Twenty-Six Years Old - Klara

Klara 26

Only Klara stayed at home. Her head ached and the thin bones of her fat legs were hurting, which was unfortunate, as today was her birthday. ‘I’m twenty-six today,’ she thought, ‘and tomorrow Ganin is leaving. He is bad, he deceives women and he is capable of committing a crime. He can look me calmly in the eyes even though he knows I saw him just about to steal money. Yet he’s wonderful and I think about him literally all day. And there’s no hope whatsoever.’

She looked at herself in the mirror. He face was paler than usual; beneath a lock of chestnut hair low down on her forehead she had broken out in a rash, and there were shadows under her eyes. She could not stand the glossy black dress which she wore day in, day out; there was a very obvious darn on the seam of dark, transparent stocking; and one of her heels was crooked.

Vladimir Nabokov  ·  Mary (Mashenka) (Trans. Michael Glenny and Vladimir Nabokov)