So I left the firestair alone, turned away from the unkown character that warned me about waking the sleepingbeauty, and went down a road that led to an underground arena, surrounded by greek marbles and having a high ceiling. Two teams were playing soccer using a hard leather ball. From time to time, the ball would impact the walls and the whole cavern would resonate with something that resembled screams snatched out the statues. Someone must have noticed my presence, for I heard the players talking and pointing in my direction. They were people from all over the world, none of them was alike. They wore rags, and most of them looked hungry. I couldn’t understand their words, but I knew they were discussing if I could play with them. I took advantage of the hiatus and gave a stroll around the arena. Every marble had dents and cracks. I reached for the white nose of a chubby girl with small breasts and face like an old hag, and the nose fell off. Why I tried to leave it in its place? I couldn’t tell now, but at that moment I felt like it was something of the outmost importance. Once again I had broken something that I couldn’t and wouldn’t repair. I left the nose on the girl’s open hand and continued. The walls of the cavern, covered with petrified naked people in every conceivable posture, made me fell like I was the only human being still roaming the earth. Then I found him: bald, wearing some kind of blindfold, and looking like the branch of an old dry tree, when it’s swayed by the cold winter wind. He was squating inside a hole carved in the walls of the underground arena. With frenetic strength, holding on to the plastic child in his arms, he chanted somekind of lullaby in wildly diverse languages. What could I possibly do to ease his pain? I covered the hole with the rubble, so that none would ever find him again, and the statues began to sing.