“Let’s go.” Someone pushed him forward.
Sasha wobbled. Now he was able to walk stupidly, to be stupid, focusing only on the heavy plunking of blood.
They stopped him near the door.
“Are we going to walk him out like this?” someone asked.
One of them picked up a cloth from the floor, wiped his face quickly, but as soon as the rag was on the floor again, Sasha snorted, bloodying himself again so as to look as revolting as possible, to make it flow in rivers. A dull flash went off” inside his head. But he felt some base pleasure when they shouted at him angrily: “f*****g bastard! Why, you f*****g bastard…”
They forced his head down so that his face could not be seen and steered him down the hall — he purposefully snorted more, leaving a trail of blood like breadcrumbs in a fairy tale, as
