“Ivan spent the night with a Polish prostitute, lighting one cigarette with another.
Dmitri asked: You who loved Matryoshka, why?
Ivan said: I imagined it.”

The winter I had just gone through had numbed every cell in me. The devastating blow I received on my birthday kept me trapped for three months, until finally, a few days before Nowruz, I managed to pull myself together. I found a new job, and being in that energetic crowd changed my mood. I became like everyone else, working from morning till evening, sometimes attending university, and in the evenings, going to cafes or walking with friends.

It was May. The weather was neither too cold nor too hot. The midday sun didn’t annoy you but warmed your body in a way you could enjoy. The scent of tree blossoms filled the air. Passing by the usual fountains, the spray of water would hit my face, giving me a refreshing feeling.

Occasionally it rained, but not from dark autumn clouds. From white spring clouds. The weather was always bright. Everything was in place. Everyone was cheerful. Everyone was laughing. Until I saw her...