Zinovy Vayman

Haibun for Vadim

How did I meet him? I do not remember.

His wife is a red haired slip of a girl. She has a talent for landing high paying hi-tech jobs and holding them for 3 or 4 months. Vadim holds a steady job at the enterprise not far from my workplace and makes tons of money.

I invite him for strawberry picking at the nearby farm.

deep red flesh
on a whitish and thin neck—
the sweetest strawberry

Vadim talks about the major cataclysm coming really soon. I disagree with him vehemently. Finally he says, “In ten years it will be a total disaster and overwhelming misery. Everything will collapse. I do not want to be alive then and you will envy me if you will be still around.”

When Vadim and his wife buy a house in the most expensive town of Massachusetts, hire all kinds of tutors for their angelic small daughter, I feel less and less compelled to call them. I am beset with my own family problems. And I am pushing forward a bold new solar cell technology in spite of my boss’ rejection.

One summer night we get a phone call, “Vadim hung himself.” His wife repeats again and again, “In the morning he asked as usual where his rope is and I answered as usual that it is in the anteroom’s corner.”

Several days later I return his library book on euthanasia before its due date of July 10, 1988.

closing eyes
for a split second
eternal nothingness