…But maybe this is a mistake?
It must be different!
- Oh, it’s ……, cowardice. There must be a life rule: еrrаrе humanum est. What? Make mistakes! And what kind of mistakes can be made?
Indeed: it was a reality as a pack of hungry wolves. But it was also the only way to “lakes of unknown beautiful commune”.
…And then I burned in the fire of fanaticism and clearly reflected the steps on the north road.
…Silent procession was approaching to pinewood I do not remember being aranged nuns, but I remember:
I went to the Doctor and put his hand on my shoulder:
- Your mother there! Do, whatever you want!
I looked:
- Figure stood out from the crowd and quietly went to on the edge of the forest alone.
…Moon was at the zenith and hanging over the abyss. Further away in the green and lemon obscurity dead road. To the right looms outpost of my battalion. And at this moment there was a bountiful garden on fire – gunfire again beat anxiety. It departed insurgents, then notices the enemy. – Side exploded shell.
… I took a holster mauser and quickly went to a lonely figure. And then, I remember, that fire broke short: so that was finishing with the nuns.
And then, I remember –
From outskirts of pinewood our armored car was beat an alarm. – Buzzed the forest.
Flashed up the fire – one,
two –
and more – beat! beat!
Hostile armies are pushing. We must hurry. Oh, you must hurry!
But I go and go, and lonely figure of my mother is there. She stands, raising her hands and sadly looking at me. I hasten to the enchanted outskirt of pinewood and a lonely figure is the same, at the same place.
Not a thing to be seen anywhere. Only a month pouring green world permeated with the zenith. I keep on hand the mauser, but my hand is weak and I’m on the point of crying with trivial tears – like in childhood, on the warm chest.
I’m trying to shout:
- Mother! I’m saying: come to me! I have to kill you. Sad voice is cutting my brain. Again I hear the mother says, that I (her rebellious son) absolutely tortured myself..
…What is it? Is it again hallucination?
I brush head up.
Yes, it was a hallucination: I have long stood on the empty outskirts of pinewood in front of my
mother and looked at her.
She was silent.
… Armored car screams in the pinewood.
Fire was rising. A storm is coming on. The enemy went on the attack. The insurgents are departing.
