4
No, not along the avenue, but along Pirogovsky Street, to the Metro. The pigeons are in a frenzy on the eaves of the grey, Stalinist, barrack-like houses. It is Gamma who is leading me. Gamma plus Alpha. But Beta... Oh, Beta!...
I stop. I’m trembling.
And we go on. A bell is tolling in Novodevichy cemetery... Or am I imagining things? Never ask for whom the bell tolls... It’s clear: for you…
Home – Beta’s things, underwear… Dear God!
Just three years, yet already so familiar. I’d got used to it, although she didn’t live here, would just come over… And me, I lay down where the chalk plane had been and it carried us both away – then crashed into the tarmac.
