One day!

I will understand that the nightmare of the last seven months was precisely that- a bad dream.

One day I will wake up in a cozy and clean, if worn down, flat in Taganka at 4 am and look at the creamy daylight on the other side of the Brezhnev-era curtains. I will jump off my bed that was probably bought when Khrushchev was in charge of the Soviet Union. I’ll frantically rush to find my cell phone to know what the time is, stressed that my train t…