The Brick That Flew Through Time

Once upon a time, in a quiet wine cellar near Kyiv, in the year 1986, there lived a particularly stubborn brick. This brick was not like the others. From the very first ray of sunlight that filtered through the cellar windows, it sensed that it was not destined for ordinary walls and houses.

The brick was red and round, halfway intact, with tiny deposits of mortar that glittered like little stars. It dreamed of seeing the world— Not just the normal world, but the world of times.

One night, as the moon shimmered over the hills of Kije, the brick suddenly began to rotate in its own timeline. Slowly, then faster and faster, it became a small, swirling tornado of stone and mortar, piercing time.

With a quiet "pop," it suddenly found itself in 1989, in Zary, between prefabricated buildings and a park that was still young and green back then. It was still spinning in the air, almost horizontally, as if riding an invisible rainbow.

There, on its way, it met a small child on a bicycle. Only a tiny corner of its red body brushed the child—and the child felt only a gentle, almost magical blow. The brick laughed softly, for it knew: It had outsmarted the laws of space and time.

After touching its target, the brick flew on, spun once more, then disappeared into the street in a glittering shower of sparks. No one saw it again—but the stories of the brick traveling through time were still being told in Wendland and the surrounding area for many years before.

And so the brick taught everyone that sometimes even the most solid things—like bricks and walls—can break. can overcome timeif they are only brave enough to turn.