![]() ![]() The suit was wearing a necktie, a fountain pen stuck from its pocket, but above the collar there was neither neck nor head, just as there were no hands sticking out of the sleeves. Consciousness left him.Īt a huge writing desk with a massive inkstand an empty suit sat and with a dry pen, not dipped in ink, traced on a piece of paper. Styopa quietly gasped and sank down on his side, his head striking the ![]() ‘I’m not drunk,’ Styopa replied hoarsely, ‘something’s happened to ‘I implore you, tell me what city is this?’ Then Styopa pulled the following stunt: he knelt down before the unknown smoker and said: He looked at Styopa with wild eyes and stopped spitting. Some man was standing on the jetty, smoking and spitting into the sea. Not knowing how to behave in such a case, Styopa got up on his trembling legs and walked along the jetty towards the shore. When he opened his eyes properly, he realized that the noise was being made by the sea and, what’s more, that the waves were rocking just at his feet, that he was, in short, sitting at the very end of a jetty, that over him was a brilliant blue sky and behind him a white city on the mountains. Opening his eyes slightly, he saw himself sitting on something made of stone. And then the bedroom started spinning around Styopa, he hit his headĪgainst the doorpost, and, losing consciousness, thought: ‘I’m dying.’īut he did not die. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |