The morning had made him feel the day was going to be different! He had woken up such alive. He also felt the need for power which made him forget, at least at that time, about the long and hard years of humiliation, when he had been the office boy for the party leaders. Those days and nights with ague, no sleep and a lot of hope. He was still feeling the soft knees of Dana under his buttocks. Some times! Adrian used to invite him over to admire his tomes or his paintings, or to count his eggs and to feel his thermal insulating windows from time to time. Those were the times when he had almost forgotten Nina, because he could never forget Nelu. He would have liked that, but he used to dream about him almost every night. His most obsessive dream was the one in which Nelu was calling him back from his job in Washington. However, the dream had a good side as well: in the morning, Nelu was replaced by Emil Constantinescu.
This was turning to be another nightmare, especially when he was remembering about the unpublished letter which he had sent to Milica, the letter in which he had agreed to serve the country. All these newer or older dreams and memories had passed and the great day had come. It was the day in which he would stab with his own hands. No matter the means, he just had to do it. He didnât have enough cold blood, but it was his "now-or-never!" day. The image of Dana was disappearing in his memories, which gave him more courage. The same courage that Mihaela gave him when he took part in the courses on housekeeping between the same paintings that an entire country got to see eventually. He did it in the end. With the full support of Vanghelie, Oprisan and other rooters. It was weird for him not to feel anything. No remorse, no fear, no shame, nothing!
Actually, he never felt anything. Now, as opposed to other times, he didnât quite have what to
