Lazar remembers the first time he knew what 'revolution' meant. It's the winter of 1989, and the television is always, always on. His parents are either watching with concern, or nearby as if waiting for something to happen. Lazar's really more occupied with making snow angels, whatever angels are. Lazar thinks he's heard his mama talking about them, every time papa comes home drunk after work in the Ukrainian courts and muttering about happenings in the south. Papa's been doing that a lot, lately.
The boy down the street says the world is ending. Lazar is inclined to believe him.
People talk. Lazar listens. Unrest in Romania, they say. Food shortages. Riots in the capital. Casualties. His parents argue at night. Lazar covers his ears, doesn't want to hear.
They say the world is ending. Lazar is inclined to believe them.
One day the television stands silent. The lack of sound chills him more than the ice outside. When he turns it on, the screen displays only a coat of arms the sa