Daniil Kharms. Blue Notebook No. 10
(8) The Carpenter Kushakov Once there was a carpenter. He was called Kushakov. One day he left his house and went off to the shop to buy some carpenter's glue. There had been a thaw and it was very slippery on the street. The carpenter took a few steps, slipped, fell down and cracked his forehead open. -- Ugh! -- said the carpenter, got up, went off to the chemist's, bought a plaster and stuck it on his forehead. But when he went out on to the street he again slipped, fell and smashed his nose. -- Huh! -- said the carpenter, went off to the chemist's, bought a plaster and stuck the plaster over his nose. Then he went out on to the street again, again slipped, fell and cracked open his cheek. Once again he had to go off to the chemist's and stick a plaster over his cheek. -- Well, then -- the chemist said to the carpenter -- you seem to fall and hurt yourself so often, that I would advise you to buy several plasters while you are at it. -- No -- said the carpenter -- I'm not going to fall any more! But when he went out on to the street he slipped again, fell and smashed his chin. -- Damn these icy patches! -- exclaimed the carpenter and again ran off to the chemist's. -- There you are, you see -- said the chemist. -- You've gone and fallen again. -- Not at all! -- shouted the carpenter. -- I won't hear another word! Give me a plaster, and hurry up! The chemist handed over a plaster; the carpenter stuck it on his chin and ran off home. But at home they didn't recognize him and wouldn't let him into the flat. -- I'm the carpenter Kushakov! -- the carpenter shouted. -- Pull the other one! -- was the reply from the flat and they fastened the door, both with the key and with the chain. The carpenter Kushakov stood on the staircase for a flit, spat and went off down the street.