You can learn a surprising amount about the world from the center of the universe.
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It was almost a year since Kang had entrusted me with his manuscript that I read the second paragraph.
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The miraculous, disastrous path to Table 10 begins just south of the Soviet border, nine-thousand clicks from Fairfax.
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Gleb said the first night — with Wendy, Dave and the band and drop-ins and Sonia’s lasagna in the back room — was the best of his trip.
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Dave works graveyard at the burglar alarm company.
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In the last days of the Korean War, when he was 19, Mr. Kang was conscripted into the North Korean army and sent to the front without a gun.
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Six thousand miles from our town of 7,000, Gleb Lisichkin packs a small bag. He doesn’t need much, beyond the occasional change of rock t-shirts.
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