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Not bombs nor my broken heart can take away from me walking barefoot with you in jasmine June through the Field of Mars.

Paullina Simons

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Paullina Simons
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: January 1
Translator
Writer
St. Petersburg
Fields
Walking
Broken
Jasmine
Away
Barefoot
Take
June
Heart
Mars
Bombs
Field

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Courage, Alexander..... Courage, Tatiana
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With my writing, because I live it, I have to be consumed by it, and that means you have to forget your other life, which is constantly pulling you from your work.
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We can’t forget that I owe you my life.” She gazed at him. “We can’t forget that I belong to you.” “I like that sound of that,” Alexander said, hugging her tighter.
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Love is when he is hungry and you feed him. Love is knowing when he is hungry.
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Tatiana: Why did we spend two days fighting when we could have been doing this? Alexander: That wasn't fighting, Tatiana. That was foreplay.
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Awash in a flood of hostility and despair, they battled and railed and shattered their bodies on one another, unable to find one strand, one sobering swallow of solace.
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And that's my point: all great things worth having require great sacrifice worth giving.
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Memory - that fiend, that cruel enemy of comfort.
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Tania, last time in Morozovo, I let you go, but not this time. This time we live together or we die together.
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Please stop looking at me, she thought, afraid of his eyes and terrified of her own heart.
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Dear God, Tatiana prayed in bed that night, turning to the wall and pulling the white sheet and the thin brown blanket over herself. If You are there somewhere, please teach me how to hide what I never knew how to show.
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When Tatiana looked up from her ice cream, she saw a soldier staring at her from across the street.
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But on that sunlit Sunday, Alexander knew nothing, thought nothing, imagined nothing. He forgot Dimitri and war and the Soviet Union and escape plans, and even America, and crossed the street for Tatiana Metanova.
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Tatiana realized she was too young to hide well what was in her heart but old enough to know that her heart was in her eyes.
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Tatiana had imagined her Alexander since she was a child, before she believed that someone like him was even possible. When she was a little girl, she dreamed of a fine world in which a good man walked its winding roads, perhaps somewhere in his wandering soul searching for her.
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Tania, there is so much still ahead of you. Be patient with life
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I don't want this life to end, said Alexander. The good, the bad, the everything, the very old, to ever end.
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This is days and days and months and years and all the minutes in between, just you me.
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Thank you, she whispered, for keeping yourself alive, soldier. You're welcome, he whispered back.
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Love is, to be loved,” said Alexander, “in return.
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