Page:Evgenii Zamyatin - We (Zilboorg translation).pdf/177

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Record Thirty-One

The Great Operation
I Forgave Everything
The Collision of Trains

Saved! At the very last moment, when it seemed that there was nothing to hold on to, that it was the end! . . .

It was as if you already ascended the steps toward the threatening machine of the Well-Doer, or as if the great glass Bell with a heavy thud had already covered you, and for the last time in life you looked at the blue sky to devour it with your eyes . . . when suddenly, it was only a dream! The sun is pink and cheerful and the wall . . . What happiness to be able to touch the cold wall! And the pillow! To delight endlessly in the little cavity formed by your own head in the white pillow! . . . This is approximately what I felt, when I read the State Journal this morning. It has all been a terrible dream, and the dream is over. And I was so feeble, so unfaithful, that I thought of selfish, voluntary death! I am ashamed now to reread yesterday’s last lines. But let them remain as a memory of that incredible what-might-have-happened, which will not happen! On the front page of the State Journal the following gleamed:

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