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Dino Buzzati "Seven Floors" / 2audio + story




Dino Buzzati "Seven Floors"
(the most terrible story in Buzzati, in my opinion)

 

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Dino Buzzati is multifaceted. He is lyrical and cruel, merry and philosophically sad. This is his most terrible story. I do not want to announce it. The story should be read or listen (I did not like the voice).
There is an option: you can listen to the radio play
Dino Buzzati "Curious case"
although he is also very far from the story itself.
eleven
ill. Dino Buzzati to his story "SEVEN FLOORS"
And in order to "extinguish" the heavy and terrible impression of the story,
you can listen to a wonderful lyric radio performance
Dino Buszati ??"Strike of telephones"
biography of Dino Buzzati



stories by Dino Buzzati
Dino Buzzati
SEVEN FLOORS

Early March morning, after a whole day of jolting on the train, Giuseppe Corte arrived in the city where the famous clinic was located.
His temperature was slightly elevated, but despite this, he walked all the way from the station on foot, with a suitcase in his hand.
Although the disease was mild, Giuseppe was advised to contact this well-known clinic, which specializes only in this disease. It inspired confidence that there are the most competent doctors and the best equipment.

The building of Giuseppe Corte found out from a distance: he had already seen it in a photograph in the brochure - and was quite satisfied. It was a white seven-story house with niches on the facade, which gave it some resemblance to the hotel. From all sides the clinic was surrounded by tall trees.

After a general medical examination, on the eve of a more thorough examination, Giuseppe Corte was placed in the ward on the seventh - the topmost - floor. The room was excellent: all around cleanliness, bright furniture, linens and curtains are snow-white, wooden chairs are studded with bright, motley cloth. From a wide window one could see a view of one of the most beautiful corners of the city. Everything here breathed peace, hospitality and gave hope.

Giuseppe Corte immediately went to bed and, turning on the light above the headboard, began to read the book he had brought with him.
A little later the sister came into the room and asked if there was anything that needed to be done.
Giuseppe Corte did not need anything, but he willingly ventured into talking with the girl, began to question her about the clinic. So he learned about one strange feature.

Patients were distributed on the floors according to the severity of the disease. The seventh was for the easiest. Patients with the sixth already had symptoms, suggesting some fear. The fifth was intended for those who had serious complications, and so on - from floor to floor. On the second lay very seriously ill patients. On the first - suicide bombers.
This unique system not only greatly facilitated the maintenance, but also allowed creating on each floor, so to speak, a homogeneous environment, eliminating unwanted emotions in the lungs at the sight of others' suffering and agony. On the other hand, such an order made it possible to correctly distribute treatment and care.
As a result, a kind of seven-step hierarchy was created.

Each floor was a separate world with only its inherent rules and traditions. And since each branch was headed by his doctor, this gave rise to minor, but quite definite, differences in the methods of treatment; At the same time, the Director General directed all the work of the medical institution into a single channel.

When the sister left, Giuseppe Corte got up and, feeling that the temperature was asleep, took a few steps around the room, looked out the window - not so much to admire the panorama of an unfamiliar city, how much in hope to see the sick in the chambers of the lower floors. Niches on the facade gave such an opportunity.

Giuseppe Corte focused his attention on the first floor windows, but they were far below, looked only from the side, and nothing interesting was revealed to his gaze. Most of them were tightly closed by gray curtains.
Suddenly, Korte noticed that a man leaned out of the window of the next room. They looked at each other for a long time, but neither of them dared to speak. Finally Giuseppe Corte got ready with the spirit and asked:

"Are you also here recently?"
"Alas, no," he answered, "I've been here two months already ..." He paused, not knowing how to continue the conversation, then added: "I'm looking out for my brother."
"Your brother?"
"Yes," said the stranger. "We, oddly enough, arrived on the same day, but his condition worsened all the time, and, think only, he is now on the fourth.
"What do you mean, on the fourth?"
"On the fourth floor," he said, with an expression of such compassion and horror in his face that Giuseppe Court was cold.
"Is it really that heavy sick on the fourth floor?" he asked cautiously.
"And do not say it!" - The interlocutor slowly shook his head. - Of course, not entirely hopeless, but still little joy.
"But if on the fourth floor there are so many sick people, who is then put on the first?" - asked Korte with the humorous ease with which we are talking about sad things that do not concern us personally.
- Oh, first.

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