Andy Nechaevsky
silent night, almost no bombs
from Facebook:
The Russians, they like to launch their rockets at night, so we wake up in the darkness to the sound of wailing sirens, with trains on the railroad tracks howling back at them. The neighbors upstairs start shuffling around their apartment, doors slam throughout the building, and we quietly crawl to the hallway - our shelter, on account of it having no windows and the sturdiest ceiling and walls.
We grab pillows, phones, a bit of water, a nightlight - a cheap plastic moon - and a kalimba. If you play the kalimba, it makes things cozier. The outside noises don’t seem so bad. Not even the explosions.
We lie there in the hallway, suspended somewhere between fading dreams and this blurry reality, telling each other the stories of our lives. We listen intently while trying not to hear, lying to one another, saying, "There’s nothing to worry about, it’s just thunder (or a plane, or a door, or maybe the wardrobe fell over)." We comfort each other. These nights have become our ritual. I almost look forward to them now. Preferably with some rain, please.
An album of kalimba music came out of this - I'd simply send Dinka off to sleep after the air raid sirens stopped, then go to my studio to record yet another not-so-jolly lullaby.