Green Light

On the outskirts of the city, where the gloom always clung to the ground like a thick fog, there was an old studio with large windows. Inside, among the marble, dust and silence, stood a man. Tall, slender, with his hands dirty from the stone chips and his thoughts far away. His name was Dorian Vellner.
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Na predmestí mesta, kde sa šero večne držalo pri zemi ako hustá hmla, sa týčil starý ateliér s veľkými oknami. Vo vnútri, medzi mramorom, prachom a tichom, stál muž. Vysoký, štíhly, s rukami zašpinenými od kameňovej drte a myšlienkami ďaleko odtiaľto. Volal sa Dorian Vellner.