How do you know?

My mother had taken me, by the hand most of the time, to see a psychologist. I waited in a waiting room during my mother’s interview with the psychologist. I then received a telepathic message from my father that turn me out twelve just on seeing a mother and her daughter also waiting seated in the room.

-I am not here because I need a psychologist –I said to them as if I were twelve, twelve indeed like when I was twelve, doing gestures as if I was making a speech for everybody, for everything in the world too, so intense was the state of my mind that my father had transported me to.

We remained the same, I was standing beside them and they seated waiting.The little gril asked me::

-Why then are you here for?

-My mother knows I am a terrorist but she has told me to come because she feigns she knows, and some reason must she have to do this.

The mother asked me:

-Why are you a terrorist?

-I have been a terrorist since a long time ago.

-The mother asked again:

-I mean, why?

-I am a revolutionary soldier since very young- I said looking fixedly at their eyes.

The daughter asked:

-How old are you?

-I am twenty-four- I replied.

-You are still very young. Do not risk your life recklessly– the mother said.

-Everyboy knows my plan to remove Capital from power- I told them doing manners like when I was a speaker and twelve.

Both of them had realised I was a young man twenty-four and at same time under a spell which made me more younger still. My faher and I knew at that moment I was like I was when I was twelve. For a momemt we three remained silent.

-How do you know? We knew nothing about you till now—the mother said.

-Everybody is watching me now, this very moment, and they can see what I am doing.

They had fallen under the spell embracing the very probable new enrichment knowledge. We remained silent again.

The daughter asked then very interestedly:

-What would  you do if your plan to take the power removing Capital turns out successfully?

I responded thus:

-We  shall erradicate misery and poverty, bring real freedom, equality, social  justice and order, agreeing in the revolutionary process that leads us to perennial revolution,

-Well- said the mother- Which would it be your first step to remove Capital?- she wanted to know.

-Killing the dummy king and the sneaker president- I said going on being true , faith to my principles and to my first intentions to carry out Revolution.

-They live not caring about you in their palaces- told me the mother plainly.

-My plan is to kill them wherever they are-. Mother and daughter wanted to listen attentively. Of course- I continued -,  it means their palaces were on the target, bombed or assaulted.

-That’s a foolish plan- said the mother-. It does not seem there is an atmosphere of revolution anywhere –she said later after a silence.

-How do you know if many people have not crowded in the strrets to carry out Revolution and to kill the dummy king and the sneaker president and to bomb and to assault their palaces?

-Well, that will be very unlikely to happen- the mother said.

-I mean, it might be happening this instant. I mean, this very instant.

Just then my mother appeared in the waiting-room and an attendant called out the mother my new friend by her name and she went out with her daughter into another room after the attendant. I said so long to them. They half turned rather accomplices to say goodbye. My mother seated and I remained standing.

-What have you been saying to them?- asked my mother.

-We were talking- I replied.

-What about?

I had not left doing my twelve manners and talking like a speaker. My mother realised this and I saw a tear falling down from my mother’s eye. I tried to explain to my mother once more what she knew for sure, what I had been talking about since a long time ago. I was conscious of the impossibility of telling her but that at that moment I was twelve and I saw to my relief and to my great joy my mother was containing her laughter and could not feign her smile of sheer delight.

-Do not say these things to the psychologist.

-Well, I must, mama. I do not want them to believe I am not stone cold sober.