Moscow, May 2009

17 0 0
                                    

The deepest vaults of the Kremlin storehouse were as bas as anyone's cellars. It fell to a young intern to sort them out late that spring. He relabelled and reshelved boxes and boxes of documents from another time, before glasnost, before the welcoming of McDonald's into Russia's capital city, from long before he had even been born. If he'd had the time to rummage through them, they might have been fascinating, but there were far too many. They were to be catalogued and sorted, that was all.

At the end of his second day of housekeeping, Ivan paused in his work. lying alone on one of the highest metal shelving was a white oblong envelope. on it were the intriguing words: 'to be opened only by the leader of the solviet union in 2007'.
Ivan put down his pen and clipboard and flipped the envelope thoughtfully. He'd always wanted to deliver something to the president.

frozen within timeWhere stories live. Discover now