“You may ask: well, how should we understand this stupid title? Here’s how. Since I was either twenty-two or twenty-three, every morning, early in the morning, voices have been heard in my head. That’s what I call them: “Theater of Morning Voices.” Staying in bed, I lie and listen to them talk in the echo chamber between my ears. Sooner or later they become very loud - arguing, or declaiming passionately, or competing in wit with the tip of a rapier. Then I jump up (quietly) and sit down at the typewriter while the echo is still ringing in my head. And by noon I already have a story, or a poem, or an act of a play, or a chapter of a novel ready...” Translation: Natasha Allunan