Trans-Siberian Express
“A gray light revealed the outline of objects as he searched through little piles of cast-off clothing for his wristwatch. He vaguely remembered shoving it into the pocket of his trousers.He had managed to slip out of bed without awakening Anna Petrovna. The size of the bunk had become a joke between them, and they laughed at the idea that they slept, talked and copulated in a space barely fit for one undersized human.He found his wristwatch. It was 3A.M. , Moscow time, but he was ravenous. He t...iptoed to where his overcoat was hanging, put it on over his naked body and slumped in the chair, curling his feet underneath him for warmth. Outside, the gray light brightened, picking out shimmering icicles that hung from the white birches. Sunrise was not far away.He looked at the long strands of blonde hair that lay jumbled on the pillow. He reached out and touched them, careful to keep his hand light. He sighed, feeling the weight of time. One more day and one more night, he calculated, and then Irkutsk.“I’ll get off with you at Irkutsk,”MoreLess
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