Victor Pelevin. Chapaev and Emptiness (№ 446)

While idiots the adults are busy rebuilding their fictional world, the children continue to live in reality: among snowy mountains and sunlight, on the black mirrors of the frozen reservoirs and into the mystical silence of the snowy night yards. And even though these children were also infected with the Bacillus struck Russia madness - it was clear by the glances which they threw at the glittering Chapaev's sword and my revolver, all in their pure eyes still shone with the memory of something long-forgotten me; perhaps it was an unconscious memory of the great source of all existing things, from which they are venturing into the infamous desert life, haven't had time to get too far away.