So what, Ionesco, did you turn out to be different from everyone else? Or maybe you’re not Ionesco at all, even?

Did you catch it? What does that smell remind you of, in your opinion? This rose smells of lemons, Spain, and death. She turned around and walked off back to her bench, as though to say, what’s the difference what it smells like?

Knives … I wasn’t prepared for that. To be perfectly frank, I’m scared. My romantic notions of this trip have proven illusory: there is nothing less romantic than the Far North today.

A story by satirical Russian writer Teffi, who at one time was the country's most famous female author.