That hard-covered odyssey was dropped as brick against the twin's bedspread. It did not have a title; it was beaten and hackneyed, read over a thousand times until the paper yellowed. It was beautiful.

"What is this, Andrei?"

"It's a book."

"Why did you bring me this?"

"Because I love you. You're my brother."

"We don't have to steal things any longer. Have you seen our father's library?"

"No." The elder sat next to the bare younger. "Why didn't you come to the meeting, Dmitri? You never told me the reason."

"I was exhausted."

"Well, we didn't do much of anything anyway." Andrei laced those fingers about his thighs. "Those assholes gave me a hard time for having a nice coat. I knew I shouldn't have accepted it."

"Don't say that. I'm sure most anyone would take it. You needed another one. I was beginning to worry you would get frost bite or something."

"You needed a new coat more than I did."

Dmitri simply gave a soft glance to his sibling, lips curling in a kind of sweetness. "You're a good brother, Andrei."

"You're damn right." The smile, the same twist that seemed so wrong. Andrei only allowed odd grins, those lips always crooked; teeth always too bright.

"Are you feeling better? I haven't seen you smile like that for weeks."

"A little. I'm still off. How about you?"

"I'm…Healing. I haven't been sleeping well. It's odd to have my own room. And it's odd to have my own room without you in. It's too quiet without your snoring."

"Hey. If I snore, you have to snore too."

"Where's your proof?"

"We're identical twins."

"That's not proof."

"Yes it is. Look. We're the same."

"We're not the same. Not exactly."

"Sure we are, Dmitri. If I snore, you snore. If I live in a mansion, you live in a mansion. If I work in a soap factory, you work in a soap factory. We've got the same components all the way down to the veins."

"You're still the insane one."

"Да. I am the insane one. But that's alright."

"I like you better insane. If we were really the same, I'd probably get us confused. Which one am I?"

"You're the nice one."

"I'm not nice."

"Shut up. You're the nice one. It's been predetermined. And if you don't believe me, I'll stab you." That nose touched to the brother's cheek. A whisper. "Because I'm insane."

Dmitri laughed. "What are you doing? You're so strange." A palm pushed the other away. "But I'm glad to see you strange. You're doing better when you act this way."

Again, joy positioned wrongly.

Then the comfortable silence.

"Dmitri, I think we should go visit our mother's grave."

"I'm not quite sure I'm ready for that."

"It doesn't matter if you're ready or not. We have to."

"I know we do, Andrei." Those brows drooped as exhausted flowers against summer heat. "But if I go back there, I'm going to cry until I throw up. And that shack…" Dmitri's lip was secured by uncertain teeth. "I never want to look at that place again as long as I live. If I could, I'd burn it to the ground. It was horrible there…"

"I know, Dmitri. But we need to go back sometime. And we actually have today off."

"Well, you can go. You're tougher than I am."

"I don't want to go alone."

"I'm sorry, Andrei."

The elder sibling fell against those thickened sheets, an exasperated sigh temporarily in his throat. "Alright, then. But you know how impatient I am."

"Thank you. If you like, you can bring someone else with you. But I can't go yet. I'm too heart-broken to see her again." Suddenly, the gentle brother carried that sorrow within his eyes.

And Andrei rose and embraced the other portion of his soul.

"It's alright. It's hard. I know."

Dmitri allowed steady breath from his lungs, a deluge of frustration coming with carbon dioxide "I wish it wasn't. It seems like every day is harder than the last. Accepting the whole truth is like trying to swallow a dagger. My mouth gets bloodied before I can even ingest the damn thing."

"You can always change reality, Dmitri. That way you never have to chop up your tongue."

"We can't bring her back."

"No. But we can improve our lives. Change is coming. I can feel it in my bones. Even the snow will be red."

"The snow was red beforehand. It's been red. Everyone in Russia might as well have the plague; the workers anyway. They're dropping like flies."

"We're dropping like flies."

"Yes. We are…We're lucky we found our father. We would have been next." Dented lines, as though the entire weight of all Russia's troubles were weighed upon Dmitri's brows. "I've been putting on weight."

"I've noticed."

"What about you?"

"No. Not really…I don't have enough time for eating."

"Andrei, don't starve yourself if you don't have to."

"I'm not starving…Actually, that Ellis girl fed me a few days ago."

"She did? What did she give you?"

"Apple strudel. Best desert I've ever eaten." For a moment, Andrei fumbled with his pocket, retrieving a cigarette and a match. That stick was put to flame, and the ember was allowed to the tobacco. A forest set to flame all in a domino effect.

"Do you really have to smoke in my room? You light the damn thing like you just finished having sex. How do you feel about her anyway?"

"I don't know yet…But from first impression I like her. She's bossy and persistent. Yet, somehow nice at the same time. It's hard to wrap your mind around her. I always feel like I'm missing something after she leaves. Like I read something wrong."

"You're going to fall in love with her." Dmitri stole a cigarette from that crimson palm. "I bet your babies will be cute. Hopefully they won't follow me around thinking that I'm you."

A smack to the chest. "I don't need babies. You'll get married before I do."

A laugh. "I probably will. But then again, I don't meet many girls. Do you think Ellis likes you?"

Andrei developed a flavor for that inquiry, recalling those few events divided between that strange German-speaking woman and himself. "Yes. I think so."

Tranquility.

"Why don't you let me show you to the library?"

"Certainly."

So the twins went to the library.

When Andrei laid his eyes all of books, those ancient pages bound in dust and knowledge, his crux burst with an inexplicable notion. How many books does man needs? However, the collection was still in magnificent condition. He wanted to read every single one of them, show those leaves to his mother and say, "Look! I read all of this! Aren't you proud?" He wanted to grant her such recorded intelligence and passion, but he could not.

Suddenly, conscious screamed. Andrei did not need to steal from the library.

He became sick.

"Isn't it amazing? I was in here a few days ago and there's everything upon those shelves."

"I don't doubt that."

"Go look…"

So that red handed worked allowed those stained pads to the spines of those fine novels, stroking their flesh with a kind of veneration. Prints affected the golden lettering, the broken backs, the gorgeous manila pages with sallow years, the words, the love, the music, the lives, the muses.

Then he collected a few of those tales within his arms, cradling them as though they could breath.

Then flowed the happiness, blood within his veins.

That once disjointed canvas holding only crimson illuminated.

And Dmitri held flame as well, happy that his brother was happy.

They spent the day together, sealing those lesions and allowing the past to finally be the past. If only momentarily.