About the book: 1994 / When the square of sky visible from the prison window begins to darken, it always seems to me that my camera is plunging into some kind of whirlpool in well. This is akin to dizziness... I strain my ears in vain in the hope of catching at least some familiar noises coming from the depths of the city and giving me confidence that another life exists somewhere. Yes, life goes on... I hear the distant howl of a siren, or maybe the rumble of a truck engine entering the overpass leading to the prison... Sometimes it is the cry of a child, tearing apart the veil of silence and growing in my heart... It hurts me... I have parted forever with this life. For me there will no longer be the caress and bliss of summer evenings, the laughter of a child, the eyes of a woman... There will be no more whispers of cities, tender embraces of nature... I will no longer see the river bank, I will not hear the silky rustle of leaves in the wind... All that remains for me is a black and mysterious hole, in which I immerse myself more and more every day…