Work

I am back. I read all of Part Two last night in the Dostoevsky, it was an amazing 150 pages of reading after the emotional minefield of last week.

Through the privileged prism of my vocation I was at my typical perch at the library with Bug, she engrossed as usual with the Cultural Atlas of Russia. I noticed that after I read a page or two my eyes would drift over to the Atlas, looking for images of the hazed preterit along the mysterious Neva. I never saw that but I did notice comely portraits of Peter, that monster.