Dostoevsky

he sat silently on a collapsed old oak tree where he once sat with Gogol... His only friend who accepted him as he was... After his death, he became withdrawn, even very... he has no one and nothing. The village where he lived and grew up is abandoned, everyone in the church is dead... nowhere to go
nothing was reflected in his eyes, not even tears. Only darkness in his violet eyes. The wind was blowing his hair and the black coat with fur on his shoulders