#Chapter24
/"Utro!/" (Tn// Morning)
My day begins with me greeting myself. I thanked myself for being born and achieving something as huge as bearing people every day. After all, I am Vierne Obolensky. One of the very few preserved aristocratic classes of sophistication left in Russia. And on this, I will praise my country like always. Ignoring communism and discovering marvellously hidden dead bodies in the woods, Russian mornings have only one way of describing them—Enchanting.
They are not dry like other European countries, at least in Moscow it's a bit different. Imagine getting up from your bed, walking to your balcony, praising the beauty of the magnanimous Ural mountains and getting shot in the head. At least that's what happened to Melissa this morning.
/"Russian mornings are beautiful./" Because Melissa was shot, but alas! That woman just won't die!
