The Motion Demon by Stefan Grabiński

Author:Stefan Grabiński [Grabiński, Stefan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Classics
ISBN: 1553100840
Goodreads: 3484674
Publisher: Ash-Tree Press
Published: 2005-01-01T11:00:00+00:00

‘Excuse me, and once again a sincere thanks.’

She gave him her hand, which he kissed chivalrously.

‘Agapit Kluczka, judicial clerk,’ he presented himself, tipping his hat.

He was in a rosy mood. The information phase today had surpassed all his expectations so that when, around ten, the porter threw out in the hall with a stentorian voice the cry for departure, the perpetual passenger carried out all his symbolic actions with the redoubled energy of a young man in his twenties. And though after his repeated return to the waiting room, the third intermezzo did not seem tempting, his high enthusiasm did not fall, and Kluczka’s spirit was bolstered with the memory of the successful information phase.

Despite this, today’s ‘journey’ was not fated to end happily. For when two hours later—that is, after midnight—Kluczka tried to force his way with his suitcase through the unprecedented crowds to a third-class compartment, he suddenly felt someone pluck him strongly by the collar and take him down roughly from the steps of the train. Looking around in fury, he saw by the light of a centre-track lantern the irate face of the conductor, and he heard in the tumult of voices the following apostrophe apparently meant for him:

‘Get the hell out of here! There’s a crush here so great that one can’t even move a pin, and despite this, this lunatic is pushing through the steps like a madman and shoving people aside, only to jump out later on the other side at the moment of departure. I know you, my bird, and not just from today; I’ve been watching you for a long time! Well, get the hell out of here or I’ll call the military police! There is no time today for indulging the half-witted whims of crazy people!’

Stupefied, frightened to the bone, Kluczka found himself unexpectedly beyond the tight crowds of the passengers, and, as if drunk, he staggered somewhere among the columns of the platform.

‘You deserved that,’ he murmured through tightened teeth. ‘Why did you have to push your way to the third-class compartment instead of the second? Inferior compartments, inferior service. I always told you that. One can tell a gentleman by his knee-boots.’

Calmed a bit by this reasoning, he straightened his crumpled coat and went stealthily from the platform to the waiting room, from there to the entrance hall, and then to the street. He had had enough ‘travelling’ for today—the last occurrence had disheartened him from finishing his journey, cutting it short by one hour.

It was already after midnight. The city slept. The lights of roadside inns had died out, beerhouses and restaurants had become silent. Here and there a consumptive street lamp at a corner in the far distance brightened the darkness of the street; here and there, the faint gleam from some underground den slid along the sidewalk. Now and then, the quick step of a late passer-by, or the distant baying of dogs let down from a chain, interrupted the quiet of sleep….

With his suitcase

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