Голод

           Nottosayaword,nottomentionthecontents,butcrumpletogether,withperfectcalmness,alargepieceofmoney,andflingitstraightinthefaceofone’spersecutor!Onemightcallthatmakingone’sexitwithdignity.ThatwasthewaytotreatsuchbeastsI....

           WhenIgottothecornerofTomtegadenandtherailwayplace,thestreetcommencedsuddenlytoswimaroundbeforemyeyes;itbuzzedvacantlyinmyhead,andIstaggeredupagainstthewallofahouse.Icouldsimplygonofarther,couldn’tevenstraightenmyselffromthecrampedpositionIwasin.AsIfellupagainstit,soIremainedstanding,andIfeltthatIwasbeginningtolosemysenses.Myinsaneangerhadaugmentedthisattackofexhaustion.Iliftedmyfoot,andstampedonthepavement.Ialsotriedseveralotherthingstotryandregainmystrength:Iclenchedmyteeth,wrinkledmybrows,androlledmyeyesdespairingly;ithelpedalittle.Mythoughtsgrewmorelucid.ItwascleartomethatIwasabouttosuccumb.Istretchedoutmyhands,andpushedmyselfbackfromthewall.Thestreetstilldancedwildlyroundme.Ibegantohiccoughwithrage,andIwrestledfrommyveryinmostsoulwithmymisery;madearightgallanteffortnottosinkdown.Itwasnotmyintentiontocollapse;no,Iwoulddiestanding.Adrayrollsslowlyby,andInoticetherearepotatoesinit;butoutofsheerfuryandstubbornness,Itakeitintomyheadtoassertthattheyarenotpotatoes,butcabbages,andIsworefrightfuloathsthattheywerecabbages.