The Yellow Arrow

“You’re not Andrei, are you?” the woman suddenly asked. “Yes. Why?” “There was a letter lying around here addressed to Andrei, but it didn’t say which Andrei. Maybe it’s for you.” “It is,” said Andrei. “Can you give me it?” “It was somewhere around here,” the woman mumbled, rummaging through the heap of clothes on the table. “It’ll take months to sort all this out. Life’s awful nowadays. Always a crush in the corridor—it’s too much to cope with. Found it. There it is. Are you sure it’s for you? Have you got your ticket with you?” “Haven’t got one,” Andrei joked familiarly. The woman giggled, and held out the envelope. “Save your dirty jokes for the young girls,” she said skittishly.

Comments

POPULAR POSTS

Edinburgh: St. Cuthbert's: Thomas De Quincey's Grave

Tarkovsky's Death and the Film "Stalker"

Hermann Hesse & Psychoanalysis

Ewelina Hanska (1805 - 1882)