fantamaxxer
kindness enjoyer
- Joined
- May 13, 2025
- Posts
- 1,289
- Reputation
- 1,373
the translation:
It was a vulture pecking at my feet. It had already torn through my boots and stockings;
now it was pecking at my feet themselves. Time and again it struck, then flew restlessly several times around me, only to resume its work.
A gentleman passed by, watched for a while, and then asked why I tolerated the vulture. "I am helpless," I said. "It came and began to peck; naturally, I tried to drive it away—I even attempted to strangle it—but such a creature possesses immense strength. It was about to spring at my face, so I chose instead to sacrifice my feet.
Now they are all but torn to shreds." "To let yourself be tormented like this!" said the gentleman. "One shot, and the vulture is finished." "Is that so?" I asked. "And would you be willing to do that?" "Gladly," said the gentleman. "I just need to go home and fetch my rifle. Can you wait another half hour?"
"I do not know," I said, and stood rigid with pain for a moment; then I added, "Please, try to do so in any case." "Very well," said the gentleman. "I shall hurry." Throughout our conversation, the vulture had listened calmly, letting its gaze wander back and forth between the gentleman and me.
Now I saw that it had understood everything; it took flight, leaning far back to gather momentum, and then—like a javelin thrower—drove its beak through my mouth, deep into my very core. As I fell backw ard, I felt a sense of liberation as I realized that the vulture was drowning—irretrievably lost—within my blood, which now filled every depth and overflowed every shore.
lowkey i feel it tbh
It was a vulture pecking at my feet. It had already torn through my boots and stockings;
now it was pecking at my feet themselves. Time and again it struck, then flew restlessly several times around me, only to resume its work.
A gentleman passed by, watched for a while, and then asked why I tolerated the vulture. "I am helpless," I said. "It came and began to peck; naturally, I tried to drive it away—I even attempted to strangle it—but such a creature possesses immense strength. It was about to spring at my face, so I chose instead to sacrifice my feet.
Now they are all but torn to shreds." "To let yourself be tormented like this!" said the gentleman. "One shot, and the vulture is finished." "Is that so?" I asked. "And would you be willing to do that?" "Gladly," said the gentleman. "I just need to go home and fetch my rifle. Can you wait another half hour?"
"I do not know," I said, and stood rigid with pain for a moment; then I added, "Please, try to do so in any case." "Very well," said the gentleman. "I shall hurry." Throughout our conversation, the vulture had listened calmly, letting its gaze wander back and forth between the gentleman and me.
Now I saw that it had understood everything; it took flight, leaning far back to gather momentum, and then—like a javelin thrower—drove its beak through my mouth, deep into my very core. As I fell backw ard, I felt a sense of liberation as I realized that the vulture was drowning—irretrievably lost—within my blood, which now filled every depth and overflowed every shore.
lowkey i feel it tbh
