In the novel “Limpopo” - the diary of a young ostrich lady, translated into the language of homo sapiens and published by Geza Szöcz - we find ourselves on an ostrich farm located “somewhere in Eastern Europe”, the inhabitants of which want to understand why they are so uncomfortable in well-heated farm enclosures. Why at night do they hear the call of another homeland, another existence, another continent that promises freedom? Can an ostrich learn to fly, since nature has given it wings? And can he escape? And where? And what does flying even mean? These are familiar questions, aren’t they? I remember that George Orwell told us about such an attempt to get rid of bondage in Animal Farm. And about how it all ended. Later, a completely different story, but also “from the life of animals,” was told to us by the American Richard Bach in his philosophical and metaphysical parable “The Seagull Named Jonathan Livingston.” And our contemporary Victor Pelevin, in his early story “The Recluse and the Six-Fingered,” parodying “Jonathan,” composed a story about the escape of two broiler chickens from the Lunacharsky poultry plant, who, by the way, are also puzzling over a mysterious phenomenon called flight. This is not parody. alien in its full of grotesquerie, language play and inimitable humor to the fairy tale is Geza Söch, who deliberately mixes old-fashioned writing techniques (here is a found manuscript, and a mediating narrator, and linear development of the plot, and even a positive hero, or rather, a heroine) with ironically rethought ones attributes of postmodernist writing - numerous digressions, comments and citations of ideas and texts, borrowed and their own, poetic, philosophical and social.