(1999, from a book of stories written for my academy graduation project; spelling & punctuation unchanged)
Charlotte accompanies me on my trips to Russia. She is already accustomed to Russian “traditions and dispositions”, knows a lot of people there and doesn’t feel like a guest anymore. My parents say she is their second daughter.
In summer we usually stay in the summer house that is equipped with all the necessary things, food growing under your nose, a sauna plus different forms of nature.
Because Charlotte and I spend a lot of time together, it is nice to make appointments for a change. We agree to meet an a truck-drivers café (feels like going out) that is 3 km away from the house; one of us is going by bicycle, one walks through the forest.
In the café we eat a piece of chicken – real “on-the-road” food that is, especially after living for a month on vegetables only. The café is open 24 hours a day, the main clients are truck-drivers and soldiers, both radio and TV are on and rather loud. Civilisation in one word.
On the way home we pick mushrooms to go with the potatoes later on.