Sergei, Mrs Dalloway, Fernanda discussed on This American Life
Were both off the table on the floor reeking of cigarette butts and spilt vodka. The knife was quick insuring my hands and his chest. Soft and flabby nothing. Like our presidents receive my favorite blows. There was blood everywhere. How's that for an ending? I shouted. Ramos showy. Dear diary. It has been a week since I've been airlifted here. My care is good and the doctors, and nurses are nice one nurse. Fernanda smiles at me in a special way as she brings me my lunch of chicken Assad. Must learn Spanish. I do not know why Sergei stabbed me. I thought he was my friend that was certainly his only friend. He was drunken lout lazy constantly muttering about politics and some nonsense Putin literary site, they found his diary after they arrested him vodka. Does not really have a smell. But every page reeked of it every page was a testament to his drunken haze talk about fiction. Yes. Maybe I told him of a few of the endings. But it is only because I wanted to talk to him about other things not just about novels about my ailing mother in a little village near and the girl from the regional planning bureau who wants sort of smiled at me and. Look spoil the ending. So that we could move onto affairs of the heart and the soul. Play never dressed up like MRs dalloway. How do you think could afford a MRs dalloway costume on a Russian welder salary was merely? My snow Parker a computer generated recreation of Moby, Dick. Dancing with a deliver. What the hell? Fine. Maybe I did build a recreation of an eighteenth century Moscow railroad station. I mean, who wouldn't I wanted to bring the story to life for him? And I wanted him to be my friend because God knows nobody else would. All the other men on the base hated the very drunk inside of him. And there is no penguin hunting. Hunting penguins is illegal. Sergei disappeared into books to avoid life to avoid me to make a.