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Thinking back, we did many crazy things. We dared each other to jump off the roofs, and always seemed to have skinned knees and elbows. We rode our bikes like madmen trying to find out who was the fastest. We hunted birds with catapults. Once, Sunny took his father’s air rifle, and we shot a thrush. It was so small, so defenseless. I still remember that first acquaintance with death very well, and that uncomfortable feeling of pity and frustration. Why? Just like that? For fun? But I didn’t find it funny. It seemed too cruel. We buried the thrush and never hunted animals again – at least not together as children.

Sunny was undoubtedly the leader, but I tried to keep up. Looking back on those days, I realise that he was always walking a tightrope. Always tempting fate. I wonder what were his chances of growing up.

When we were a little older, we started playing football in the school playground with other guys, but I found it boring. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t really interested in kicking a ball. I much preferred sitting on the rocky shore of the hazy Danube early in the morning and dreaming about the future.