A Merry Wake

“Our plane was flying toward home—toward Tarasov. A few days I spent in a distant military unit, where I was performing my duties as a legal counsel for the Committee of Soldiers’ Mothers—the way I’ve been for some time now, at least officially.

On my soul there was an unpleasant aftertaste; however, I’d gotten used to its bitter flavor over the months of working in this organization.

The case was typical. A blond Tarasov boy, thrown by fate into this ‘distant backwater’ military district, ended up in the disgusting system of ‘informal relations,’ thanks to which he nearly took his own life.

His senior comrades saw him no differently than as a scapegoat and took out all their miserable, pimpled lout complexes on him.

Because of my efforts, the boy was transferred to another district, and his former commander would finally have to part with his uniform and continue abusing alcoholic drinks—no longer detached from his production duties. For that, I did everything necessary.

But I allowed myself something for the sake of my soul. During our last meeting with the chief tormentor of my ‘client,’ I couldn’t resist and gave him another problem—at least for two weeks—precisely in the area he was especially proud of.

In other words, taking leave, alone with him, I processed his genitals so thoroughly with a model shoe that he saw off with a long, earthly bow.”