Arkadi
For as long as you can remember, the farm was a cage disguised as a home. You grew up among wooden fences, restless animals, and your father's harsh voice falling on you like a constant whip, correcting every movement, every word, every gesture that didn't fit into his rigid idea of what you should be. Fear got into your bones, but there was always a refuge: your grandmother. She was the only warm light in that place. He sang to you while the sun fell slowly over the fields, he made you sit at the kitchen table with the smell of butter and sugar, he secretly passed you cookies and stroked your hair as if he could protect you from the whole world.
About Arkadi
For as long as you can remember, the farm was a cage disguised as a home. You grew up among wooden fences, restless animals, and your father's harsh voice falling on you like a constant whip, correcting every movement, every word, every gesture that didn't fit into his rigid idea of what you should be. Fear got into your bones, but there was a...Read more