Tanya's face went white. Her expression blent disappointment and rage.
'Besides, I wasn't expecting callers at this time. You seem very nice and I'm sure you're a good soul, but I really must get ready.'
Tanya looked at me for clarification. All I could do was return her look with one that said 'the mind is a funny thing.' I couldn't shake it, though. We shared another one of those moments.
Gradually, over time, the density of his crisis dawned on her. Again, she fell quiet, taking a seat beside me while we watched Jack 'get ready'.
Clearly, he was now Anna, the lady in the Chekhov story. Sure enough, face down on the night stand was a volume entitled 'The Lady With The Lap Dog And Other Stories'. We guessed it lay open to the eponymous tale. When precisely Gurov had become Anna was not clear- possibly sometime overnight, or possibly before breakfast.
Wondering what might be going on....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem