Darkness Page #2

"Darkness" is a short story by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, exploring themes of despair, existential reflection, and the human condition. Set against a backdrop of a dismal night, the narrative revolves around a character grappling with a profound sense of isolation and hopelessness. Through Chekhov's nuanced prose and keen observations, the story delves into the complexities of human emotions, the search for meaning in life's bleak moments, and the interplay between light and darkness, both literally and metaphorically. As it unfolds, "Darkness" invites readers to contemplate the shadows that linger in their own lives and the nature of solace in an uncaring world.

								

to do with you peasants even the police captain has no authority against
him."

"It's a long way to go, old man. . . . I dare say it's twelve miles and
may be more."

"One who needs something will go seventy."

"That is so. . . . Should I send in a petition to him, or what?"

"You will find out there. If you should have a petition the clerk will
write you one quick enough. The permanent member has a clerk."

After parting from the old man Kirila stood still in the middle of the
square, thought a little, and walked back out of the town. He made up
his mind to go to Zolotovo.

Five days later, as the doctor was on his way home after seeing his
patients, he caught sight of Kirila again in his yard. This time the
young peasant was not alone, but with a gaunt, very pale old man who
nodded his head without ceasing, like a pendulum, and mumbled with his
lips.

"Your honour, I have come again to ask your gracious mercy," began
Kirila. "Here I have come with my father. Be merciful, let Vaska go! The
permanent member would not talk to me. He said: 'Go away!'"

"Your honour," the old man hissed in his throat, raising his twitching
eyebrows, "be merciful! We are poor people, we cannot repay your honour,
but if you graciously please, Kiryushka or Vaska can repay you in work.
Let them work."

"We will pay with work," said Kirila, and he raised his hand above his
head as though he would take an oath. "Let him go! They are starving,
they are crying day and night, your honour!"

The young peasant bent a rapid glance on his father, pulled him by the
sleeve, and both of them, as at the word of command, fell at the
doctor's feet. The latter waved his hand in despair, and, without
looking round, walked quickly in at his door.
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