" A few old men are still nesting on the benches and I say, “Pavka, am I like them? Dried up and ugly.” “You are like them,” he says, “except not ugly.” “I wish I was a kid again. But I don’t suppose you understand.” “I wish I was an old man.” He takes a silent breath. “I’ve noticed, dyadka, that when old men speak, the young ones listen. And no one listens to a kid. But if I was old, I’d talk to my dad.” We "

― Miroslav Penkov , East of the West: A Country in Stories