Everything was over. Or, at least, everything had changed. I was “lucky” enough to find myself momentarily stationed in a gateway of sorts. Many of my comrades sold whatever they could and moved on as soon as possible. I felt a prompting within and kept what little I had, paramount of which was my utilitarian gray coat. Oh, that beautiful wool. Cold, damp desperation seeping into almost everything, my coat was my last remaining barrier. It contained my everything within. It contained me. … I kept my hands in the pockets and stretched my legs out as the train carried (time) forward (!) and, instead of thinking about the future, I remembered that girl on the beach from yesterday, yes, eating melon. … Russians and Ukrainians, I smiled to myself, eyes shut, we both love the luxury of eating fruit.
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