Possibly my favorite place in the world
Казанский собор / Kazan Cathedral, St. Petersburg
Last night I went to sleep thinking about St. Petersburg and all the tiny details that haunt my memory. There was the beggar lady who always stood on the Kazanskaya Street side of this cathedral, and she always called me "Daughter." I gave her what change I had with me, and on Yom Kippur I gave her a few hundred rubles. Now I miss her.
There were the skaters that I saw at midnight on the Bridge of 18 Testicles.
The half-tailed stray cat who lived in my apartment building, whom I nicknamed "Кот" (Cat). He was dirty but friendly.
The street musicians in the Nevsky Prospekt underpass who called passersby "Барышня" and "Господин" (Countess and Your Honor).
I hated so much of it. And it won't let me be. It's like there's a tiny version of St. Petersburg lodged in my brain, and it won't come loose. And now, bit by bit, I'm coming to miss it.