A quiet day
The rumble of artillery is mixed with birdsong. There is almost no sound of traffic, not many people drive in this part of Kharkiv. Outside the Studentska subway station, that is the local bomb-shelter there is a young woman with long flowing hair. Her name is Anastasia. I ask her if she is afraid and she says no.
“I feel that if I say that I am afraid, they will win.”
A few minutes later grenades explode a couple of blocks away. There, on the asphalt close to a green bench Alina Lebedeva’s son thirty-eight year old Alexander lies absolutely still. Alina tries to wake him up, shakes him. He cannot be dead. Cannot. I feel for a pulse in his neck, his wrists. Nothing.
Ambulance, police and friends arrive. They all help to put Alexander in a body bag to be transported to the morgue. His friends tell me that he was a contruction worker. A nice man, always helpful and friendly. When the ambulance leaves Alina sits on the bench, alone. Pedestrians stroll by, a man is out with his dog, a couple walk by hand in hand.
Just before the ambulance leave the driver says that there has been seven injured and three killed today.
“It is a quiet day.