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In an unspecified location, away from the city bustle of Vladivostok, on the edge of intersecting roads, in the forest setting of soaring pines, the atmosphere of mystery was palpable. There was something incredible here. The clearing that could be seen in the distance seemed to whisper ominously against the moonlight’s backdrop. Nobody has visited this place in ages. The inhabitants of the nearby village avoided passing by this place, especially at night. Rumors said that several hundred years ago a man was hanged here, a man who’s spirit remains haunting the place.

Like everyday, Nadya was doing her best to cook dinner and tidy the house before Sasha returns from work. Their small, wooden cabin was quite damaged which resulted in having to patch it up very often. Additionally, they didn’t have enough money for basic needs, so she had to make food from scraps. They were already fed up with traditional purée with friend eggs, yet there was no other choice but enjoy it — they haven’t died from hunger yet. They’ll also have to gather firewood, because it appears that this winter will be harsh — pondered Nadya, standing near the window in her kitchen apron. She observed the nearby patch of forest. This was a place that immediately amazed her the first time she saw it, when they moved here. The bustle of the city has been definitely overwhelming them, and here, they felt a sort of relief and could enjoy nature in it’s most pure state. She loved this place. This silence and peace soothed her thoughts that had been disorganized for a long time. After all, they were willing to travel hundreds of kilometers to live here, practically in the middle of nowhere, a few miles from a village with a population of less than two hundred inhabitants.

It didn’t matter that the nearest store was several dozen minutes away by car — actually, their old van did the job just fine. But will they be able to forget the nightmare? — Nadya thought with a heavy heart, tears falling from her beautiful eyes.

When Sasha arrived home with a wide grin on his face, dinner was already served. Nadya was an extremely thrifty woman for her young age and could cook wonderfully. She was a rather plump brunette with well-defined facial features, and her naturally curly locks flowed around a face that had been worn out by recent years. Sasha sat down by the dinner table, making himself comfortable and gazed into her momentarily sparkling eyes.

— Nadya, are you happy with me?

— Of course, darling. Why do you ask?

— I wondered on my way home… You know I’m not as good with words as you are. Do you feel fulfilled? Do you wish for anything?

— We’re been through too much to tempt fate. I don’t know, I can’t say. It’s too soon, maybe even too late. Are you still thinking about him? — she asked tenderly, looking into Sasha’s eyes, which were wet with unshed tears.

— Yes, every day. Sometimes, I can’t even find my place at work. Actually, I would love to change it, because in my profession these thoughts get even more overwhelming. I feel like I’m in a huge grave myself, but the mine ensures our survival, and helps me not think about we went through. At least, not as often. Do you want to try again, here? I feel like it’ll get only better from here onward, love. If we don’t decide now, we’ll be alone for the rest of our lives. I know you don’t want that. I’ve known you for years, of course.

— I don’t know, really… We moved here recently, and the events that occured before this are still fresh in my head — she replied, turning her face away.

— Nadya, four years have passed. We have to get over it, eventually. You can’t torment yourself like this. We should try again — he looked up at her questioningly.

— What if we fail again? Your work’s risky. I worry that I’ll lose you everyday, and that I wouldn’t be able to bear… I can’t lose you! — she burst into tears and sank back into the chair, tucking her legs under her. Sasha didn’t want to pursue the subject any further. He knew how sensitive she was. He moved closer to her silently and — without saying anything — wrapped his strong arms around her soft back.

The end of the conversation was already a thing of the past. There was no point in considering anything further. They went to bed — as they did every evening — turning their backs on each other out of habit. They planned the bedroom in the attic, which was still half unused — the raw floorboards still gave off the smell of cut pine, and the steady crunch of hungry bark beetles could be heard from time to time in the ceiling beams. Huddled on a small metal bed, two figures seemed to be waiting for the morning to come. Their love had faded, but perhaps not enough to make it impossible to turn back, to patch things up. Their arrival in this wasteland was not so much a planned decision to settle in the countryside, but a step of desperation, an escape from the troubles or tragedy they had experienced four years ago in Vladivostok. If it were not for the tragic death of their two-year-old son, this place would certainly not be their new home.

The morning brought a chill of the approaching winter frost, but the sun’s rays were still desperately breaking through the bedroom windows. Nadya was still asleep. Sasha hurriedly slipped out of bed, dressed, glancing at her still figure wrapped in the blanket up to her ears, and decided that he would surprise her today before she woke up. It will take me maybe an hour, no more — he thought, smiling to himself, full of the morning optimism.

He went down to the living room, quickly prepared some firewood and lit a fire to warm the house. He drove the van to the store to buy groceries for the day and a special meal for his wife, which he promised himself to make when he got back.

Nadya woke up about an hour later and looked around the house nervously. Knowing that Sasha had the day off today, because all the power lines at the mine had frozen last night, he should have been home. Where could he have gone? — she asked herself, looking around the table as if searching for something. She saw with irritation that he had forgotten to take his cell phone again, even though she always reminded him to take it with him whenever he went somewhere, and as usual, he had forgotten to leave a note for her. She looked out the window, looking for the car they usually parked in front of the house, which she, of course, didn’t see.

A little later, she dressed, washed, and went down to the living room. It was nice to warm herself by the blazing fire. Her gratitude to Sasha for taking care of her warmed her heart. She had loved him for over ten years. His brown eyes, his dark, unruly hair, and that dimple in his chin that appeared when he couldn’t stop laughing. It had been so long since they had laughed together. They hadn’t made love for a long time now. After the accident with little Grisha their sexuality seems to have faded away. This terrible accident has changed everything in their lives and almost led to the breakup of their relationship. It is too painful for them to live exactly as they did before. Nothing will ever be the same again. Everything looks different, even the two of them. The driver of the car that was approaching them was so drunk that he veered out of his lane at the last moment and hit them by surprise. Sasha didn’t have time to turn. Little Grisha died on the spot, wearing his seat belt. The impact was too strong. His spine was broken and they couldn’t save him. His death was violent. She wondered for a long time if he hadn’t suffered. The pain filled her to the brim as she held his motionless little hands in hers, and it still pierced her heart, bleeding with longing. She had wanted so much to die for him back then! Why him? Why not her? By some strange twist of fate, they themselves were lucky to escape with their lives, suffering only minor scratches and bruises. But for her, it was not luck to stay alive, because luck died with her son. The perpetrator of the accident, however, did not survive and there was no one to punish, judge or even hate. Will she be able to be a mother again? No child will soothe her longing for Grisha and fill this endless void.

Sasha was driving home. He had two heavy bags of groceries in the trunk. Excited to make Nadya tomato spaghetti with appetizers, the kind they had last eaten before Grisha was born, he sped up the car, eager to be right by her side. The last bonus helped them survive a lot. If it weren’t for his hard work, they wouldn’t be able to afford the last installment on the house. There is still so much to be done, repaired, and decorated. The previous owner neglected it almost entirely. There were still gutters to buy, the windows could be replaced, and the floors could be stained. It would be nice if they could use the other part of the attic, if only Nadya agreed to have another child, which was unlikely.

Driving through the marshy, boggy area near the forest he and Nadya usually watched from the attic window, he missed Grisha. He remembered holding him piggyback, rolling him around on the couch, watching every happy expression on his little face, waiting for more fun. Something stabbed him in the chest, some undefined pain, tearing at his heart in an inphysical way. Suddenly, something cracked under the car. The car had fallen into a plowed hole. It would be difficult to pull it out. I can’t get out on my own — he thought after several unsuccessful attempts to get out of the rut. He got out of the car to take a look at it. Luckily, he only got a flat tire.

Suddenly, he remembered that he hadn’t taken his cell phone. As usual, he had forgotten it. It was already noon, and he planned to be back in an hour. He wanted to surprise Nadya and cook her a meal like the one he had ordered for her to at a local restaurant when they first met. He had expected something more. He wanted to convince her to have another child, which would surely bring joy to their sad life. Despite the passing years, he still loved her so much. He desired her as much as he had before, but he was afraid of rejection. He didn’t want to hurt her. He still felt guilty for not turning the car sooner, for not defending them, for not protecting Grisha.

Suddenly he realized that he was halfway home with his car stuck in a ditch, without spare parts or a phone. The closest he had was a forester who lived nearby. All he had to do was cross the clearing, which seemed to be somewhere around here behind him. The forester’s lodge was about a fifteen-minute walk away. Surely the forester would help him.

On the way, he had time to reflect on his entire life so far. He had never chased money or a career. He was well-educated, but — as a civil engineer — he could only count on work in the center of the country. Here, he agreed to physical labor just to support himself and his wife. Any sense of meaning in life was disrupted by that damn accident. If only I had turned in time or taken a different road… — tears welled up in his eyes as the same thoughts had been nagging him persistently for several years, regardless of the time of day or night — This world is brutal. Why did we deserve this? We didn’t hurt anyone! Why did this happen to us?! The forest path was winding. Sasha wasn’t familiar with these parts and hadn’t had a chance to look around since they’d moved in. He was basically walking blindly. Someone in the village had once told him where the forester lived. After a few minutes, he fortunately noticed a small log cabin with a thatched roof. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was quite cloudy, and the trees obscuring the sky made the greyness of the day even more intense. In the forest, he should have felt the smell of trees, clear air, but instead he only felt some unpleasant stench, it was hard to say what it was from.

When he arrived, an old man wrapped in a sheepskin coat was sitting on a rocking chair on the landing in front of the door, holding a pipe in his thick, cracked hand. The forester had a gray beard and was not very tall. The stocky, short man got up from his chair and, limping on his left leg, went out to meet him. Sasha felt uncertain whether such an old man would help him pull the van out of the mud… If only he had at least a spare tire or a patch and tools, he would be fine, but he had no choice but to ask for help — It was about half an hour’s drive home.

— Good morning! My wife and I recently moved into this wooden house about half an hour’s drive from here. Unfortunately, I got a flat tire in your neighborhood because my car got stuck in a muddy rut, and I didn’t bring any tools with me. Could you help me?

— Hello, hello… — the old man replied in a drawling voice. — The young people here are never prepared for anything. You would like everything ready-made! Oh, you are nothing but trouble!

— I’m so sorry to bother you. I really don’t want to impose, but I had no choice when I thought of you. You live closest.

— All right, all right… — the forester grumbled and invited him inside. He showed Sasha a rickety chair. — Sit down. I’ll check what I have here. But tell me honestly, weren’t you afraid to walk here? And don’t talk to me like I’m an aristocrat. My name is Jorgen.

— What should I be afraid of, Jorgen? — the man asked more boldly, smiling at the corner of his mouth.

— No one comes to see me here anymore, and it’s all because of this legend. Haven’t you heard?

— No. Is there anything specific I should know?

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