Zaza Burchuladze’s newest novel was written in the wake of the events of August 2008. The “small victorious war,” beneficial to the politicians of both countries, turned into a deep trauma for ordinary people. No, neither in reality nor on the pages of the book are ruins smoking and piles of corpses lying around. This strange war remains behind the scenes, but is invisibly present in thoughts as an obsessive neurosis. The relaxed life of a southern city, the dolce far niente of the golden youth of Tbilisi, a glass of cold white wine, an iPod forgotten by someone in a cafe, meaningless small talk, sunglasses that reflect a nearby cloud - all this sweet nonsense suddenly ceases to have any meaning. what sense does it make when a fighter jet flies in the sky? Probably, this life was not real even before the war, it’s just that the war, also small and unreal, exposed its illusory nature.