We met Andrei when we were walking in Alexandrov’s bedroom district. He had gone out to get a bottle of vodka from a taxi driver and bumped into us on the narrow snow-covered path at the entrance to his two-storey apartment building.
“You should stop digging for drug stashes here, there’s nothing to find.”
We explained that we were tourists and asked whether we could visit his house. It transpired that Andrei had come home from the special military operation but was planning to go back. He was a drinker. He offered us buckwheat, sausages and tea and told us we couldn’t say no. First he took care of us. He heated the food, boiled water, and served us a simple lunch. Only then did he sit down, open the bottle, and pour himself some vodka.
“Aren’t you scared of dying?” I asked him.
He was silent for a long time before replying.
“I’m scared of watching people die.”
And then he wept.
Source: Dmitry Markov (Instagram), 6 February 2024. Translated by the Russian Reader
