When Irina had been seven years old, all she had longed for had been a red scarf and a beret. "When can I have one, mama, when can I?"
"When you're older, Ira."
Older, and in uniform - red scarf, beret and sickle badge - Irina had longed for an interview. "I understand that it is not an open position, comrade, but I want to serve my country. I am old enough. I can do this."
The KGB officer - short cropped hair, severe green uniform and squinty eyes - looked her over carefully. "Well. Maybe you'll do."
Older, and out of uniform - long hair, long skirt and floaty blouse - Irina had longed for -
"Mom! Mom! Look at them! When can I join, mom, when can I?"
"When you're older, Ira."
Older, and in uniform - red scarf, beret and sickle badge - Irina had longed for an interview. "I understand that it is not an open position, comrade, but I want to serve my country. I am old enough. I can do this."
The KGB officer - short cropped hair, severe green uniform and squinty eyes - looked her over carefully. "Well. Maybe you'll do."
Older, and out of uniform - long hair, long skirt and floaty blouse - Irina had longed for -
"Mom! Mom! Look at them! When can I join, mom, when can I?"
The Girl Scout troupe - scarves, badges, berets - finished filing past. Irina petted her daughter's hair. "When you're older, Sydney."
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