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Story of an Illness

Story of an Illness Co m p l i c a t i o n s VERY SHORT FICTION Story of an Illness To tell you the truth, I much prefer to be sick at home. At a hospital, no question, the light bulbs are stronger and things are more scientific in general. But at home, as they say, even straw tastes better. Judge for yourselves. My family brings me to the hospital with typhoid fever, in hopes of easing my suffering, and immediately my eyes fall on a poster: “Corpses for pick up between three and four.” I don’t know about other patients, but my knees frankly buckle. “Look, Comrade,” I address the orderly who’s writing me up, “why did you have to post such a vulgar poster? People here feel weakened as it is.” Boy, is he scandalized. “Just look at him, ready to croak, yet he too must criticize! First get better, dear Comrade, though that’s highly unlikely. Or else you’ll be picked up between three and four!” Here a nurse hops over to take me to the “hosing station.” “A hosing station? What am I, a horse? Can’t you call it something more poetical—a bath?” Now the nurse http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png The Baffler MIT Press

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Publisher
MIT Press
Copyright
© 2014 Mikhail Zoshchenko
Subject
Stories
ISSN
1059-9789
eISSN
2164-926X
DOI
10.1162/BFLR_a_00285
Publisher site
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

Co m p l i c a t i o n s VERY SHORT FICTION Story of an Illness To tell you the truth, I much prefer to be sick at home. At a hospital, no question, the light bulbs are stronger and things are more scientific in general. But at home, as they say, even straw tastes better. Judge for yourselves. My family brings me to the hospital with typhoid fever, in hopes of easing my suffering, and immediately my eyes fall on a poster: “Corpses for pick up between three and four.” I don’t know about other patients, but my knees frankly buckle. “Look, Comrade,” I address the orderly who’s writing me up, “why did you have to post such a vulgar poster? People here feel weakened as it is.” Boy, is he scandalized. “Just look at him, ready to croak, yet he too must criticize! First get better, dear Comrade, though that’s highly unlikely. Or else you’ll be picked up between three and four!” Here a nurse hops over to take me to the “hosing station.” “A hosing station? What am I, a horse? Can’t you call it something more poetical—a bath?” Now the nurse

Journal

The BafflerMIT Press

Published: Jul 1, 2014

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