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My friend married a Frenchman who worked at the Moscow consulate. She’d always be telling him to look at all the energy we Russians have. “All right, but can you tell me exactly what all this energy is for?” he’d ask her. And neither she nor I could answer him. I’d say, “The energy is pulsing, and that’s it.” I was seeing living people, living faces all around me. Everyone was so beautiful in those days! Where had all these people come from? Only yesterday you couldn’t find them anywhere. At
Secondhand Time: The Last of the Soviets
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