Siberian always left Moscow at night. It wasn't that late yet,
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wanted to sleep, and I didn't want to make her more irate than she already was. So we
turned off all the lights,
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magazine at the train station, and even if I couldn't understand the language,
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pictures of makeup and clothes transcended all cultural barriers. I flipped through the
pages as quietly as I could, admiring summer tops and dresses and wondering when -
if ever-I'd be able to start worrying about that kind of thing again.
I wasn't tired when I lay down, but sleep took me nonetheless. I was dreaming about
water-skiing when suddenly, the waves and sun around me dissolved into a room
lined with shelves and shelves of books. Tables with state-of-the-art computers lined
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I groaned. "Oh,
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"Why not today? Why not every day?"