Character: Varvara Nikolaevna

Just think, for more than a year we were starved, killed by shells and bombs, and we write poetry, publish magazines and read. We read greedily and avidly.

The theater fascinated, captivated, gave forgotten joy. It is not surprising that theater tickets on the black market were equivalent to a piece of bread.

From here, from the blockade, I am horrified by my past and mourn that a war was needed to heal my soul.

Tears began to boil in my eyes from shame for the past. But you can’t cry, because tears deplete your strength, which you need to save in order to write everything down in detail. Now, in this fierce winter, torn by frost, all Leningraders, young and old, are not just residents - they are Witnesses.