September that year turned out to be unusually warm. During the day, the sun still felt almost summery, but toward evening a chill crept into the air, and the first yellow leaves rustled along the sidewalks. Tetiana had twice wanted to cancel the meeting. At first, she typed into their group chat: “Girls, I might … Read more
At seven o’clock on Saturday morning, I was already standing behind my mother-in-law with a curling iron in my hand. The kitchen smelled of hairspray and the coffee Viktoria Ivanivna had brewed for herself in a cezve. As usual, she didn’t offer me any. On the windowsill, twenty-four place cards with the guests’ names were … Read more
The gate in Hanna’s yard had always stuck a little. You had to lift it by the handle before pushing it because the lower edge scraped against the concrete path. Marharyta Stepanivna knew this by heart. In more than thirty years, she had opened that gate hundreds of times: carrying a jar of cherry jam, … Read more
Olena wrote to him at night, when the apartment had finally gone quiet. She would sit down in the kitchen, pull the lamp closer, and write in her neat teacher’s handwriting: “Dad, we’re doing fine.” Then she would seal the envelope, write the address she had known by heart since childhood, and place it on … Read more
Olena woke up before the alarm clock. It was still dark outside, even though the clock showed almost seven. The September morning was gloomy: rain tapped softly against the windowsill, while the wind occasionally tugged at the yellowing leaves of the old linden tree beside the building. She lay motionless for a few seconds, staring … Read more
My husband has hands that never quite come clean. He scrubs them with a brush under the tap, then takes that yellow paste from a little tin and scrubs again — but there’s always a dark line left under his fingernails. Grease, oil, metal. Twenty-two years of that kind of work. That evening, I looked … Read more
I never felt like I truly belonged in my mother-in-law’s house. Even at holiday dinners, Zoya Arkadyevna seated the relatives according to some hierarchy that only she seemed to understand. Her daughter Snezhana and her husband were always placed closer to her, one niece sat on the right, another on the left, while I usually … Read more
There was a bag standing by the radiator in the hallway—huge, the kind people took with them to wholesale markets. Vera took off her work smock, hung it on a hook, and only then noticed that the bag was zipped shut and visibly stuffed full. Lidia Arkadyevna came out of the room, stopped in the … Read more
Marina entered the apartment building at ten minutes past ten, and, as luck would have it, the elevator was stuck on the ninth floor. She climbed the stairs, counting the steps, rehearsing a calm expression on every landing. The laptop bag dragged heavily on her shoulder, while the invoices for three trucks flashed red in … Read more
The phone buzzed in the hallway, between the elevator and the glass door of the conference room. Oleg looked at the name on the screen, grimaced, but answered anyway. It said “Vera.” “Hello.” “Hi. Sorry to call during work. Miron needs some tests done. They gave us a referral to a private clinic, and the … Read more