The main characters of these short stories have apperantly adjusted themselves to the rules of life but in their heart they still long for the time when future was fully open to them, when all was possible to come. They live in this world but they are not part of it. In the story “While we were flying to the Moon” the main character is sitting in a pub of the back streets of the town with a woman who also has little interst in the worldwide broadcast of the astronauts’ landing on the Earth’s satelite. They will soon make love in the light of their own moon, by far more beautiful and significant than the one out there, a desert and dusty Moon.

“.....By the open window. We are lying. Telephone. Time. It’s ringing. Cyber night. Let it ring. Patches of light. Night on things. In the rectangular panes. Rushlight in the ashtray amalgam-like in the dark. Two legs. Hers. Next to me. Bent in knees. Her arms. Everywhere. I don’t ask anything. She is here, she’ll leave. The inevitable. One more in the line. There are people to whom nothing ever happens. That’s why they don’t believe that something does happen to someone. Have I gone so far that I can’t believe what is happening to me?....”