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Mark Ilyich sat in his spacious office, wrapped in the dusk of evening light, shuffling a stack of papers in his hands. Each one was the résumé of yet another applicant for the position of his personal assistant. Thirty-four years old, a steadily growing business, four appliance stores in different parts of the city. And … Read more

The body bent in a bow drilled into muscle memory, and eyes trained to catch the faintest signs of displeasure in a crowd froze on a blot by the entrance. A puddle not wiped up in time, smeared by someone’s hurrying wheel, looked like a shameful brand on the perfectly polished granite of his world. … Read more

The air in the White Lily restaurant was dense and many-layered. It was made of the aromas of rich dough browning in the oven, the sweetish smoke of frying onions, and a faint but stubborn note of unease. It drifted above the tables with their starched cloths and dissolved in the soft glow of the … Read more

Liliya didn’t remember her parents’ faces or voices. Her very first, most fragile memories were like a watercolor washed out by rain. In them, as if through a thick morning mist, there barely emerged the image of an elderly woman in an elegant, slightly timeworn hat and old-fashioned glasses with a thin metal frame. She … Read more

“Are you home?” Kirill asked briefly, calling his wife during his lunch break. His voice sounded muffled, as if coming from another dimension—from that world where life hummed along as usual, where people hurried about, laughed, and made plans. That world seemed to Rita so distant, almost unreal, like an old dream whose details had … Read more

Last summer brought such scorching days that the air above the field shimmered like a quivering sheet of water, and heat rose from the ground in a wavering haze that made every breath sear and drag. I was fixing my tractor right in the middle of the boundless field—the gearbox had failed, leaving the iron … Read more

Sofiya sat on the cool edge of the bathtub, unable to move, unable to tear her eyes away from the small plastic window where two clear, distinct lines had appeared. Her heart was pounding somewhere in her throat, drumming in her ears, every beat shouting the same thing—she was expecting a child. At twenty-three, with … Read more

Marina stood by the window, watching the autumn rain drum against the glass. Voices sounded behind her—Oleg was explaining something to the kids, his voice calm and assured, as always. He was like that when he talked to Dima and Katya. With them, he was a patient father who could laugh at a joke, help … Read more

— Katyusha, dear, open up! It’s me, with a little treat! The voice behind the door was so cloyingly sweet that Katya’s teeth ached for a second. She slowly wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, took a deep breath, and went to open it. On the threshold, beaming a carefully practiced smile, stood Svetlana … Read more

Lera sat on the floor in the small room, moving baby things from one box to another. At eight months pregnant her back ached, her legs were swollen, but she didn’t want to stop what she’d started. Tiny onesies with bunnies, soft swaddles, rattles—everything lay around her, waiting for its time. The nursery was small … Read more