Eduard, Sasha, and I Go to the Black Sea

Abstract

During the coffee break I tell Eduard that one of the bigwigs from his lab creeps me out. To him this is no surprise. He asks if I have gone swimming in the Black Sea. No. Not yet. I plan to go this afternoon, when most of the conference participants are on an excursion to a botanical garden. He decides I need an escort. Eduard is older than my mother, born in 1935. I have known him for over twenty years. Yesterday my children chided me for not including Eduard in our skype session. Today he and I sit outside the conference center, on the floor of a stone balcony, where the wireless is decent. On my little netbook each of our faces, Eduard’s and mine, are cut in half. The kids streak around in the other screen of my netbook, leaving contrails. [excerpt