Conversations along a Country Road

Abstract

The turtle that lived under the desk was a vegetarian, and Aleksei Nikolaevich made sure that it got some meadow clover for dinner. I regularly invited myself to go along on this serious expedition, most likely in the role of a local version of Dersu Uzala. He would appear at my window toward evening, an inspired head on a thin neck, and a shawl hanging in billowing folds from his shoulders—so that you would doubt that any flesh and blood existed under it—and white rubber shoes on his feet.