(no subject)

[theweaselking]

crisper produces microfiction:

When I asked him if he had any regrets, he said no, there was no point. This sounded appropriately Russian, but I found it hard to believe there wasn't anything he would change if he could go back. He said it doesn't matter if you go back, because it makes no difference. And then he told me about a mission the Soviet Army put him on in 1956, when he was twenty-two. They were bundled into a windowless truck and driven for a while and when they unloaded eventually, they were in a desert. Specifically, he said, they were outside the city of Jerusalem.

In 32 AD.