It appears that some part of Slothrop ran into the AWOL Džabajev one night in the heart of downtown Niederschaumdorf. (Some believe that fragments of Slothrop have grown into consistent personae of their own. If so, there's no telling which of the Zone's present-day population are offshoots of his original scattering. There's supposed to be a last photograph of him on the only record album ever put out by The Fool, an English rock group—seven musicians posed, in the arrogant style of the early Stones, near an old rocket-bomb site, out in the East End, or South of the River. It is spring, and French thyme blossoms in amazing white lacework across the cape of green that now hides and softens the true shape of the old rubble. There is no way to tell which of the faces is Slothrop's: the only printed credit that might apply to him is "Harmonica, kazoo—a friend." But knowing his Tarot, we would expect to look among the Humility, among the gray and preterite souls, to look for him adrift in the hostile light of the sky, the darkness of the sea. . . .)

Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

- Mas um homem não deixa de ser homem, quando morre?Não deixa de ser homem quando morre, não senhor; lembras-te do nosso avô?, o nosso avô era um cão velho entre flores, e morreu assim, como um cão velho a apreciar as flores, e a gente agora lembra-se dele porque era um velho sem deixar de ser homem, sem deixar de apreciar as coisas que fazem a vida de um homem, a valentia, isso era como as flores para os cães velhos, os cães velhos dos campos, quando pressentem que estão à morte, procuram as terras onde há flores para morrerem mais à vontade, a valentia é isso e um homem deixa de ser homem quando perde essa valentia, valente é o homem que está cheio de medo daquilo que lhe vai acontecer, mas avança, é como o cão a avançar para as flores, ele sabe que vai morrer mas procura o sítio ideal para morrer; quando um homem está para morrer as pessoas devem respeitar isso. O cão quando vai a caminho das flores, deixa um rasto pela terra porque vai de patas abatidas, o homem também o deixa, como o avô; ora não é verdade que estamos pràqui a falar dele e já faz uma porção de tempo que ele foi enterrado?

Nem érted, mi történik, még soha nem éltél át hasonlót, mégis pontosan tudod, hogy ezt nevezik halálverítéknek. Jéghideg van önnön forróságod felszínén. Miközben látod, hogy körülötted semmi nem változott meg, s így azért azt is fölfogod, hogy a saját észleléseid és a mások észlelései között nagyobb a különbség, mint amennyi megszokott és elvárható. Olyan szenzációban van részem, ami engem érint, a többieket nem. Már kora reggel igen távol voltam tőlük, s ezek szerint most még távolabb. Nem veri ki őket olyan forróság, aminek jéghideg páncél a felszíne. Igazán nem gondoltam volna, hogy ilyen közel állnék vadidegen emberekhez, most azonban a halálfélelemtől kikerekedett szemekkel fogtam fel, hogy egymáshoz kölcsönösen igazodva, minden pillanatban másokon mérjük be a magunk helyzetét, és magunkon ellenőrizzük a másikét.

One had heard and read a great deal about death, and even seen a little of it, and knew by heart the thousand commonplaces of religion and poetry which seemed to deaden one's senses and veil the horror. Society being immortal, could put on immortality at will. Adams being mortal, felt only the mortality. Death took features altogether new to him, in these rich and sensuous surroundings. Nature enjoyed it, played with it, the horror added to her charm, she liked the torture, and smothered her victim with caresses. Never had one seen her so winning. The hot Italian summer brooded outside, over the market-place and the picturesque peasants, and, in the singular color of the Tuscan atmosphere, the hills and vineyards of the Apennines seemed bursting with mid-summer blood. The sick-room itself glowed with the Italian joy of life; friends filled it; no harsh northern lights pierced the soft shadows; even the dying women shared the sense of the Italian summer, the soft, velvet air, the humor, the courage, the sensual fulness of Nature and man. She faced death, as women mostly do, bravely and even gaily, racked slowly to unconsciousness, but yielding only to violence, as a soldier sabred in battle. For many thousands of years, on these hills and plains, Nature had gone on sabring men and women with the same air of sensual pleasure.

Nem csak hazai terepen futottam, hanem sokfelé. A levegő áramlásával együtt fogadtam be idegen városokat és tájakat. Ha nem a lábával, hanem a fejével fut az ember, miként Lovelock, akkor a kívánatos izommunka jellegét és mértékét a légzés ritmusával állítja be. Az egyenletes légzés köti meg a látványt a futó emlékezetében. S ha figyelme arányosan oszlik meg a horizont és a testéhez mért háromlépésnyi távolság között, akkor egy idő után a testi valójával sem kell törődnie. A látvány erősebb a testi érzeténél. Növényvédő szerektől bűzlő, homokszürkére pusztított spárgaföldeken futottam át Hollandiába. Harmattól tocsogó, vad mezei ösvényeken futottam át Franciaországba. Elemi élvezetet okozott büntetlenül átfutni az államhatárokon. Csupán a párázó testemmel, csupasz lélegzetemmel tudtam volna magam igazolni. Igen, ez bizony én vagyok.

Nem csak hazai terepen futottam, hanem sokfelé. A levegő áramlásával együtt fogadtam be idegen városokat és tájakat. Ha nem a lábával, hanem a fejével fut az ember, miként Lovelock, akkor a kívánatos izommunka jellegét és mértékét a légzés ritmusával állítja be. Az egyenletes légzés köti meg a látványt a futó emlékezetében. S ha figyelme arányosan oszlik meg a horizont és a testéhez mért háromlépésnyi távolság között, akkor egy idő után a testi valójával sem kell törődnie. A látvány erősebb a testi érzeténél. Növényvédő szerektől bűzlő, homokszürkére pusztított spárgaföldeken futottam át Hollandiába. Harmattól tocsogó, vad mezei ösvényeken futottam át Franciaországba. Elemi élvezetet okozott büntetlenül átfutni az államhatárokon. Csupán a párázó testemmel, csupasz lélegzetemmel tudtam volna magam igazolni. Igen, ez bizony én vagyok.

I felt a numb shock as I drove home anxious to get my chocolate flowers and wondering how my mother arranged to get them delivered to me at the exact time of her passing as promised. I arrived home to a note on my door to go to the neighbor on the right. I knocked at the door and the grouchy older man answered. Without saying a word, he went to his refrigerator, opened it and said, "I think these are for you."He handed me the large bouquet of fruits all cut out like flowers and dipped in chocolate."It looks like chocolate flowers." he said with a grin, adding "I had a few, and they were great!" I held my delivery. I opened the small envelope and read the card: Dear Jori, We appreciate you showing us homes and although it has been months, we thought of you and wanted to do something nice for you today. I hope you remember us. The Johnsons This was a previous client who was a pastor. He never knew I had a mother who had cancer nor did I ever mention the conversation about the chocolate flowers. It had been several months since I had heard from this couple who were considering purchasing a home. I called the client, whom I haven't spoken to in such a long time. I was confused and wanted to know what made them decide to send me chocolate flowers, and why that day, of all days? He said it was his wife's idea to do something nice for someone and they agreed it on it being me. Mrs. Johnson thought of the chocolate flowers.

Az oxigén nélkül hagyott szívizomzat nagy frekvenciával reszket, ütések híján vért nem továbbít, beáll a kamrafibrillatio. A sinuscsomó, mely individuális ritmust adott, mindenkinek a személyes ritmusát, nagy zavarodottságában leáll a maga ütemével, s akkor legalábbis átmenetileg nincs szívműködés. Mindennapi tudatát elveszíti az ember, bár az orvosokkal ellentétben nem mondanám, hogy elveszíti az eszméletét. Jobban észnél voltam, mint bármikor.És akkor valami nagyon érdekes kezdődik, valami fantasztikus történik, tulajdonképpen erről kéne beszélni.121 122Olyasmi folytatódik, amit igen nehéz szavakkal megragadni, mert a halál előtti állapotban csaknem érvényét veszíti az egyezményes időszámítás. Egy nagy villanykapcsolót lekattintanak, magát a főkapcsolót. Amitől a látás, az észlelés és a gondolkodás közel sem szűnik meg. E párhuzamosan működő funkciók a frissen szerzett észleléseiket azonban nem a tudat egyezményes időrendjére fűzik fel.

- Отново съм хванат на тясно. Каквото и да правя, някой все ще умре. А ако не науча езика ви, цяло едно село ще загине. Не правя ли каквото искате от мен, все някой невинен умира. Не виждам изход.- Изходът е лесен, Анджин-сан. Умрете. Не сте длъжен да понасяте непоносимото.

Σίμωσε στο πιάνο και πήρε μερικά ακόρντα. Κείνη τη στιγμή΄έσπασε με κρότο μια χορδή κι έσβησε σ' ένα μακρόσυρτο και τρεμάμενο ήχο... -Ακούς Νιέτοτσκα, ακούς; ρώτησε, ξαφνικά με μια εμπνευσμένη φωνή, δείχνοντας το πιάνο. Τεντώσανε πολύ, πάρα πολύ τούτη τη χορδή· δεν μπόρεσε άλλο να βαστάξει και πέθανε. Ακούς, τι λυπητερά που πεθαίνουν οι ήχοι!

I imagined my coffin being closed, and the screws being turned. I was immobile, but I was alive, and I wanted to tell my family that I was seeing everything. I wanted to tell them all that I loved them, but not a sound came out of my mouth. My father and mother were weeping, my wife and my friends were gathered around, but I was completely alone! With all of the people dear to me standing there, no one was able to see that I was alive and that I had not yet accomplished all that I wanted to do in this world. I tried desperately to open my eyes, to give a sign, to beat on the lid of the coffin. But I could not move any part of my body. I felt the coffin being carried toward the grave. I could hear the sound of the handles grinding against their fittings, the steps of those in the procession, and conversations from this side and that. Someone said that he had a date for dinner later on, and another observed that I had died early. The smell of flowers all around me began to suffocate me. I remembered how I had given up trying to establish a relationship with two or three women, fearing their rejection. I remembered also the number of times I had failed to do what I wanted to do, thinking I could always do it later. I felt very sorry for myself, not only because I was about to be buried alive but also because I had been afraid to live. Why be fearful of saying no to someone or of leaving something undone when the most important thing of all was to enjoy life fully? There I was, trapped in a coffin, and it was already too late to go back and show the courage I should have had. There I was, having played the role of my own Judas, having betrayed myself. There I was, powerless to move a muscle, screaming for help, while the others were involved in their lives, worrying about what they were going to do that night, admiring statues and buildings that I would never see again. I began to feel how unfair it was to have to be buried while others continued to live. I would have felt better if there had been a catastrophe and all of us had been in the same boat, heading for the same abyss toward which they were carrying me now. Help! I tried to cry out. I’m still alive. I haven’t died. My mind is still functioning! They placed my coffin at the edge of the grave. They are going to bury me! My wife is going to forget all about me; she will marry someone else and spend the money we have struggled to save for all these years! But who cares about that. I want to be with her now, because I’m alive! I hear sobs, and I feel tears falling from my eyes, too. If my friends were to open my coffin now, they would see my tears and save me. But instead all I feel is the lowering of the coffin into the ground. Suddenly, everything is dark. A moment ago, there was a ray of light at the edge of the coffin, but now the darkness is complete. The grave diggers’ shovels are filling in the grave, and I’m alive! Buried alive! I sense that the air is being cut off, and the fragrance of the flowers is awful. I hear the mourners’ departing footsteps. My terror is total. I’m not able to do anything; if they go away now, it will soon be night, and no one will hear me knocking on the lid of my coffin! The footsteps fade, nobody hears my screams, and I am alone in the darkness; the air is heavy, and the smell of the flowers is driving me crazy. Suddenly, I hear a sound. It’s the worms, coming to eat me alive. I try with all my strength to move the parts of my body, but I am inert. The worms begin to climb over my body. They are sticky and cold. They creep over my face and crawl into my shorts. One of them enters through my anus, and another begins to sneak into a nostril. Help! I’m being eaten alive, and nobody can hear me; nobody says a word to me. The worm that entered my nostril has reached my throat. I feel another invading my ear. I have to get out! Where is God; why doesn’t he help me? They are beginning to eat at my throat, and soon I won’t be able to scream! They