“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me, you little brat! I’ll do such a number on you that your own mother won’t recognize you!”
“Your beets, Veronika, are kind of… from the supermarket or something? They’ve got no flavor of their own. Bland,” Tamara Pavlovna’s voice, thick and sluggish like cooled jelly, filled the entire small kitchen. She held a spoonful of borscht suspended in the air like an expert taster delivering a verdict on a defendant. Under the […]
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