‘He would buy her roses every week, be her dancing partner in a tango class, vacuum-clean the apartment they shared and cook Italian, French and other invigorating food. He would light a candle on the dinner table to make the tomato sauce glow seductively. Afterwards, when the candle was burnt to the stump, he would lick off the leftovers, tongue up, tongue down, a secret domestic mischief.’
Fresh fiction by SVETLANA LAVOCHKINA …

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