The Son of Man

In a poor Great-Russian village lived an elderly priest—Father Ivan Bogoyavlensky—already sixty years old. No one could properly tell what his fate began with, what his childhood and youth were like: by the sheer weight of years, he had almost lost everything to memory, and his wife, children, relatives, and acquaintances simply didn’t know. That’s why it seemed as if his life had no beginning—and perhaps would have no end. His existence resembled a long corridor with many doors shut tight: ahead something would open, and behind—something would slam shut and sink forever into silence…