Chapter 9
This room could equally be a school classroom or an accountant’s office, but, to my surprise, the militia questioned the detainees here. The people who soon passed through the low doors did not work in this department because they seemed confused, looking for extra chairs. Having seated themselves, they stared at me for a while, peering into my eyes, trying to see a bluff or an outright lie. I liked this game. One of the men, tall and blond, rose up and left the room just as silently as he came in. I and the other one, serious and bald, remained silent. The blond man returned with three mugs of hot coffee. One was for me.
“Would you be so kind as to look for some milk for the coffee? Because milk in Pripyat had turned even before May ’86”. Oh, I was so polite and so confident t
