A dying man in his forties recalls his childhood, his mother, the war and personal moments that tell of and juxtapose pivotal moments in Soviet history with daily life.
A first-grader dreams to perform with his cat in the circus.
The black room. Enclosed space. The action unfolds as if slowly. You understand that every word, every gesture of the heroes have a special, secret, as yet absolutely incomprehensible meaning. But you feel: you can't miss a single nuance. There are two or three heroes in each novel. There is a real drama between them, which ends with an explosion. Sometimes figuratively, and sometimes literally. Time is continuous: there is no yesterday and tomorrow.
