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With Humanity, From Russia

On warning, waiting, and wanting in 2015.

By Ry WittPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
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I broke through the door of a dimly lit bar and onto the cobblestones of a street I'd seen twice before; once approaching, once ruminating, and now leaving. I didn't know it then, but this was the end of a lifetime and its beginning anew.

Turning right, my worn boots smacked the misaligned, unleveled bricks paving my way, and still I averted my eyes as I reached to my back pocket and pulled out a map of St. Petersburg, Russia, to ensure I was headed in the right direction toward the hostel hosting me for the weekend. I traced my finger along the not-quite-paper, aligned my person with the illustrated channels and roadways to my place in the world, and continued down the path that would set me straight. "Fucking asshole," I muttered, tucking the map away and turning my face towards the sun.

It was just past 4 in the morning and I had remembered Andrew, my travel companion, who I’d stepped away from; into the gas-lit roadways bordering the Neva that had first brought me to a restaurant, this road, and a bar I decided he should not be privy to should he continue to pursue childish antics, adultery, and antagonism. The sunlight warmed me, despite myself. Had he been in that bar, he would have told me to bed the girl dressed in punk-pop attire; all-black jacket, beanie, jeans with a dark green band t-shirt and body odor. Had he been in that bar, he would have ordered shots with the two locals I had traded vodka with as I kissed the girl with an exposed, tattooed neckline in stockings, and he would have said to bed her, too.

I shivered and staggered forward, reeling my head back as I hiccupped, and scanned the Easter pastel-colored buildings with my eyes, reaching toward each black lamppost to set me straight, dragging my hand across them as I passed. I remembered the men, about my age, I met inside the bar who, through broken-English, insisted on buying me vodka; who I counter-offered to buy vodka for as their guest; and savored the first puff of a cigarette I'd ever smoked, the smoothest vodka in all the world, and the one's sheer curiosity on how I could ever wind up in a place like this still on my mind. The girl I kissed and who got away, the girl who hung over me and I assayed, the strangers turned friends and the friend turned stranger all weighed heavily on my legs, commiserating with the miles I had walked over the span of two days.

Sighing, slouching, I crossed the threshold of a bridge. The shimmering water leading to the Baltic twinkled with the stars in my eyes until I thought of the blood it’s met. Russia was, and forever will be, a conquest; and, after all, conquests are borne of conflict.

I noticed all too late a man approaching me, muttering through the ringing in my ears with his palm facing the sky. I knew immediately he wanted money, his skin mired with grime and his clothes with holes, and I pulled out my wallet to show him I had none. "干杯," he said to me, and, "На здоровье," I replied back, toasting each other with a cheers that hoped to see our fortunes turn. We embraced in a hug, unencumbered as the light glittering the current.

Mine had in that very moment, holding a stranger, thousands of miles from home. All I had was to give, and to know those cobblestones on that brisk morning was to know that no giving could ever fill the hole of wanting. To give what we have despite those who would take without giving back and to give without wanting might connect us all, humanity, eternal, forever as the horizon is away.

humanity
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About the Creator

Ry Witt

Master of Fine Arts, Content Creator, and World Traveler

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