As is futurr ekonomika

Previously

…The first profit arrived in the autumn, a bank transfer in a number that felt like a signature. I had not lost money. I had not made much. But I had participated—in damp earth and new wood, in a family’s hope, in the long memory of a lake. That was wealth beyond any ledger. Now I sit in my Vilnius apartment, the postcard propped on a shelf. Outside, the city hums its restless tune. But the root is there, in Trakai, and the loan—that participating line of trust—still connects me to the water and the sky. Maybe that is what home means: not ownership, but shared risk. A handshake across time, with a promise of return, even if the return is only a glimpse of the castle from a borrowed window.