“The winter cricket was once a summer cricket. But now it's winter, the snow is falling, and everything is white, the branches, the electric wire, the roofs. And he feels well that summer is far away, but so far that he hardly knows
to recall it. And he feels that he has become a winter cricket, a lonely winter cricket.”
This is how the fairy tale begins, in which the cricket recalls the memories of the beautiful summer spent on the island. He entered the room in the pocket of the sage-smelling backpack, where he spends the winter in great boredom. He jumps out of his backpack pocket, jumps onto the typewriter keys, and knocks down one letter at a time. Each typed letter evokes a beautiful summer memory. He accidentally knocks out this sentence:
"I long for the island."
István Csukás' fairy tale is published with illustrations by Ferenc Cakó.