I’ve been reading this a lot recently, for my own pleasure of course, and I can’t help but picture a dark clear night in the deserted streets of Moscow. A homeless Ivan leans back emptying the contents of a clear glass bottle into his bottomless stomach. He trips over a curb and falls, landing on his back. His head cracks against something sharp and solid. Tasting metal in his mouth, he feels something warm start to trickle down his back. Unable to move he stares into the dark sky. He can only see the brightest of stars, the rest, like so many potential futures left unrealized, are hidden by light pollution. In the distance he can hear a train’s lonely call, the walls of the sleeping city echo back their ghostly replies. While nearby, giant smokestacks exhale their black life into this last night of nights. Completely alone, his voice barely above a whisper he says
Goodnight nobody Goodnight old lady whispering hush Goodnight stars Goodnight air Goodnight noises everywhere