by Zam Abassanova

When I woke up, the window was wide open. The polyester curtain was waving in a silky fashion. I could hear not one, but two roosters catching up over a morning stroll. They must have had quite a night to "talk" this long. A smoke coming from outside tickled my nose. "aw, samovar", I told myself in delight. "Are they making a samovar tea? for me? for an esteemed enemy?" assumed my hosts were making tea