December 1, 2021

A Phone Call

—Ok, fine, let me help you. Let’s see if your brain cells are still intact. Close your eyes, meditate for a second—imagine that you’re back in Leningrad, late-1980s, it’s May or June, the White Nights, the bridges are up (aren’t they always up during the White Nights?). You and I, the two of us, are stuck across the river. I’m wearing a light muslin dress with draw strings up front. Off white color with floral pattern. You tell me I look like a Latvian peasant and that no one in Leningrad would wear a dress like that. Then you kiss me…

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