved apart, a wave of homogenous mass flooded a huge auditorium, which was filled up with stained sunlight coming through translucent walls of the room. In pairs of two, expressionless persons wearing a black formal attire positioned themselves across mirror-surfaced floor replicating every movement accompanied by the sense-debilitating muteness inside the room. Fittingly, the barely alive eyes could only convey artificial excitement—even if natural, they still had to behave decently no matter that there was no one observing but their reflections. In minutes, a very tall and unsettlingly lean woman shrugged in an oversized purple costume seemingly mimicking a particularly patchy shape of her shaved head appeared out of nowhere to occupy a red podium in the front part of the auditorium.

‘Hail the New Order!’ She cried out as if her whole existence depended on it.

‘Hail! Hail! Hail!’ Declared the spiritless crowd back to her.

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