“Gone Are the Blackberries, the Alycha, the Asters, and the Rusty Spigot” by Yekaterina Droog - The Cincinnati Review
I remember the summer after Chernobyl for its fertility and vibrant colors. Whether it was due to the high levels of radiation blown toward the Crimean Peninsula by the northern winds, as my family speculated later, or to my grandfather’s tireless efforts to turn a cleared patch of clay into a kitchen-garden, that year our| The Cincinnati Review - Publishing great literature and art since 2003
