Our fathers were the last fathers. All that followed was silence and Mum’s partners. Dad. Daddy. Nobody says ‘Father’ any more unless it is a kind of a joke, not really serious and without any significance attached to it. The hell of fathers has been filled up completely. Smoke is bursting onto their faces. They dance being aware that there are no more places available, that this last layer of bodies will cover everything. The hell closes above them. As for us there are no illusions. We are different. We read about genes in newspapers, hoping and believing. We look for salvation in a genetic code. We look for hope for fathers’ spring which is not to come. At the 20th Ministry of Culture and National Heritage All- Polish Competition for Production of Contemporary Polish Play the production was awarded a group prize for the best performance. Its director Lukasz Witt-Michalowski was awarded an individual prize.