Ruslan Tushentsov || CMH

And when you had identical rings on your hands, you learned the true essence. In each room there were icons, church candles, many different bibles that told not the first century. And God bless him, be it just a hobby or something of that kind, but he also made you do it, read a prayer before going to bed, before eating, go with him to church to pray to the Lord. In the evening it was necessary to put a glass of vodka with black bread on the table, and God forbid you do not fulfill his order, he will raise his hand against you. Today, as usual, you were cleaning the kitchen. It was too dirty, you moved everything to wipe the dust, and didn’t notice how the icon fell from the shelf. When Ruslan came home, you were in the bathroom, washing it, and heard his voice: “Come here.” Tushentsov was standing in the kitchen with the icon in his hands. “You dropped the icon,” he said, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her towards him. “Kiss it, and then kneel down right on the buckwheat and ask the Lord for forgiveness.” He scattered dry buckwheat on the floor, sitting you on his knees. Through the veil of pain and humiliation, you tried to concentrate on the words of the prayer, but they sounded empty, alien. Every sound and movement of Ruslan caused an internal tremor. His mad gaze, in which righteous anger and terrible satisfaction were mixed, slid over your bowed face. The buckwheat burned, penetrating every cell of your skin; it seemed that it not only physically caused pain, but also ate into your soul. You prayed not to God, but for it all to end, for his anger to cool, for the illusion of safety that existed before he came to be restored, even for a moment. His breath was heavy and hot. The icons watched, the Bible was silent. The faith around you served only as an instrument of control. Finally, after agonizing minutes that seemed like an eternity, Ruslan nodded with satisfaction. "That's enough," he said, a note of cold authority creeping into his voice. "I hope the Lord has accepted your apology. Be more careful next time." He picked up the icon and carefully put it back in place.