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A Beauty

A Beauty Philosophical Intelligence Office (VE RY) SHORT STORY A Beauty geous as a morning star. The moment office ladies glimpsed his shimmering locks at the door they fell on the floor in a deadly swoon. A bookkeeper once had to be hospitalized: she fainted still hugging her enormous electric typewriter, and it crushed two of her ribs. Any woman who stared at Peter Fedorovich for longer than five minutes abandoned her husband, her children, her work, took to drink for consolation, and a week later would be seen fishing through dumpsters for empty bottles. Peter Fedorovich was a kind-hearted man. All those ruined lives upset him terribly. He tried leaving the house as little as possible, but since no one was going to pay him for his pretty eyes alone, he had to go to the office. He tried to hide his face behind a scarf. That didn’t help. A gust of wind disturbed the scarf. A lock of hair came out—voilà , another unfortunate lady would wallow, heartbroken and drunk, in a cold puddle. Over time, Peter Fedorovich thought of a remedy. He stopped washing and combing his hair. He found an old, filthy jacket and wore 12 http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png The Baffler MIT Press

A Beauty

Gorchev, Dmitry
The Baffler – Mar 1, 2013
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Publisher
MIT Press
Copyright
© 2012 Dmitry Gorchev
ISSN
1059-9789
eISSN
2164-926X
DOI
10.1162/BFLR_a_00125
Publisher site
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

Philosophical Intelligence Office (VE RY) SHORT STORY A Beauty geous as a morning star. The moment office ladies glimpsed his shimmering locks at the door they fell on the floor in a deadly swoon. A bookkeeper once had to be hospitalized: she fainted still hugging her enormous electric typewriter, and it crushed two of her ribs. Any woman who stared at Peter Fedorovich for longer than five minutes abandoned her husband, her children, her work, took to drink for consolation, and a week later would be seen fishing through dumpsters for empty bottles. Peter Fedorovich was a kind-hearted man. All those ruined lives upset him terribly. He tried leaving the house as little as possible, but since no one was going to pay him for his pretty eyes alone, he had to go to the office. He tried to hide his face behind a scarf. That didn’t help. A gust of wind disturbed the scarf. A lock of hair came out—voilà , another unfortunate lady would wallow, heartbroken and drunk, in a cold puddle. Over time, Peter Fedorovich thought of a remedy. He stopped washing and combing his hair. He found an old, filthy jacket and wore 12

Journal

The Baffler – MIT Press

Published: Mar 1, 2013

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