pilfered_words

    The first thing I ought to say is that this is not mine. Or most of it isn’t. This story was originally written in Russian by a family friend, and I am translating it at his request. Let me know how you like it and I’ll pass it on. :)
I hope I have done the original justice, at least to some extent. There are several sentences that I have been staring at for so long that I am no longer certain if they make any sense at all as I translated them. If something is awkward-sounding or confusing, do tell me? Ditto for grammar errors. And, obviously, those awkward places, unlike the story, are all mine.
The other note I wanted to make before the story is this. This story is practically autobiographical. Minor details may have been changed, but the basics are all true. The author was born in Russia in 1942, and lived in the Soviet Union until it collapsed.The moment he could, he jumped ship and moved to the US, where he has now been for twenty-some years. I hope, therefore, that even if you don’t care for it as literature, you will find it interesting as history. If anything is confusing, let me know. This story badly needs footnotes, but I am not entirely sure where it needs them.

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( Chapter One )