Kniaz Suvurov, the warrior-monk of ancient Muscovy, gazed West, as if his very stare would whither the invader. Soviet iconography settled like a dust...over ancient Russia, she thought, and lay uneasily upon its History.Through the bedroom she could hear the muffled sounds of Jana and John reacquainting. She smiled to herself and took a final sip of her wine.Opening the door to the bedroom Benin stood still in surprise. There on the bed lay John and Jana wearing nothing but smiles. They were. After seemingly hours of pulling, and bleaching and dyeing, they wrapped a towel around my head. Then they turned their attentions to my nails, to what I could only assume was them gluing fake nails on each one of my toes and fingers. Next they dragged me up and took me into the back room, where there were no mirrors. Only here did they unblind me. They told me to look straight ahead, and hold still. They quickly put on thick and long eyelash extensions on each of one my lashes. I had always. More

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