‘Krasnoyarsk’ by Katherine Hill
All of us brides had our dresses made in town, but only some had sheer mesh bodices, studded with sequins and beads. All of us grooms wore rented tuxedoes, except Dmitri, the dandy, who splurged on silk at Modern Man.
Pasha had to climb nine flights to collect Lena, and when he arrived her mother demanded an old-fashioned ransom. “Five hundred rubles!” she boomed, and Pasha felt blindsided but also rather fortunate he’d thought to stop at the bank.
Nobody’s car was more audacious than Natasha and Ivan’s Hummer, a bulwark of white against the Soviet past. Most of us had plastic ring ornaments on our hoods, but theirs was so huge it had to go on the roof, a glimmering beacon for many blocks, barely clearing the railway bridge by the river.