The First Inmate
Days followed one another. Overloaded with the events I am not ready to describe yet. The only stable thing for me was the temporary detention facility. Each morning FSB workers came for me. There was an order to stand next to the wall, and I did stand up fast. The door opened and I continued fulfilling further orders. Go out. Turn right. Some fifteen steps. Turn left. And here it is — the familiar reception desk. The security guards searched me, and then cuffed my wrists and put on a bag on the head. I was taken outside to the car. The sounds of the boot opening. Pushes into the back. I lay down inside. The lid of that coffin closed and I was taken away... every evening finished in the same way for me — by coming back to the detention facility. I do not know what time it
