63: "NOVEMBER SUN"

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JUST OVER THREE WEEKS LATER
OCTOBER 2, 2019

The Spetsnaz agents at the exchange site near Khabarovsk had searched the bodies of Matvei Federov and Boris Andreyev, along with what remained of Khatri and his men, before disposing of the corpses, bagging personal belongings of the deceased, and putting out the fire in the countryside.

The unit extracted quickly, informing their superiors that the targets had been eliminated.

They had missed one thing, though: a folded piece of paper, worn and faded by time's sands. It had been in Matvei's pocket, but the wind had taken it from the bucket of his belongings in the back of the Ural utility truck before it could be secured in an evidence bag.

It was this very piece of paper that a boy and his father found three weeks later while hiking the woods north of Khabarovsk.

Chance, the wind, and perhaps a bit of destiny, had seen the folded document tossed about to a final resting place amongst pine needles and pebbles off the beaten path... and now, beneath the boy's hiking boot.

"Papa!"  the boy beckoned. He knelt and picked up the wrinkled paper from the soil, and dusted the dirt off of it.

"What'd you find?" his father called, stepping over a fallen tree.

"It's... it's a poem. Someone wrote a poem on it." The boy handed it to his father.

"Oh?" The man took the page from his son, blew on it to get more dirt off the paper, and held it up to examine it.

For Matty and Yegor
Aug 3, 2004

Snow will fall, come winter
As the sun shines in the summer
And so shall you rise come morning
No matter how hard you might falter

If you lose your way on the road
Or perhaps are too weak to run
Remember: not even November fog
Can hide the golden sun

Bad grades don't define us. I know you'll do better next semester!
Love you both ~ Tania

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