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A guy lives on and on, yet suddenly—bang! —and he’s useless; then people stroll round in his position until eventually they too are senselessly destroyed. All you listen round is: bang, bang, bang! What’s to be performed? How do we struggle again? this is often the place literature is available in. i'm confident that almost all books are letters to the long run with a reminder of what happened—letters “to be known as for,” within the absence of a precise handle, retrospective makes an attempt to re-establish hyperlinks with oneself and one’s former kin and pals, who cross on dwelling and don’t observe that they're lacking folks. a guy disappears and you’ll by no means locate him back. He’s damaged up into his part elements and misplaced with out hint within the crowd. i have to get all of them again, name them jointly back. good day there! Vasily! hi, hi! Natasha! the place are you? Greta! Stepan Alekseyevich! the place are you all? hi there, Clovis! Leonardo da Vinci! resolution me! no longer a legitimate from any of them . . . every little thing is empty and lifeless, as if I had by no means had these 3 striking weeks, which have been too crowded for my terrible mind . . . i used to be published from my felony three hundred and sixty five days and 4 months later. Colonel Tarasov attempted tough for a very long time to revive my misplaced powers. He even fired clean cartridges at me, suspecting sabotage. however it didn’t paintings. Then they 116 The Icicle placed me in a personal sanitarium and taken care of me for 8 months. i started to stroll back. My sickness was once as a result of a sense of lack of confidence. i used to be afraid to maneuver my legs in case I stumbled and fell. As person who had bought used to figuring out every little thing previously, i discovered it tricky to come back to common existence with all its un foreseen occasions. If a physician in a white cap got here close to me, my center may beat violently. you notice, I simply didn’t comprehend no matter if he was once going to take my pulse or hit me at the nostril. Who may inform what used to be in the back of his brain? After this I had the colonel back. yet his undesirable mood was once long past and he was once very gloomy. They’d given him hell as a result of me—wasting time on an noticeable charlatan and falling for anti-scientific theories. The cognac we had inebriated at govt cost was once additionally held opposed to him. the area is stuffed with malicious humans. after which, instances had replaced. It used to be now 1953 and there has been a normal let-up. His profession used to be entire. nonetheless, we parted stable neighbors. He requested me to allow him comprehend if ever I regained my moment sight. i used to be additionally requested to signal a press release to the impact that i wouldn't privately interact in black magic or sorcery. I easily agreed to every little thing. i used to be forbidden to stay within the capital. I settled down within the provinces close to Yaroslavl, residing the lifetime of a hermit and dealing as a hydraulic engineer. In years I had knocked jointly the required sum—fifteen hundred rubles— and despatched it to Boris. the money order was once back to me. I made enquiries and located that Boris had died in February, 1954, of T. B. “7 FANTASTIC tales Who might have inspiration it? I didn’t suspect that in our final dialog I had spoken just like the oracle. yet even this raving nonsense had come precise . . . Now, in my retreat, I mourned his untimely loss of life.