The lid of the coffin opened; Father, frozen already, almost fell out into the snow.
The coffin was snug, and it held onto the dead man. But in that fleeting second when the coffin was set on its side, the image was terrible — Father’s dead profile, the little icon fallen off his chest into the snow, his motionless white hands showing from under the blanket… Sasha and Bezletov quickly set the coffin upright and closed the lid.
Mother stood there, looking thunderstruck.
“Mum, did it land on your foot?” Sasha said, trying to secure the lid.
Mother shook her head: No.
They stood for a moment.
“We need to get it off the road. To let him go,” Sasha said.
They pushed the coffin to the roadside — it sank into the snow.
Mother collected her bag.
Sasha waited ten seconds and kicked the sid
