TE15 Lithuanian Honey Cake

Jaroslavas Melnikas

me weakened, their faith in my honesty and closeness to them. I could see them overtaken by a strange feeling: that I was a stranger to them. And the pit in their hearts deepened. And then, at last (and this was the most painful thing), they would understand everything. In the depths of their hearts they would condemn me. Finally, I could lean upon that condemnation; I couldn’t do it any other way. Because for them I could tolerate even that existence in the barracks, but for myself – only in the grand piano room. If it had been there, I wouldn’t have left, I would have stayed – with them. I wanted to be close to them, but only if I was myself. Only then. Perhaps they were crying, back there in that stinking bearpit. I had left them in their misfortune. I didn’t want to die there with them. I knew that I was wrong; I don’t renounce my responsibility, because the freedom I had gained made it worth carrying that superhuman burden. (10) The road descended and descended until I saw a town. It looked similar to the one I had lived in before and which I had left. Nothing surprised me. My feet took me along the familiar streets. Still not entirely sure if it was a dream or reality, I walked through a familiar doorway. When I saw the many doors, it didn’t raise a joyful storm inside me as I had expected it would. But the tension that had dogged me for decades (or so


Made with FlippingBook Online newsletter