Anna Nemtsova

02/13/2014 - 3:29pm

    The morning sun painted the ceiling of our grape gazebo in gentle shades of green. I remember it well. On sunny days, the contours of the cypress trees stood out starkly, as if drawn along the coast: they formed a live fence stretching along the five-kilometer footpath at the bottom of the hill, seaside Sochi's equivalent of a Jersey boardwalk. I liked to...

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