And the snow can be cruel too, and while we’re tearing into pig hearts before Paskha in the little kitchen Andrushka was on a surface like polished glass, and then everything turned upside down on the way to the corner shop for more smetana. And the ice cut through the gloves and he was bleeding into them, and he didn’t know if it hurt so much because of the cold or because of the wound. And the voice from behind: “Are you alright?” And he wasn’t sure, while he sat there stupidly in the snow, near the hockey pitch, and then, in a voice so soft he loved it, “No, you’re not…”
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5 Comments
was this after the metro blast?
The snow chops and bleeds, and you are there to shoot and write. Go back, they need you, and we need to hear more of Russia, Paskha and Virgin Mary (or other ecclesiastics). Congratulations.
Gosh, did this really happen? What a scary story. Feels like a car landing upside down in a mossy swamp. Hope Andrushka is better now?
Sure.. everything I say is true… even the half-truths
Hmm, Karma, that’s an interesting angle to it.