Pavlo Tychyna

You were accommodated in the "Word" hut immediately after his wake, as a writer and an artist. It's more than a pleasant place. Constant cries, songs, and sometimes beats, but most of all you loved reading evenings, where you could both read your own work and listen to others.

Alec was no longer there.
1933 r_k. Still the same little booth “Slovo”, on the same street, the same walls, ale...now there is a dead silence here. No...nothing has happened to this game for some time, no you have never been to the booth where the intelligentsia of the region lingers, it is more like a ritual booth.

All your friends were arrested a long time ago and you didn’t know that you were still alive and that you wouldn’t be attacked...

Immediately you enter the quiet room, not a sound is heard, but you notice that there is another person sitting there... Pavel Grigorovich Tichina...

You already published in the Kharkov newspapers his remaining verse “Party of Veda” and, frankly speaking, you hated him.
Pavlusik, where are your “Sonyachy clarinets?” - flashed through my head...