The Kiss
by Anton Chekhov(1887)
“He felt strangely tired. As he undressed and got into bed, covering himself with the blanket, he could not help thinking that this romance had come to an end.”
One great work, every day
by Anton Chekhov(1887)
“He felt strangely tired. As he undressed and got into bed, covering himself with the blanket, he could not help thinking that this romance had come to an end.”
Anton Chekhov(1887)
A brief, almost plotless story about a young soldier who receives an accidental kiss in a dark room from a woman he never sees clearly. He spends months afterward inflating the moment into a romance, and Chekhov traces the whole arc of infatuation and disillusionment with his characteristic blend of sympathy and irony. The soldier's mediocrity is gently, devastatingly rendered. When summer returns and the regiment passes the same estate, everything has changed and nothing has. This is Chekhov at his most delicate and precise.