Subsequently Pototsky said to me:

I am a writer, shit, like Chekhov. Chekhov was absolutely right. The story
You can write about anything. Stories of Naval. Take any profession.
For example a doctor. Please please. The surgeon, fucking, does the operation. He will know the sick.
The rival. The man with whom his wife changed. Before the Surgeon
A moral, a dilemma. To save a man, or to cut him off.
No, it’s too much, it’s fucking, curvature... In general, the surgeon hesitates. and then
Take a scalpel and do a miracle. End, fucking, such: "The nurse long, long
I looked after him..." Or, for example, about the sea, — said Pototsky, —
The sailor, fucking, is retired. He leaves his native ship. On the ship
His friends, his past, his youth. It’s dark, he goes
The beach fountain. And you see, fucking, the boy is drowning. A seafarer without thinking.
He throws into the ice. Risking his life, he pulls out a guy.
And "I’ve always remembered this hand. A large hand with a
The blue anchor on the wrist..." That is, the sailor always remains a sailor, even
If he is, fucking, on retirement..."