Fyodor Dostoevsky (The Path to Freedom)

Fyodor sat by the river, washing his face of someone else's blood. It didn't save his bloody shirt, though. It was six o'clock on an April morning, and it was chilly, especially for Fyodor, who was wearing a light white shirt, light black trousers, and summer shoes. A wooden cross, also slightly stained with blood, hung from a cord around his neck. His black hair was infuriatingly falling into his eyes, and there was blood on the ends of his hair.