The Man Who Lost His Face

«In a spacious garden, right in the very center of a young eucalyptus grove, there stood a Chinese pavilion. At exactly nine in the morning, a young man approached it—wearing a white flannel suit and a Panama hat.

His appearance involuntarily held the gaze. His hands and legs were unusually short, his head—far too large, his ears—big and sticking out, and above all, his nose caught the eye immediately: at the bridge it seemed to sink in, toward the tip it noticeably widened and was slightly upturned, as if “like a little shoe.” He moved abruptly and swiftly—impulsively, angularly, with unexpected gestures. He could hardly be called handsome. And yet there was nothing unpleasant about his looks. On the contrary: there was something oddly appealing about him—because of his extraordinarily comical movements and expressive facial expressions, and his ugliness inspired more pity than disgust…»