The secret of hippocampus

N. Lygeros

Translated from the Greek by Angeliki Papadopoulou




Nobody knew where I was. Nobody was searching for me where he should, but the color of invisible was in danger. The scumbags had started their work. They were erasing the memory of Humanity. They were searching for chameleons in all the places of the world. And I didn't dare to sleep. They were all waiting for me. I had to live. It was the only way so that the humaneness would be saved. The fanatics of oblivion had erased each trace of history from the books. Those were harmless for the system. Then the humans decided to become books. They shouldn't forget something from the works of Humanity. Each one tried to remember what he could. Because the chameleons were not enough to set up the libraries of future. So, when the fanatics caught one human, they did not kill him, they removed his memory and he transformed into individual. The system had need from bigger mass in order to consolidate. And to enhance its inaction, there had to be individuals. So, the humans were becoming increasingly fewer and chameleons even rarer.
For years I was looking where to hide, but vainly. I'd only got the answer when I met one chameleon. At first I didn't know that he had spotted me. I thought that I was unsavory and indeed useless for Humanity. I was reading the works of Dostoevsky, but in my own way. All I managed to realize was that I was neither an individual nor chameleon. I rejoiced for the first, but what to say about the second. I came to a point of wondering If I were a human. And it took me years to understand the invention of chameleon. All those years I was looking for the secret of existence and didn't see that I was the same secret. I belonged to the corners of the polytope. I was one of the vertex contacts. Without us, the peculiarities were isolated and their works couldn't have the range that should. Even humans, the sides of polytope, had no limits without our presence. I was listening to the chameleon, but I didn't dare to think. For so many years I hid my work because I didn't know which my role was. But now that I knew it, what should I do?
When the chameleon left, the question remained. It was not what it should, but what should I do. But at least I knew it. Creativity was my work. And finally, I was seeing the color of invisible. Then I remembered the thieves and ragias and understood that I was Master. And the genus was Humanity. I no longer thought about how much time I had lost. Now I had to teach the memory in a creative way so that the humans to exist through the work of chameleon. I felt beautifully for the first time in my life. Since then I am hiding among the children and I don't hope for anything anymore because the kiss of sun touched me and I know the depth of shadow.







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