The Slink in Minsk

Minsk, Belarus (4 years ago)…

Ice cold. February. You had to rub the condensation from the bus window. Dark coats. People. Morning rush to work and school. Heads down. No greetings.

Nika had her long blonde hair in a braid. Down her back. And a faded violet scarf around her neck and in her coat. Hands dug deep into woollen pockets.

She was on her way to the shop. Worked for her uncle. Carpentry. A furniture store. Damn boring shit…

But one had to make a living.

Her blue nail polish chipped again. So annoying…

Nika sat at the counter. Her uncle was sleeping after a boozy night — better that way — instead of groping her.

She sighed. This was her life… Could have been worse…

“You look like a widow from an old soviet film…” Alina said.

“Wha? Where did you come from Alina?” Nika said.

“I am silent like a slink…” she said.

Alina was a local paper girl. Came to investigate little stories for an independent newspaper. People were always worried about her.

“What do you want from me, Slink?” Nika said.

“Maybe you can give me the real low down on the furniture business?” Alina said.

“Oh really? You want to know about the furniture business?” Nika said — this was the biggest lie ever. Nobody cared about ratty chairs and tables.

“Erm… More so about the girl who sells furniture…” Alina blushed.

And that is how it began.