seres manda's learning to walk

Seres Manda and the 10th Panda

Seres Manda makes his way under the hill on which what once was the Vysehrad castle stands, the plush head of a panda bear strapped tightly to his backpack. A variety of corpses continue to litter the cratered thoroughfare that snails towards the remains of Koh-i-noor offices in the far distance. Most of the buildings are gone, the few that remain are without walls.

Stepping over the rubble of a once great bridge high above that at some point in time served as a favored final destination to many, the boy notices an outline of a fat bear in front of a house mostly intact couple hundred meters ahead. Some light creeps out through covered up windows.

"Clavicular!" The boy exclaims and cheers up.

The bear head says nothing.

The rustled street with tram rails long ripped, removed and exchanged for cigarettes and soda cans, left behind a trail just wide enough for the boy's small feet. He tiptoes through, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, immitating the sounds of what he thought a tram might sounded like.

After foot-stepping for a short while, the tram tracked crevice leads the boy to the establishment where the lights are still on. A panda in dark aviator glasses and a black suit stands guard by the door. Replicas of various ethnic carpets hang over the boarded up windows.

"Excuse me, can I come inside?"

The bear sizes up the boy, but doesn't hesitate. "Does little sir have an interest in our produce? This is the finest establishment of its kind in the city. And the last one too."

"That means it could be really bad!" Replies Manda quickly.

"It's not like little sir would know without comparison."

"That's true, I guess."

The panda smirks. Seemingly amused by Manda's playfulness. "That being said, if little sir would like a temporary lady friend, he certainly won't be dissapointed here."

"You mean a whore? Not really, I don't think. Are there any video games inside?"

"Well... There is a slot machine by the bar, but it's mostly decorative - it doesn't pay anything, mind you-"

"So it's true! Old gramps in Beroun used to tell us kids that whorehouses hoard the best games! I never played a casino video game before! I want to try!"

"And how will little sir be paying, if I may be so bold? One does have to buy something, if he's to come inside."

The boy takes off his backpack, places it by his feet and digs in. He pulls out 2 ziplocked bags with pieces of flesh in various states of decay, holds them up and announces boastfully:

"Meat!"