The Falling Translated by Aleksandra Khmelnik

Two men fell from the roof of a five-story building, a new construction. A school, it seems. They lost their grip while seated and slipped down the roof until they reached the edge and began to fall.

Ida Markovna noticed their falling before anyone else. She was standing by her window in the building opposite, blowing her nose into an empty glass. Suddenly, she saw someone begin to fall from the opposite roof. Ida Markovna looked closer and saw that not just one person, but two people had begun to fall at the same time. Completely befuddled, Ida Markovna tore off her shirt and using that same shirt began quickly to wipe clean the misted-over windowpane to better see who it was that was falling. But realizing that, probably, whoever was falling could see her naked and might think heaven-knows-what of her, Ida Markovna jumped back from the window and ducked behind a wicker side table on which stood a potted plant.

At this time another person saw the men falling from the roof. This other person lived in the same building as Ida Markovna, but two stories below. This other person was also named Ida Markovna. She happened at the time to be sitting with her feet on the windowsill sewing a button to her shoe. Having looked up at the window she saw the men falling from the roof. Ida Markovna squealed, jumped up from the windowsill, and began hurriedly to open the window so she could watch the men who were falling from the roof hit the ground. But the window did not open. Ida Markovna remembered that she’d nailed the window shut and ran to the oven, where she kept her tools: four hammers, a chisel, and pliers.

Having grabbed the pliers, Ida Markovna hurried back to the window and pulled out the nail.

This time the window opened easily. Ida Markovna leaned out and watched the men falling from the roof whistle past her toward the ground.

A small crowd had by now gathered on the street. Whistles were being distributed and a short policeman strolled unhurriedly toward the site of the upcoming incident.

A large-nosed street cleaner rushed about, pushing people out of the way and explaining that the falling men might very well land on the heads of the gathered spectators.

By this time, both Ida Markovnas—one wearing a dress, the other naked, and both leaning out of their windows—were squealing and kicking their legs.

And now finally, stretching their arms out wide, eyes bulging, the men falling from the roof hit the ground.

So we, too, sometimes, falling from the heights we’ve reached, smash against the dismal limits of our future.