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Gogol and I, embracing each other, jolly and happy, in our dear Ukraine near Poltava. We're eating cherries and talking. Maybe vareniki, too. We're talking. That's the dream I had – Gogol and I. Wearing white – maybe it wasn't Ukraine – maybe it was Italy, Rome. Branches everywhere. It was hot, you know…



* * * | Diary of a Loser | The compatriots