Lucky, instead of Krania, that’s what some older folks called the town, and the title is very fitting, not a single homicide in decades. Property disputes and marital betrayals had not driven locals to extreme behaviors. The local Police dealt with violations of quiet hours, traffic code violations, burglaries, insults, and disturbances over football and political issues.

Over time, Stelios Spougyas had joined the spirit of the majority of the locals, who believed that the two most useful verbs in life are to make do and to unmake do. A couple of times, after Chionia left him for the scientist and asked for a divorce, he had considered getting up and leaving like a gentleman, why not to Australia, so far away like a case of Another World.

But there was the little one, his only son, Chronis. So he didn’t run away; he stayed framed, inflating the meaning of the shop and the special weight of relationships with the variety of customers. Some mornings he would open the window, look up and send messages to the recipient, heaven of Krania, poor you, what have you revealed bright, what have you buried dark.

Then he would also address himself, hey stupid Stelios, why don’t you go see if I’m coming?