Every Friday, the child would carry food to the deserted wasteland. It was only with the arrival of spring that it became clear who he was doing it for.
In January, the frost around Novomikhaylovsk was so intense that the hoarfrost on the wires sparkled in the sun. Seven-year-old Kirill Timofeev would wake up earlier than his mother’s alarm clock on Fridays—only on that day of the week. The rest of the time, everything went as usual: kindergarten, school, work, stores. But for the … Read more