Russian Village in Evening Light
An old village resting by the side of the Volga River. The church roof had caved in and not many people lived here. Not a soul was visible. They’d died or gone to the big city, the same story as everywhere in the world.
There were memories, though, that seemed to emanate from the dilapidated isbas (cottages). Memories of Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Pushkin, Chekov. Those will keep the village alive forever.
Our ship floated by.