sharp, mocking triangle of brows drawn to the temples looked at me from the mirror. She turned around to say something but said nothing.
It was not necessary; I knew.
To bid her good-bye, I moved my foreign limbs, struck the chair with them. It fell upside down, dead, like the table in her room. Her lips were cold ... just as cold was once the floor, here, near my bed....
When she left I sat down on the floor, bent over the cigarette-butt....
I cannot write any more—I no longer want to!
Record Thirty Nine
The End
All this was like the last crystal of salt thrown into a saturated solution; quickly, needle-like crystals began to appear, to grow more substantial and solid. It was clear to me; the decision was made and tomorrow morning I shall do it! It amounts to suicide but perhaps then I shall be re-born. For only what is killed can be re-born.
Every second the sky twitched in convulsion there in the west. My head was burning and pulsating inside; I was up all night and I fell asleep only at about seven o’clock in the morning when the darkness of the night was already dispelled and becoming gray and when the roofs crowded with birds became visible....
I woke up; ten o’clock. Evidently the bell did not ring today. On the table—left from yesterday—there stood the glass of water. I gulped the water down with avidity and I ran; I had to do it quickly, as quickly as possible.
The sky was deserted, blue, all eaten up by the storm. Sharp corners of shadows.... Everything seemed to be cut out of blue autumnal air—thin, dangerous to touch; it seemed so brittle, ready to disperse into glass dust. Within me something similar; I ought not to think; it was dangerous to think, for....
And I did not think, perhaps I did not even see properly; I only registered impressions. There on the pavement, thrown from somewhere, branches were strewn; their leaves were green, amber and cherry-red. Above, crossing each other, birds and aeros were tossing about. Here below heads, open mouths, hands waving branches.... All this must have been shouting, buzzing, chirping....
Then—streets empty as if swept by a plague. I remember I stumbled over something disgustingly soft, yielding yet motionless. I bent down—a corpse. It was lying flat, the legs apart. The face.... I recognized the thick negro lips which even now seemed to sprinkle with laughter. His eyes, firmly screwed in, laughed into my face. One second.... I stepped over him and ran. I could no longer.... I had to have everything done as soon as possible, or else I felt I would break, I would break in two like an overloaded sail....
Luckily it was not more than twenty steps away; I already saw the sign with the golden letters: “The Bureau of Guardians.” At the door I stopped for a moment to gulp down as much air as I could and stepped in.
Inside, in the corridor stood an endless chain of numbers, holding small sheets of paper and heavy note-books. They moved slowly, advancing a step or two and stopping again. I began to be tossed about along the chain, my head was breaking to pieces; I pulled them by the sleeves, I implored them as a sick man implores to be given something that would even at the price of sharpest pain end everything, forever.
A woman with a belt tightly clasped around her waist over the unif and with two distinctly protruding squatty hemispheres tossing about as if she had eyes on them, chuckled at me:
“He has a belly-ache! Show him to the room second door to the right!”
Everybody laughed, and because of that laughter something rose in my throat; I felt I should either scream or ... or....
Suddenly from behind some one touched my elbow. I turned around. Transparent wing-ears! But they were not pink as usual; they were purplish red; his Adam’s apple was tossing about as though ready to tear the covering....
Quickly boring into me: “What are you here for?”
I seized him.
“Quickly! Please! Quickly! ... into your office.... I must tell everything ... right away.... I am glad that you.... It may be terrible that it should be you to whom.... But it is well, it is well....”
He too, knew her; this made it even more tormenting for me. But perhaps he too, would tremble when he should hear.... And we would both be killing.... And I would not be alone at that, my supreme second....
The door closed with a slam. I remember a piece of paper was caught beneath the door and it rustled on the floor when the door closed. And then a strange airless silence covered us as if a glass bell were put over us. If only he had uttered a single, most insignificant word, no matter what, I should have told him everything at once. But he was silent. So keyed up that I heard a noise in my ears, I said without looking at him:
“I think I always hated her from the very beginning.... I struggled.... Or, no, no, don’t believe me; I could have but I did not want to save myself; I wanted to perish; this was dearer to me than anything else ... and even now, even this minute, when I know already everything.... Do you know that I was summoned to the Well-Doer?”
“Yes, I do.”
“But what he told me! Please realize that it was equivalent to ... it was as if some one should remove the floor from under you this minute, and you and all here on the desk, the papers, the ink ... the ink would splash out and cover everything with blots....”
“What else? What further? Hurry up, others are waiting!”
Then stumbling, muttering, I told him everything that is recorded in these pages.... About my real self, and about my hairy self, and about my hands ... yes ... exactly that was the beginning. And how I would not do my duty then, and how I lied to myself, and how she obtained false certificates for me, and how I grew worse and worse, every day, and about the long corridors underground, and there beyond the Wall....
All this I threw out in formless pieces and lumps. I would stutter and fail to find words. The lips double-curved in a smile would prompt me with the word I needed and I would nod gratefully: “Yes, yes!”.... Suddenly, what was it? He was talking for me and I only listened and nodded: “Yes, yes,” and then, “Yes, exactly so, ... yes, yes....”
I felt cold around my mouth as though it were wet with ether, and I asked with difficulty:
“But how is it.... You could not learn anywhere....”
He smiled a smile growing more and more curved; then:
“But I see that you do want to conceal from me something. For example, you enumerated everything you saw beyond the Wall but you failed to mention one thing. You deny it? But don’t you remember that once, just in passing, just for a second you saw me there? Yes, yes me!”
Silence.
Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, it became shamelessly clear to me: he—he too—. And all myself, my torment, all that I brought here, crushed by the burden, plucking up my last strength as if performing a great feat, all appeared to me only funny,—like the ancient anecdote about Abraham and Isaac; Abraham all in a cold sweat, with the knife already raised over his son, over himself—and suddenly a voice from above: “Never mind.... I was only joking.”
Without taking my eyes from the smile
