The Smuggler King´s Son

The smuggler’s thoughts never go along borders only over them; the frontier neither means a line nor the czar’s pen stroke (because as you know, this border was drawn by chance). It’s much more a kind of back-room to him, for people to meet and make deals. They don’t sign contracts there, they only shake hands. And where one hand meets another, you can find the frontier’s third room, also called the small room of deals. This is a novel about the border-philosophy…