For the short story reader. Updated every Monday.

The Short Form

“The Road”

Vasily Grossman


The plain grew broader. The mules now sensed its vastness not so much with their eyes as with their hooves. Their hooves sank deeper and deeper into the soft ground. Sticky clods dragged at their legs. Now heavy with rain, vaster and more powerful than ever, the plain continued to stretch out, to expand, to broaden.

The mule’s large, spacious brain, used to conceiving vague images of smells, of form, and of color, was now conceiving of an image of something very different, an image of a concept created by philosophers and mathematicians, an image of infinity itself—of the misty Russian plain and cold autumn rain pouring down over it without end.

We read it in The Road.