February 10
A bombardment in the morning kept the family in the Underground till 11 am.
Meanwhile, I went to the Club twice to find both times its door locked.
The day was calm.
They say there were two missiles that failed to explode. Stancil marks on the defective ammunition run as "Made in the USSR" with manufacture date from the end of the previous month. End of month production in the USSR always was a downright waste, but what a wondrous swiftness in the missiles shipment!
According to rumors circulating in the Underground, the town is flooded with spies. They say there is a list of at least sixty traitors signaling for the enemy's artillery.
Two pages from Joyce translated.
At three pm, Sahtik came home from the Underground. We also locked the door.
For a few days the Soviet Army helicopters touch down once a day among the barracks of the local garrison to evacuate some mysterious boxes. Their arrival is a clear-cut indication that there would be no shelling for at least half an hour.
Without lingering too long at foreplay, we went over to the essentials. She, as usual, was supremely perfect; I just did my level best but only functionally, lacking the all-effacing eagerness.
(...to get enraptured by the Game in earnest, one should be innocent enough—not spoiled by reading of the BHAGAVBAT-GITA and suchlike stuff... Or else, you simply should be young enough...)
Nevertheless, I duly performed my part in the action.
Yoga as scheduled. Supper.
Now, all have gone over to the Underground. Only the dough—brimming up the basin—and I stay here.
It's half-past-eight pm. I am going out for the water-walk.
Distant noise of the battle at Malu-Balu, an Azeri village in the eastern suburb hills, mingled up with the close bangs of shells exploding in the town every other minute.
"So long" in combination with "Good night".
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