World of Infanks

World of Infanks


A strange creature, with hair either tightly curled or elaborately kinked, wore

an oversized sweater of coarse, home-knit yarn. The garment left nothing for a

bewildered gaze to fix upon but a pair of matchstick, bluish-white ankles

sticking out of old rubber galoshes. Flicking a cheap Chinese flashlight-lighter,

this being illuminated a puny bush. Suddenly, the shrub erupted in a brilliant

flash of white light, which was instantly replaced by a couple of seconds of

deafening darkness.


Indeed, a person can only truly feel human when looking at the world through the

sights of a Merkava tank. How utterly vulgar all those other heroes and

daredevils look in comparison! Following a successful shot, he leaned back in his

chair, but for some reason, the seat back collapsed backward. The tank lurched

forward, rocking gently.


"Vitalik, are you alive?"


He opened his eyes to see his wife's tear-stained face. Behind her stood a

paramedic in a white coat, carrying a stretcher that held, as he guessed, his own

body.


"Did you find the keys?"


"Yes, they melted from the lightning strike. Only your tank keychain survived."


"Cool. That tank must have saved my life."




Original Russian text published on proza.ru/avtor/alexanderan
Author: Alexandr Piatkov
Copyright: Alexandr Piatkov, 2015
Publication Certificate No. 215062501835
English translation by AI Assistant (GPT-4o Model, 2026)