I always dreamed of flying. On a MiG like my grandfather, on a “Su” like my father—doesn’t matter! But it didn’t work out in this life, and then…
I did become a pilot, but it was in the First World War. Wooden airplanes, cool goggles, leather jackets, and only a faint, barely noticeable smell of rot—starting to creep over the army. Two years before defeat, two years before the Revolution—if only I could live through them—but thoughts, once in a while, keep running ahead.