It’s not hard to understand, it is terrifying, and Aliocha’s heart wallops in his chest as the train chugs along at a constant speed just like the boy’s terror will, from here on in: at the end of the rails, there will be the barracks and the diedovchina, the hazing, and once he’s there, if the second-year conscripts burn his dick with cigarettes, if they make him lick the toilets, deprive him of sleep or fuck him up the ass, no one will be able to do anything to help.
