For the little ones who are reading now, I'm going to satisfy their thirst of adventure. We're talking about a very beautiful subject that brings joy – at least, we hope so!  A Holy Day - The rebirth of our martyr Lord, Jesus Christ. Easter is considered by the Romanians as one of the most beautiful moments of the year when they can celebrate with their families whilst eating in the name of God. That's how the stories begin.
I, a simple boy, an ordinary teenager, celebrated Easter at Manuc's Inn in Bucharest, the most rustic area of the capital city's Old Town, where the Treaty of Bucharest was signed in 1812. Manuc’s Inn was built by Manuc Bey, an Armenian merchant and diplomat. The whole event happened during the 2020 pandemic. The lockdown started near Easter. It consisted of wearing sanitary masks, staying indoor for as much time as possible and only getting out with a signature requiring self – declaration – a document issued by the Romanian government (by the Ministry of Heath) and public social distancing, given the establishment of the emergency state. Imagine Easter without any gatherings. It sounds like a pleonasm, as far as I'm concerned.
I was there with my friends, obeying all the rules (laws) issued by the Romanian authorities. We were able to celebrate that Holy Day. We were talking while being seated around a table made out of fir wood, when one of us felt a hard object falling out from underneath the table. We got startled and we looked under the table.
An old book with a dark gray cover was at our feet. With our eyes showing sparkled curiosity,
we lifted the book up with carefulness and we placed it on the table with finesse.
We were all confused, why would this book be here? I picked it up carefully trying not to couch from the dust book collected. (Damn, it was heavy!). Everyone looked at me like, we were ready for a story time. I took a deep breath and opened it. Right away, that book smashed on the table with a supernatural force.

A flash of white light and boom! We still have no idea how we got over ground. The book was at my armpit, but now it's much grayer. Anyway, we were on a random street. We reached to a citizen to ask for the date and time and we got the confirmation. It was Easter morning, 1988. We couldn’t just interview people on the street in a group due to many reasons, so we had to pretend we didn’t know each other when one of us was talking to a stranger. We would just walk until we were too far to be considered shady observers of any kind. It didn’t work. We should’ve expected that, haha. People can’t talk to you about stuff like this, they simply can’t trust you.
The average citizen probably wouldn’t be punished for going to the church, but people with higher positions in society at the time, let’s say ”construction workers” or ”cashiers”, would definitely be.
Everything is so quiet, everyone minding their business; kids playing with their toys, teenagers playing football in the street (only a few cars to have been run at the time). No one at home for celebrating with their families. All disco clubs were full of students. I guess they couldn't celebrate it, too.
How sad can it be to go to school on a Holy Day, shame! While having a walk with my folks, a light came out from my armpit. The book got brighter on a side. Some models appeared out of nowhere. One symbol of 5 was highlighted (we all figured out that those symbols represented our time in the "OUTSIDE"). Hours and hours had been passing by, life in that period was so colorful but so restricted. No respect for people. No churches open for the celebration. Empty. We could hear the people on secretly listening to the radio, later discovering that was Free Europe Radio. Life had more reasons to be together in those harsh times. No food like these days could be found. You could even come empty handed.
I was feeling sorry for the hopeless people. Suddenly, The Book started beating like a heart and second by second it was rising faster and faster. At the last 220 bpm, book's cover got a shiny golden look, so golden that it almost blinded us. One minute of unconsciousness needed to take us to the same table we were sitting around before; this time the book kept its golden cover but not as bright as before…