Krapp's Last Tape

Transporter box.

Coil Five.

Coil.

Kathu-y-u-scale.

The box tp-r-ri.

Tr-ri.

Four.

Two.

Nine?!

Holy Saints.

Seven.

Shalunishka!

Korbok three.

Coil...

Five.

Five.

A! Fucker!

Coil Five.

Box three.

Coil Five.

Katu-y-o-the-closet!

Mother finally

wasted.

Black ball.

Black ball?

Swarthy Nanny.

Some improvement in bowel function.

The memorable.

What?

Equinox?

The vernal equinox.

A memorable equinox?

Goodbye...

Love.

Thirty-nine.

It looks like a signal.

Dog!

Thirty-nine.

It looks like a signal.

Not to mention my old weakness.

As for the intellect.

Apparently I...

On the ridge.

Or so.

Noted a gloomy date,

As in past years, slowly

in the tavern.

Not a soul.

Sitting by the fire with his eyes closed.

Separating grain.

From husk.

I sketched a couple of lines on the envelope.

It's good to go back to your lair, get into your trepidation.

I just ate, I'm ashamed to say three bananas.

And with difficulty I refused the fourth.

Fatal for a person in my condition.

End them.

A new lamp is a major achievement.

In this darkness

I feel not so alone.

In a manner.

I like to get up sometimes and wander.

And back to...

To me.

Krepp.

Grains.

What I wonder, I mean.

I mean.

Must be I mean.

The values that will remain

when all the trouble...

When all my turbidity is settled

I'll close my eyes.

And I'll introduce them to myself.

Incredibly quiet evening today.

I strain my ears and can not hear a sound.

Old Miss Muggle always sings at this time.

And today he is silent.

Says the songs of her youth.

It is difficult to imagine her as a young woman.

And yet a wondrous woman.

From Connacht, probably.

Will I sing at her age? If I survive.

No.

And in my childhood I sang?

No.

Have I ever sung?

No.

Just listened to fragments of old records, at random.

I did not compare the book, but...

but it was written ten or twelve years ago.

Then I still lived sometimes.

C Bianco, on Kidar Street.

Hos-spodi, do not talk about it.

Hopeless!

Well, what about her,

except that about her eyes...

with all their warmth.

So I see them.

Incomparable!

Ah, okay.

All these post mortem gloomy thing

but they often...

help move to new

retrospectives.

It is hard to believe that I used to be such a puppy.

A voice, Os-spodi!

A gusts!

And solutions!

Especially less to plump.

Statistics.

Thousand seven hundred hours.

From the previous eight with something.

Exclusively on taverns.

More than twenty percent.

All forty, not counting sleep.

Plans to move to less...

A fascinating sexual life.

The last illness of the father.

Lentz, in pursuit of happiness.

Futile attempts to forget yourself.

Mockery of what he calls his youth,

praise the Lord, for the fact that she passed.

Here, however, false notes.

Outlines opus...

magnum.

Which ends -

a tearful cry for Providence.

And what is left of all those sorrows?

Girl in a green, shabby

a coat at the railway station?

No?

When I look back...

look back at the past year,

I look, I hope

an enlightened look of old age.

I, of course, will see the canal house

where the mother dies.

Late autumn, after a long widowing

and -...

after a long widowing.

Status or position

in which the person is or remains a widow

or a widower.

Stay or stay?

Deep mourning widowhood.

Applicable also to animals

especially to birds.

Paradise widow or bird-weaver.

Black plumage of a male.

Paradise widow...

the shop by the dam, from which you can see its window.

There I was sitting, in the wind

and wished that she died.

Almost nobody.

So, a couple of regulars.

Nurses, children, old people,

dogs.

I already knew them all well.

Externally, of course.

One swarthy young beauty I particularly remember.

All in white, starched.

Gorgeous chest.

And with a black covered carriage.

Straight a hearse of some kind.

How not to look at her, she stared at me.

And yet, when I grew bold enough

to speak without being presented.

She threatened me with police.

As if I infringed upon her virtue!

What a face!

And my eyes!

How...

chrysolites.

Ah, okay.

I was there when...

the curtains went down

such a dirty brown curtain.

As luck would have it, he tossed the ball to some dog.

I looked up and saw.

Here it is.

All finally over.

A couple of moments I was sitting with a ball in my hand.

And the dog whined and pawed at me with his paw.

Moments.

Her Moments.

My.

Bird.

In the end I handed the ball to the dog.

And he took it in his mouth, so gently

gently

small, old, black

solid rubber ball