Писатель: Пучеглазов Василий Яковлевич
ТОМ
Случайный абзац
Anyway, the "voice of the blood" connecting them barely sounded today in his present, in contrast to her, who was offended by the irregularity of his visits, tending her son that dropped in to see her as if he sojourned till then God knew how many months somewhere in the remote polar regions and she had been terribly missing him; whereas he, with his uninterrupted workload and work schedule of all seven days a week, could perfectly do without her, although she had not turned yet into a tiring burden, like infirm grannies pensioners lapsing into senility; but, as it belatedly became clear, he could it only in that gradually formed "self" which he was conscious of and which quite did without his past self, intractable and emotionally irrational, because this present self of his had showed itself to him now in all its thin-skinned unsteady borrowing of his learned fundamental solidity, based, like everyone's else, on shaky piers of saving self-restraint which were already not once menacingly swayed by the tides of the lawless abyss, while in the strange obsession at the cemetery, this self got suspended in mid-air over the emptiness of the predetermined and inevitable chasm, whither, without saying goodbye to him, after his father his mother had gone forever, whose dumb corpse was hidden today in the clay and whose sudden death, having cut off their lifelong blood connection, transformed his recent insensitivity into a gaping wound of the excruciating pain that could be alleviated by nothing but motherhood, no longer existing for him.
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