Pogreb

Nobody knows when village idiot France became insane. Who knows what he knows, what he can hear or think. Nobody knows who lies in the coffin the miners are carrying. Nobody can tell what France sees and feels while playing his flute. Who are they going to burry? Who is France playing for? He lives in his own world of blissfulness. The motif of the story is taken from a social lyrical poem of the Slovenian poet Mile Klopčič.