— “What do you mean ‘Elena Vladimirovna’? You’re only twenty-nine!” her friends would remark, chuckling. — “It stuck,” Lena would wave it off. “For clients I’m Elena Vladimirovna; for suppliers—especially. And for colleagues.” Lena was building her business and meant it seriously. So at work the tone was businesslike, with no chumminess. — “Come on, […]
Продолжение...
The autumn air in the settlement of Lesnaya Sloboda was thick, sweet, and searingly cold. It smelled of rotting leaves, smoke from stove pipes, and that special, timeless silence that wraps the soul like a good old blanket. Olga had come here, to the nest she’d left long ago, to visit her parents—or rather, their […]
Продолжение...
Lena had always known the value of her apartment. Not in rubles, but in the meaning her late father put into it when he said, “Daughter, this is your fortress. As long as you have your own place, you don’t have to bow to anyone.” The two-room apartment on the fourth floor of a panel-built […]
Продолжение...
Marina stopped in the bedroom doorway, watching Roman hurriedly pack his things into a scuffed backpack. His movements were sharp, jittery—as if he were getting ready to flee. The zipper snapped shut with a metallic click, and he turned his back to the wardrobe. — Going somewhere? — She stepped into the room. — Rom? […]
Продолжение...
“The Boy on Fifth Avenue” The sun had only begun to nick the edges of Manhattan’s towers when Alejandro Vargas stepped out of his Fifth Avenue building. Madrid was a lifetime behind him now; here he was Alejandro-the-mogul—deals, press, a glassy S-Class idling at the curb. In an hour he’d be pitching a billion-dollar Miami […]
Продолжение...
Rain drummed against the café windows where Kira was waiting for Pavel. A year of dating is no small thing, and at last the guy had decided to introduce his girlfriend to his mother. Kira was nervous, adjusting the dark blue dress she’d bought especially for the occasion. She wanted to make a good impression. […]
Продолжение...
Marina was slowly wiping the glass surface of the dining table when she heard the familiar sound of keys in the lock. Ilya had come home from work earlier than usual. She straightened up, fixed her hair, and greeted her husband with a smile. “Hi, dear,” she said, approaching him. “How was your day?” “Fine,” […]
Продолжение...
Anna Sergeyevna always came to work fifteen minutes early. Not out of zeal or a desire to impress—just because it felt right. While other employees were hastily finishing their coffee in the hallway, she was already sorting the mail, preparing documents for signature, and checking the director’s meeting schedule. Her workstation—a small desk outside the […]
Продолжение...
Galina Petrovna heard the familiar sound of car doors closing and involuntarily tensed. Friday, half past six in the evening. Like clockwork. She didn’t even approach the window—she already knew what she would see: Nikolai’s blue Logan, from which his whole family was already climbing out, and behind it, Svetlana’s battered Lada with her brood […]
Продолжение...
The road home stretched out like an old film reel stuck in a projector—slowly, with crackling sounds, with the feeling that every kilometer demanded something new from her: trembling fingers, pain in her chest, tears she did not allow herself to shed. Svetlana was rushing along UDO Street—a street that led to the past, to […]
Продолжение...