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After that came a flock of relatives and a phlegmatic priest.
The greatest friends swayed, catching the wind, and sang a
quiet song to Francis and John. The greatest friends
attracted birds and, stroking their wings, wished them a
new and different life. The shroud of branches did not
make a photographic impression on the sand that filled the
hole and became a patch in the brighter land. And the fat
cupolas of churches with their crosses said farewell: be safe
and sound!
One couldn’t complain of silence at the funeral banquet.
Sensible
pans
and
panni. Pan
Jurski, who repeated the same
words over and over all evening, turning to the brothers:
“Don’t be upset, eventually we’ll all be part of such wood
furniture and will be looking good . . . Francis, head up and
smile!”
Panni
Maskovska smelt of sprats and garlic. When she
kissed the brothers, she usually slimed their cheeks,
arousing disgust in the boys. The greatest relic – a ring of
brilliants – father had left to his youthful love
panni
Gzhibovska, now a fat withered beauty, her clothes smelt of
naphthalene.
Later Francis and John went out looking for friends. The
boys didn’t sense yet that the friends had waved goodbye,
that they were still wafted by the wind, which dashed
papers into gutters. Shops, advertising, houses of stone,