IN THE SLEEPING LAND
"Of the three interrogators, I liked the fat one. He smiled when he brought me the apple that he stole from the kitchen. I figured that he was compassionate or interested. Or perhaps both.
The one with his beret on too tight was yelling again. I couldn’t tell whether he was speaking in Russian or Ukrainian; I was more occupied with the smell of the room, its faint odor of cat piss and wallpaper. It reminded me of my grandmother, and somehow, wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
Seeing that he had completed his inquest, I stood up straight, adjusted my underwear flap for decency, and began explaining, not for the last time, why I was traveling without documentation and had been photographing military installations."
Published by Roads & Kingdoms, and Condé Nast Traveler