Trafika Europe 13 - Russian Ballet

The Last Magog

rattled around in my head. And I wanted to run off, to save myself, I wanted to escape. The fear, like Giovanni’s own fear, overcame me. Yes, I remember, that fear, the fear common to so many people in this city, seized me like a back whirlwind. I go up and began walking toward those whom I feared. I must have gotten up without having heard Giovanni out to the end, and he was mightily surprised. I went to them. I was moved to share with them my fear, to consult with them, to find out if they felt the same. I went to them. And they were already waiting for me. Their leader was Topchu, a man from the Hosun of Terpi. This was a jolly, sociable young man, who was never at a loss for words, and it was strange to see, how sometimes his lively face turned grave and sad, as though Topchu became preoccupied with thoughts of death, of the death of his dear ones. He was a sbegut from childhood, like his father, who had called himself Uydu and had given his son the name Topchu. Topchu had already lived in Ogon a long time —worked at harvesting fruit, building roads, in the port. The newly arrived where brought to him, and he helped them find work, assisted in their search for shelter, helped them with an open heart. He was a jolly and sociable young man, and he was easygoing. He was now waiting for me, and he immediately hailed me: “And here comes our wonderful Shepchu! It just so happens that we were waiting for you. Let’s go, there is


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