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Steinberg, Jehudah

"The Story of an Old Man"

I had learned well enough that no
devil will ever trouble a man as much as one human being can trouble
another. And yet, when I remembered the swish of the rods over the
naked flesh, the spurting blood, the loose flaps of skin, and the
futile outcries, I was paralyzed with fear. No, it was not really
fear: it was a sort of submissive adoration. Had a birch-rod been
lying near me, I should have kissed it with fear and respect. It is
hard for me to explain to you. You youngsters are not capable of
understanding.
And as I was sitting there, full of gloomy thoughts, I did not
notice that the sun had set, and night had come. It got so dark
that I could not see my dog lying at my feet. Suddenly I felt
something touch me and pass lightly over my hair. I thought it was
an ant or a night moth, and I raised my hand to chase it away. Then
it changed its place, and I felt it at the nape of my neck. I tried
to catch the thing that was making my neck itch, and caught a hand,
soft and warm. I shuddered and started back: before me was Marusya,
bending over me. I wanted to get up, but she put her hands on me
heavily, sat down at my side, all the while pressing my hand between
hers.


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