After nearly a month away from Motovun, I found my post office box stuffed full. As usual, little of the mail brings any joy. There are bills galore, as well as a whole bunch of bank statements and the like. To add zest to the pile, there is a letter from the tax authorities in Britain. They want me to fill some forms and have them stamped by the Croatian tax authorities. Although I am a perfect citizen of both countries as far as taxes are concerned, the chore is not exactly to my liking. And filling fucking forms is definitely a chore, as is communicating with fucking tax authorities anywhere around the globe. If hell is changing over time, now it surely smacks of bureaucracy. There are untold forms to fill, lines to stand in, and stamps to collect along the way. Modern hell teeming with bureaucrats… Dante Alighieri would have quite a job to rewrite his Divine Comedy today. And the Italian tax authorities would be all over him all the time.