Notes Of Your Friend

Dear Friend,

Once again, I find myself scribbling notes in my notebook with an unsteady hand, whether it be aboard the Moscow-Kyiv night train or on the final tram to Zelyony Lug.

You are the world as you see it, while I am merely a faint line etched onto a Kodak box that could be mistaken for a comically oversized National Library in Minsk. As time passes, photographs gain a profound significance that cannot be denied.

I would love nothing more than to share a cup of tea or coffee with you, all while listening to the sounds of the saxophone.