The Memory Keeper of Kyiv

by Erin Litteken

collectivization must be voluntary for it to work,”

Although she could see his body lying there in a pool of blood, the idea that she would never talk to him again was so foreign that it felt impossible. How could they not stare up into the clouds together and pick out pictures? How could they not fight over the names of the ten children they wanted to have together? How could she have a future without him in it?

Things will get worse before they get better, but you are strong. Just make it through today and hope that tomorrow will be better.

His eyes widened and she felt the shift in his body, the flight of his soul like a knife to her heart.

Every night, she tossed and turned, the sweet oblivion of sleep unattainable for her tortured soul. And, every morning, she started off the day with a violent bout of vomiting, which, in her more delusional moments, she imagined was her body rejecting Mama’s attempts to sustain her through the food she forced down her throat.

“Do you know death is not the end? It’s just another reality.

She would not scream; she would welcome the agony of birth. To feel something besides grief, besides despair, would be a joy, no matter how much physical pain it brought. And with that pain would come a small piece of Pavlo. For