This is a chronicle of the last hours of Pechorin's life, dying in Persia. The past life in fragmentary flashes-memories painfully and obsessively reminds of itself. It seems that the very hot breath of the desert is leafing through the pages of the novel. The past in all ruthless detail comes from Pechorin's documentary accurate memory. And now, on the edge of life, to do with it?.. And the desert wind uplifts and drives on the eternal sand...