Чума
Part I
Theycameupfrombasementsandcubby-holes,cellarsanddrains,inlongswayinglines;theystaggeredinthelight,collapsedanddied,rightnexttopeople.Atnight,incorridorsandside-streets,onecouldclearlyhearthetinysqueaksastheyexpired.Inthemorning,ontheoutskirtsoftown,youwouldfindthemstretchedoutinthegutterwithalittlefloretofbloodontheirpointedmuzzles,someblownupandrotting,othersstiff,withtheirwhiskersstillstandingup.Inthetownitselfyoufoundtheminsmallheaps,onlandingsorinthecourtyardsofhouses.Theyalsocametodie,onebyone,incounciloffices,inschoolyards,sometimesontheterracesofcafes.Ourfellow-citizenswereamazedtocomeacrosstheminthebusiestpartsoftown.Theparade-ground,theboulevardsandthesea-frontpromenadewerecontaminatedbythematintervals.Clearedofitsdeadanimalsatdawn,thetowngotthembackthroughthedayinincreasingnumbers.Morethanonepersonwalkingatnightalongthepavementwouldexperiencethefeelingoftheelasticbulkofastillfreshcorpseunderhisfeet.Itwasasthoughtheverysoilonwhichourhouseswerebuiltwaspurgingitselfofanexcessofbile,thatitwaslettingboilsandabscessesrisetothesurface,whichuptothenhadbeendevouringitinside.
