The White Guard
From the album “Illustrations by Andrey Nikolaev”
In silence, they returned to the dining room. The guitar was grimly silent. Nikolka dragged the samovar from the kitchen, and it sang ominously and sputtered. On the table were cups with delicate flowers on the outside and gold on the inside, special ones, shaped like figured columns. When their mother, Anna Vladimirovna, was alive, this was the festive service for the family, but now the children used it every day.