Tanya – no longer a girl, she was now known as Tatyana Kuzminichna – consulted her watch. "I have just enough time before the film to go to the store and pick up the veterans' parcel." Like all those who had served in the war, she would receive this package in the section of the store closed to ordinary mortals. People would watch the line of veterans there and quietly grumble.

This time it was a real holiday parcel: four hundred grams of ham, two chickens, a can of sprats, and a kilo of buckwheat flour. Tatyana Kuzminichna paid, loaded it all into her bag and started for the door. One of the veterans called out to her.

"Hi there, Kuzminichna. Is it a good one, today's parcel?"

"Yes, not bad. But there's no butter."

"There's butter to be had across the road today, at the Gastronom. But there's a line a mile long!"

Tatyana went over to the Gastronom store, saw a motley, winding line, looked at the time. The film was due to start in fifteen minutes. "Why not try to avoid standing in line?" she thought. "After all, it's my right."

She took her veteran s pass out of her bag and began to push her way toward the cashier.

The tail end of the line swarmed out into the street and inside the store everything was dark with people. They pressed against one another, beating a path toward the counter. They shouted, they hurled insults at one another. The ones who had already made their purchases were weaving their way toward the exit, their eyes shining feverishly

"How many packs per person?" the people at the end of the line called out from the street.

"Two each," replied the people in the middle.

"Give me six," whined a woman close to the counter. "I'll take my children's as well."

"So where are they, your children?" asked the exasperated salesclerk.

"Well, here she is, this little girl!" exclaimed the woman, tugging at the hand of a frightened schoolgirl with a satchel.