— I’ll burn it. Right here, in front of your eyes. Alevtina Ignatyevna’s voice—my mother-in-law—was dry as old parchment. She stood in the middle of the living room Rodion and I had furnished together, holding a thick, unmarked envelope. Her face showed nothing. The icy mask she’d worn since the day of the funeral. “You … Read more
The earth smelled of grief and damp. Every clod thrown onto the coffin lid thudded dully somewhere beneath my ribs. Fifty years. An entire life lived with Dmitry. A life filled with quiet respect, with habit that had grown into tenderness. I didn’t cry. My tears had dried up last night, when I sat by … Read more
Julia shut down her computer and stretched. It had been a tough day—the client presentation dragged on, then a meeting, then contract edits. Her head throbbed and her shoulders were stiff. She wanted to get home, take a shower, and collapse on the couch with a book. The two-room apartment on Leninsky Prospekt had become … Read more
Hot dishes hadn’t even been served yet, but the air at the table was thick enough to cut with a knife. Zinaida Arkadyevna Voropaeva, the lady of the house, folded her linen napkin with an unreadable face. Her movements were precise and measured, like a surgeon before an operation. She took a pen from her … Read more
Every morning Yulia woke to the sound of raindrops tapping on the windowsill and saw gray clouds outside. The weather seemed to match her mood—anxious, uncertain, filled with vague suspicions. For the third week in a row, her husband Igor packed a sports bag and announced: “ My parents aren’t feeling well. I’ll go to … Read more
Anna Sergeyevna stood at the foot of a huge glass building where a special, headlong kind of life reigned. The height of the structure seemed endless, and her reflection in its walls looked distorted and alien. She adjusted the modest, frayed-at-the-edges bag on her shoulder and took a deep breath. The air was cold and … Read more
“Alinka, enough already with stuffing yourself with pastries, or soon you won’t fit through the doorway!” Stas’s voice—loud and self-satisfied—was still ringing in her ears. It had boomed out last night, cutting through the cheerful buzz of a friendly get-together. And right after it—an explosion of laughter. Not malicious, no. Just simple, stupid, male guffawing … Read more
— Are you serious right now? — Margarita slowly set the book down on the arm of the sofa. Her voice was so even and quiet that for a moment it seemed as if she were merely clarifying some trivial detail. Andrey, who had already kicked off one shoe in the entryway, turned and looked … Read more
The shadow from the tall poplar outside had already split the yard in two when the worst moment in sixteen years of the Beketovs’ life together began. The living room air—stagnant with cigarette smoke and unsaid words—felt thick enough to slice. Artyom Viktorovich, veins ridging the backs of his hands and a commander’s stare turned … Read more
Yana pushed open the apartment door and immediately caught the low hum of voices coming from the kitchen. Her husband, Igor, was in there with his mother—Valentina Stepanovna—who had shown up that morning and, as usual, made the kitchen her base camp. “So what’s with the TV?” Igor was asking. “It’s ancient,” his mother complained. … Read more