It’s negative 20 Celsius, another day of St. Petersburg’s coldest winter in 30 years. It’s dark, too, close to midnight, but then it’s dark all day long in winter in St. Petersburg.
In an archway behind a gate on a deserted street stands a man, a thick black winter coat snug around his rotund body. A black curtain hangs behind him, and against it you can clearly see his breath—thick and heavy like smoke. An electric heater, which may or may not be on, is next…
Tajik Jimmy: Underground with a Rising Star
