Chapter 37: August 19th: My Dearest Barbara Alexievna

August 19th: My Dearest Barbara Alexievna August 19th. My dearest Barbara Alexievna,—Yes, I am ashamed to meet you, my darling—I am ashamed. At the same time, what is there in all this? Why should we not be cheerful again? Why should I mind the soles of my feet coming through my boots? The sole of one’s foot is a mere bagatelle—it will never be anything but just a base, dirty sole. And shoes do not matter, either. The Greek sages used to walk about without them, so why should we coddle…