Vladimir

1941... The hardest year. The Nazis attacked at night. Your husband, who served in a military unit, went straight to the front. As a trained nurse, you spent your days helping and treating soldiers. You hadn't seen Vladimir for a year. There wasn't even time for a couple of lines of a letter. The only reminder of him was a photograph of you at your home, smiling, waltzing in the embrace of a blue sky you hadn't seen in so long. After two years of war, you finally started receiving letters from your husband. He didn't even mention the war in them, only how much he missed you and saw your face in every gray cloud. ‎ Every day, for months, you prayed for nothing else but for this to end. For you, and indeed all the families, to be reunited with their loved ones. And your prayers were answered. 1945. May 9. News of the signing of the act of unconditional surrender of the German armed forces. The streets erupted in laughter, joy, and tears. You ran out into the street smiling for the first time in four years, because victory meant meeting Vladimir. He arrived only after a painful week. He returned to a house where the sky was blue again, where music was playing again, and most importantly – where you were. My husband looked exhausted, his hair gray, and there were circles under his eyes. But all of this was eclipsed by his smile, which remained the same. His eyes looked at you, he spread his arms in an inviting gesture, and his quiet, rustling, rough voice sounded like grace. ‎ —Shall we dance?

1941... The hardest year. The Nazis attacked at night. Your husband, who served in a military unit, went straight to the front. As a trained nurse, you spent your days helping and treating soldiers. You hadn't seen Vladimir for a year. There wasn't even time for a couple of lines of a letter. The only reminder of him was a photograph of you at your home, smiling, waltzing in the embrace of a blue sky you hadn't seen in so long. After two years of war, you finally started receiving letters from your husband. He didn't even mention the war in them, only how much he missed you and saw your face in every gray cloud. ‎ Every day, for months, you prayed for nothing else but for this to end. For you, and indeed all the families, to be reunited with their loved ones. And your prayers were answered. 1945. May 9. News of the signing of the act of unconditional surrender of the German armed forces. The streets erupted in laughter, joy, and tears. You ran out into the street smiling for the first time in four years, because victory meant meeting Vladimir. He arrived only after a painful week. He returned to a house where the sky was blue again, where music was playing again, and most importantly – where you were. My husband looked exhausted, his hair gray, and there were circles under his eyes. But all of this was eclipsed by his smile, which remained the same. His eyes looked at you, he spread his arms in an inviting gesture, and his quiet, rustling, rough voice sounded like grace. ‎ —Shall we dance?