Stanislaw LEM. Solaris (№ 195412)

I leaned over her and lifted the short sleeve dress. Over similar to the flower label from smallpox vaccination blushed a little puncture mark. Although I wasn't expecting this (as you still instinctively tried to find the logic in scraps is not possible), I was not myself. I touched my finger to the wound, which I did for years, so I woke up with a groan on the ravaged bed, always in the same position - curled up as she lay, when I found her she was cold. Probably, in the dream I was trying to do what she wanted to beg for forgiveness or to be with her in those final moments, when she has already felt the effect of the injection and were scared. She was afraid to even the usual scratches, absolutely could not stand pain or the sight of blood and now you've done such a terrible thing, leaving five words on a postcard, addressed to me. The card was in my wallet, I wore it at all times, thumbed, torn at the folds and had not the courage to break up with her, a thousand times coming back to the moment when she wrote it, and what she was supposed to feel. I tried to tell myself that she wanted to make a joke and scare me and just randomly dose was too high. Friends tried to convince me that everything was exactly or what it was instant decision caused by depression, sudden depression. But they didn't know...
Five days before, I told her everything and to hurt her even more, began to collect things. And she, when I was Packed, asked very quietly: "You know what that means?.." I did not understand, but perfectly understood. I thought she was a coward and told her about it, and now she was lying across the bed and looked at me carefully, like he didn't know I killed her.