Pete keeps his head down, alert for large rocks and broken bottles. He kicks the dust to watch it fly out from his feet. He swerves past several lengths of rusted rebar that protrude from the troubled earth and uses them as markers to find his way back to the apartment. Above him tower several apartment buildings, the concrete dinosaurs of the Soviet past, and he finds a narrow footpath between two.
A few yards from Building 66, Entrance Number 4, he feels blood oozing down the side of his face. He touches the place where the rock hit him above the eyebrow. Let it drip, he thinks. His mother and father should see how boys here make friends…
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