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Yuri Vynnychuk
“No, no, treatments are
useless... the illness is
incurable,
understand?
There’s no point.”
“So where are you going? Do
you have a new job?”
“No. I just want to live out the
rest of the days left for me to
my own satisfaction. Do you
understand what I’m talking
about?”
“Of course. That’s very
sensible. And really, why work
like amule... but you can leave
your work service record with
us... so your term of service
remains uninterrupted... oh,
what kind of work service
is there now!... but all the
same, so you don’t have any
problems... because if you
end up at the police station,
and they take an interest in
your place of work... they’ll
tack on vagrancy... it’s safer
this way....”
“Of course. Thank you very
much for your concern.”
“You’re
welcome.
And
remember that our entire
staff always took pride in you.
And the children loved you. It
will be hard for them without
you.”
After that he called a taxi and
ended up on the other end of
Lviv in Mayorivka.
The day before he found
himself accommodations at
a reasonable price with a
retired couple. The room was
kind of small, and he couldn’t
even lay out all his books, but
on the other hand no one
bothered him. In the morning
he would set off to the
research library and worked
there until five, then would
return home, on the way
back, buying a few buns filled
with liver for four kopecks
apiece, then he would fry the
pies on a frying pan and eat
them with his tea. He used
to manage with little things.
But on the other hand he
now could completely devote