TATYANATOLSTOYA
81
"The same for you," thought Serafim. "Stamp out everyone." Try–
ing not to make any noise with his wings, he quickly moved toward the
building.
He slept badly that night. His jaw bones ached. He awoke at dawn,
and felt his alarmingly changed palate with his tongue. Something was
wrong. He yawned - and had difficulty opening his mouth. Everything
had somehow become different. Something's in the way.
It
had gotten
colder. He wiped his face with his hand and looked - blood: he'd cut
his palm on the end of his nose. The mirror! From the white morning
murk, from the oval frame someone was looking out at Serafim: a red,
horny beak; a low forehead covered with blue-grey scales; from the
mouth, the edges of a narrow slit, two large, long milk-white fangs.
Serafim looked coldly into the frame. He ran the split tongue along the
fangs. They're strong. He looked at the clock: "Off to the dentist. The
private doctor. There's time before the flight."
Tap tap tap went his claws on the asphalt. Faster - tap, tap tap tap
tap ...
"The monster Serpent Gorynych!" shouted some boys. "Look there's
Serpent Gorynych!"
Serafim tucked his coat tight around him, grabbed his wide black
wings, and took off at a run - the bus had already rounded the corner.
