Editorial Board

done, Tatyana leaned against the wall of the house, beneath her own window, and kicked the wooden platform.
“I’m glad that is done. It is tiring,” she said.
“You are good at it. Not queasy at all. You should become a surgeon,” said Roman. “But you do know we have one more pig to cut, right?”
“Another one? Don’t you want to eat first?” She looked up to see him better. He was tall. He had the complacent good looks of a Russian
simpleton, the kind one reads about in fairy tales. “I’m hungry. We can take on the other fellow afterwards.”
“Sure, let’s do that,” replied Roman, and Tanya got the feeling he would be glad to do anything she asked.
They filed into the kitchen, taking off their muddy and bloody shoes, and washed their hands at the sink. Tatyana motioned for Roman to take off his jacket and
sit down at the table while she herself went to the stove and ladled hot borscht out of a steaming pot. Her mom had been busy. She’d made borscht out of the pig already.
“Your mother is a great cook,” said Roman.
“She may be a great cook, but she’s a spoilsport!” Tatyana said. “She almost didn’t let me help!”
“Come on, Tanya. You know she wants the best for you. I wish my mom were here too. Why are you being so mean to her?”
Tanya was immediately contrite. She placed a bowl of the soup she had been ladling for herself into his hands. He accepted the steaming borscht and
placed it on the table. “I am sorry, I forgot you haven’t seen your parents for a long time.” She was really repentant now. Roman was an international student.
His visa had expired three months ago, but he had still not returned home to Ukraine, and if her guess was correct, he probably never would. Tatyana
sympathized with him for his eagerness to work and respected his decision to remain an illegal in the US rather than return to the mother country. She
could never have the courage to do that, even though she understood that in some ways remaining an illegal and trying to appeal for legal residency in
America was better than acquiring a higher education in Ukraine. His chances were better here. Yes, she definitely would say yes to him today.
“Ah, anyway, it doesn’t matter,” Roman suddenly said, interrupting her dazed reverie. “I am not looking forward to the next pig. I don’t want to kill it. I don’t suppose
you do either. Cutting into pieces is fine, but actually killing the stupid things...” he shuddered. “Do you know why your parents are cutting them?”
“I know what you mean about the killing part. I wouldn’t do it for the world. But I think Dad wants to put on a big