if my name were Zoya

When I woke up extra early this morning, I laid in the half light and waited. I listened to the storm, the coffee bean grinder whirring, the sounds of other people in the building moving about. I'd like to stay home today, to enjoy the just the sound of the water and the small thunder. The view from the balcony is grey and green. I like spring time.

Last night I watched a sincerely cracked out Russian film. I'm not entirely sure why it was controversial, except for some bizarre nods to old Soviet culture and the ending shot where prisoners were being conscripted to send to Chechnya.