4
The binding
It’s time! The capsule was set on the spatula, one. The removable map case curved inwards lightly to the grooves, so he didn’t come, that’s two. The low flying attack aircraft hooked on to it, three! The buttonhole was added to the trigger, four! The barrel was screwed on but from the top of it’s the rifle scope, five, six! He checked the trigger for endurance, seven! He twisted the drum, pulled the shutter, eight, nine! All! Eleven seconds. A record.
He sighed, woke up. He passed over with his tongue along dry lips. Again these words, again heresy . . .
Nadya, Moscow, the 60s
Sometime, the 60s perhaps, Nadya opened ‘Neva’ and, let’s say, a monthly prescription, all valuable stuff was read there, over read, issued to the day, one piece only remained unread, she as before
