Surprisingly, the earliest memory I have of my mother is not of the beatings, the screaming and the abuse, but of her sitting on a chair with her legs...crossed and her hands in her lap in the backyard.I remember her red hair falling over her shoulders, her deep blue eyes looking at me and her nose ring and gold anklets shining in the sun."Do you miss Russia?" I asked her sitting opposite her."Yes, a lot," she said adjusting her gray, knee-length pleated skirt."Any relatives still there?" There. 7am. most of the shops don't open until 9. might as well get started to the day. you slide out of bed, letting your nightie slip off your shoulders and fall to your feet. his instructions were explicit: get prepared for the day remaining fully nude and the curtains drawn back. So you walk out to the kitchen and get the coffee going, open the front door and walk to the end of the hall to get the paper. Your heart races as you open the front door. your eyes dart back and forth, your. More

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