A Day in the Flesh

Llevulok Ritor is Hungarian and lives in a small house in Györ. He is thirty-two but one wouldn’t notice, as his eyes radiate some kind of mysterious youth that makes other people around feel old themselves.

Everybody knows him, although not personally. This is because he is so very quiet a person. He doesn’t like talking very much, but that is kind of a relief as the sound of his voice is so shrilly and distorted that it would make a sheep go red in envy. “Holy mother of fuck !” The sheep would say.

Llevulok’s most important dream is to be left alone in total silent bliss, in a forest somewhere or high in the mountains. That is because he can’t stand life in a city. He thinks those are too big, too noisy, and most of all that they stink the hell out of his nose, especially on Friday afternoon when sweaty people run around yelling and drinking, wearing silly hats and all that.

No matter what he tells himself, no matter what his mother or his stepmother (he has two mothers) tell him, that won’t change. His life lies elsewhere, far away. And until he meets his fate, he won’t say a word.

Ever since Llevulok finished school with special mention “oral exams had to be done with a pen but still, kudos”, he has been working as a butcher in a local supermarket. In fact, it was more of a hyper-gigamarket : as big as twenty cathedrals, with entire rows dedicated to fish sticks or alcohol, many many different kinds of peanuts and ridiculous signs everywhere to guide customers. It was so enormous that his little butchery stand seemed lost in a small corner. And he liked that, as you may now understand if you know the man.

Although he is a vegetarian, he doesn’t mind working around dead flesh too much. He cannot stand to kill to eat or even the taste of meat, but cutting and wrapping it wasn’t all that bad. In fact he is very good at it, even if he is absent-mindedness incarnate. The only downside was of course that he wouldn’t talk to the customers, so they had to get an assistant hired to help people choose their favourite dead animal while he cut and cut. And kept his mouth shut.

Mister Ritor, that’s about it.

During the day he is that peculiar man cutting meat to earn money to buy vegetables to eat. But during the night, everything changes. When he returns from work, the shiny gleam in his eyes grows stronger and shinier, making him look like a strange cat on two legs.

Llevulok Ritor was not a normal person.

He tried his best not to make other people find out about his true identity and so far he had managed to do that pretty well. He was a super-hero whose name was Plant-Man, and whose fearsome supranatural power was the ability to turn into a plant. The process was quick, and it had gone unnoticed for years now. With a small green flash that lasted about one or two seconds, he transformed into a beautiful ficus and transported himself magically in his garden.

The moon shone bright, like a great celestial eye, sole witness of this nightly miracle. And there he lain gazing at the stars, extending his leaves farther and farther. At last, night engulfed every single noise in the street. People slept quietly, or minded their own business with passion. Some snored, it can’t be helped, but Llevulok had no ears anymore so it was no big deal. As time passed, he began to get drowsy too, fell into slumber and started to sleep.

To sleep, perchance to dream.

One day though, he knew that people would discover his secret, and then their jealousy would know no bound. As always. With that in mind, he intended to enjoy every second of it. And that he did all night. Until he woke up in his bed, and began looking for his slippers as usual.