Голод
Part III
IgoverycoollydownVognmansgaden,withoutfearofbeingconsciousofdoinganywrong.Kierulf,thisdealerinwool,whohasspookedinmybrainsolong—thiscreatureinwhoseexistenceIbelieve,andwhomitwasofvitalimportancethatIshouldmeet—hadvanishedfrommymemory;waswipedoutwithmanyothermadwhimswhichcameandwentinturns.Irecalledhimnolonger,exceptasareminiscence—aphantom.
Inmeasure,asIwalkedon,Ibecomemoreandmoresober;feltlanguidandweary,anddraggedmylegsafterme.Thesnowstillfellingreatmoistflakes.AtlastIreachedGronland;farout,nearthechurch,Isatdowntorestonaseat.Allthepassers-bylookedatmewithmuchastonishment.Ifella-thinking.
ThougoodGod,whatamiserableplightIhavecometo!IwassoheartilytiredandwearyofallmymiserablelifethatIdidnotfinditworththetroubleoffightinganylongertopreserveit.Adversityhadgainedtheupperhand;ithadbeentoostrongforme.Ihadbecomesostrangelypoverty-strickenandbroken,amereshadowofwhatIoncehadbeen;myshouldersweresunkenrightdownononeside,andIhadcontractedahabitofstoopingforwardfearfullyasIwalked,inordertosparemychestwhatlittleIcould.Ihadexaminedmybodyafewdaysago,onenoonupinmyroom,andIhadstoodandcriedoveritthewholetime.Ihadwornthesameshirtformanyweeks,anditwasquitestiffwithstalesweat,andhadchafedmyskin.
