Journey to Russia by Dragana Obradovic

Author:Dragana Obradovic
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sandorf Passage
Published: 2021-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

“If I’m fined, I’ll pay,” the girl answered calmly and continued what she was doing.

“But I forbid you from sticking bits of paper in the car I’m responsible for! Citizen, did you hear me?”

“Why are you yelling at me? The times are past when men yelled at women!”

“I’m not yelling at all, citizen. I’m just calmly asking you to remove those stickers now!”

“I will not!”

“But I’m telling you to remove them at once, and if you don’t I’ll call the police!”

“Go ahead then, if you must. This is ridiculous! Why are you threatening me with the police, and why are you yelling at me?”

“So you really want me to call the police, do you? Alright, you asked for it!” The irritated conductor hysterically pulled the cord of the bell three times to signal the driver to stop. “Let’s see if the police will help bring you to your senses.”

Agitated and offended in his dignity, the conductor started to fight his way through the passengers toward the exit. The streetcar stopped.

Other passengers: “Why didn’t you take off your silly labels like he asked? What sort of game is that?”

The second proletarian girl, who until then had sat in silence, in a lofty, neutral voice: “Why was he yelling, what gives him the right to yell? We know very well what we’re allowed to, and what not!”

A man with an emotionless, Beethovenesque face: “Comrades, please, would you take down your silly little stickers, we’re in a hurry and don’t have time for this nonsense!”

A student with a bag full of books: “Exactly. We can’t let the stupidity of others hold us up!”

The widow in her mourning veil, in a semblance of solemnity, above all earthly embroilments: “Is it worthy of a woman to play with things like this?”

The girl who until then had calmly busied herself with the stickers, in an agitated and slightly trembling voice: “What are you trying to say? What do you mean: ‘play with things like this’? With what things, and what do you mean by ‘play’? Sorry, citizen, I’m not in the least curious to know your opinion, seeing as it’s less than intelligent!”

A citizen with a pointy little beard and pince-nez got up and squeezed his way through to one of the freshly applied stickers on the streetcar’s window, removed his pince-nez, leaned toward the glass, and read: “MOPR.”

Several passengers left their seats after that shortsighted citizen, and all of them pushed and shoved their way to the little sticker on the window to try to decipher the mysterious significance of those hieroglyphs: MOPR.

The other girl: “Come on, citizens, please just keep out of this. It’s is absolutely none of your business!”

A man in a black shirt: “Those are labels of the International Workers Aid Society, MOPR, an organization to help revolutionaries. Our comrades are rotting in prisons in Europe and need help. International Red Aid is a good thing. It can’t be banned!”

The tram had stopped on one of the busiest streets leading from Theater

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