Yellow
A Two-dimensional Shadow
An Incurable Soul
I have not written for several days； I don"t know how many. All my days are alike. All are of one color， yellow， like dry， overheated sand. Not a patch of shade， not a drop of water， only an infinity of yellow sand. I cannot live without her， but she， since she disappeared that day so mysteriously in the Ancient House...
Since that time I have seen her only once， during the hour for the Walk， two， three， four days ago， I do not remember exactly. All my days are alike. She only passed swiftly by and for a second idled up my yellow， empty world. With her， arm in arm， reaching not higher than her shoulder， were the double-curved S- and the thin papery doctor， and a fourth person whose fingers only I remember well； they streamed out， those fingers， from the sleeve of the unif like a bundle of rays， uncommonly thin， white， long. I-330 raised her hand and waved to me， then she bent toward the one with the raylike fingers， over the head of S-. I overheard the word Integral. All four turned around to look at me， and then they disappeared in the bluish-gray sea， and my road was once more dry and yellow.
That same evening she had a pink check on me. I stood before the switchboard and with hatred and tenderness I implored it to click and soon show the number I-330. I would rush out into the hall at every sound of the elevator. The door of the latter would open heavily. Pale， tall， blond， and dark they would come out of the elevator， and here and there curtains were falling....But she was not there. She did not come. And it is quite possible that now， at this minute， as I write these lines， at twenty-two o"clock exactly， with her eyes closed she is pressing her shoulder against somebody else in the same way， and in the same way she may be asking someone： "Do you love me？" Whom？ Who is he？ That one with raylike fingers， or that thick-lipped， sprinkling R-？ Or S-？ S-！ Why is it that I have heard his steps splashing behind me as though in a ditch all these days？ Why has he been following me all these days like a shadow？ Ahead of me， to my side， behind me， a grayish-blue， two-dimensional shadow； people cross it， people step on it， but it remains nearby， attached to me by unseen ties. Perhaps that tie is I-330. I do not know. Or perhaps they， the Guardians I mean， already know that I...
If someone should tell you your shadow sees you， sees you all the time， would you understand？ All at once peculiar sensations arise in you； your arms seem to belong to someone else； they are in the way. That is how I feel； very frequently now I notice how absurdly I wave my hands without any rhythm. I have an irresistible desire to glance behind me， but I am unable to do so； my neck might as well be forged of iron. I flee， I run faster and faster， and even with my back I feel that shadow following me as fast as I can run； and there is no place to hide myself—no place！
At length I reach my room. Alone at last！ But here I find another thing， the telephone. I pick up the receiver. "Yes， I-330， please." And again I hear a light noise through the receiver； someone"s step in the hall there， passing the door of her room， and—silence....I drop the receiver.I cannot， cannot bear it any longer， and I run to see her！
This happened yesterday. I ran there and for a whole hour from sixteen to seventeen I wandered near the house in which she lives. Numbers were passing by in rows. Thousands of feet were beating the time like a behemoth with a million legs passing by. I was alone， thrown out by a storm on an uninhabited island， and my eyes were seeking and seeking among the grayish-blue waves. "There， soon，" I thought， "will appear from somewhere the sharp mocking angles of the brows lifted to the temples， and the dark window eyes， and there behind them a flaming fireplace and someone"s shadow....And I will rush straight in behind those windows and say to her， "Thou"—yes， "thou" without fail. "Thou knowest I cannot live without thee any longer， then why...？" But silence reigned.
Suddenly I heard the silence； suddenly I heard the Musical Tower silenced， and I understood！ It was after seventeen already； everyone had already left. I was alone. It was too late to return home. Around me—a desert made of glass and bathed with yellow sunshine. I saw， as if in water， the reflection of the walls in the glass smoothness of the street， sparkling walls， hanging upside down. Myself also upside down， hanging absurdly in the glass.
"I must go at once， this very second， to the Medical Bureau， or else...Or perhaps this would be best： to remain here， to wait quietly until they see me and come and take me into the Operation Department and put an end to everything at once， redeem everything...." A slight rustle—and the double-curved S- was before me. Without looking I felt his two gray steel-drill eyes bore quickly into me. I plucked up all my strength to show a smile and to say （I had to say Something）， "I...I must go to the Medical Bureau."
"Who is detaining you？ What are you standing here for？"
I was silent， absurdly hanging upside down.
"Follow me，" said S- austerely.
