A Chance at the Past

He had forgotten her. Forgotten. He took her out of his heart. Out of his memory. Left it in the past. Erased and put an end to it. But all it took was to look once—and it swept over him. He completely lost the ability to think. Not a single thought. Neither sensible nor foolish. Nothing at all!

— She has a ring on her finger, — he rasped, whispering as if he couldn’t speak any louder. His voice sounded чужим, broken. And it seemed that he himself—Elisei Fedorovich—was broken too.

— With whom? With Alisa Timurovna? — Borisovi couldn’t figure it out right away.

— Lenya, don’t be stupid! — suddenly Yazarov shouted. — It’s her, do you understand? Her!

— Who? Alisa Timurovna? — Leonid asked, confused. — Alisa? Is that your Lysa?

— Not mine. Long ago not mine, — Yazarov whispered, exhausted.