I used to go out to the shores of the lake; on one side was our convent and on the other the pointed mountain, they called it the Peak.

I used to go up that mountain, facing the east, fall down to the ground, and weep and weep, and I don't know how long I wept, and I don't remember or know anything about it.

I would get up, and turn back when the sun was setting, it was so big, and splendid and glorious--do you like looking at the sun, Shatushka?
It's beautiful but sad.

I would turn to the east again, and the shadow, the shadow of our mountain was flying like an arrow over our lake, long, long and narrow, stretching a mile beyond, right up to the island on the lake and cutting that rocky island right in two, and as it cut it in two, the sun would set altogether and suddenly all would be darkness.

And then I used to be quite miserable, suddenly I used to remember, I'm afraid of the dark, Shatushka.