Lord, Lord! What have we not suffered! The commissioner came, the papers were signed, threw them to us and again shouted: "Today get out of the city, and there is swearing."

They took the papers, all three of them were sent to the village of Korsun. They began to look for a cart. We asked where Korsun was, they said, twenty versts from the district center. We ran around, searched, and only by the middle of the day we found a carter with two boxes on the cart. He charged us an unthinkable price, something like thirty rubles. There is no way out, we agreed. The driver was drunk, cursed all the way, tried to pester Yulia, then Sonya, called me sick and waved his hand disdainfully. Two or three times the cart overturned into the mud, the cart and boxes were lifted, the fallen things and the completely limp driver were collected. With incredible difficulty, we drove about ten versts and spent the night in some village. In the morning we set off, but Yulia's bundle with clothes was missing, we searched for a long time, did not find it and drove on. We drove out, the driver was gloomy and sober, but on the way he got drunk again, apparently imperceptibly drank. At one of the turns, the cart overturned, and Yulin's bundle of clothes turned out to be diligently buried on the cart under the hay.

By the evening of the second day we reached our Korsun. We poked at one house, the owners did not let us in the second, the third. The driver threw off our belongings and drove away. It was drizzling, the dogs were barking heavily and thickly, and darkness was all around. We were tired, wet, hungry and crying from complete uncertainty. I could not pray at that moment. Yulia did not lose her presence of mind and, I remember, said to us: Girls, you stand here and pray to St. Nicholas, and I will go around the village, maybe someone will let me in.

Thirty minutes later, Yulia came and said that she had found a place to spend the night with an old woman.

A large hut. A huge Russian stove, benches on the walls, a table nailed to the floor, a dark board of icons in the corner. It is cold in the hut, but the stove is hot. They undressed, climbed onto the stove, lay down and lay awake all night. During the night, things dried up, we warmed up and perked up.

The grandmother was tall, bony and unusually angry towards us, exiles.

They caught up with you here, you bastards, she told us, and that's all gone. Tell me, girl, where did the kerosene go?" There is no sugar, no salt. It brought you.

In the morning they found out that my bundle with a dress was missing, of course, it was stolen by a carter. The grandmother broke the price for housing, as well as the carter for the cart, high. We ate what we had with us, changed our clothes and went to the village council to mark our arrival.

The village council was located in a large five-wall building. The room was littered and spat to the limit. The chairman, a tall red-haired man, frowned at us, took the documents, wrote down the names in the book and said: "I will not allow you to live in Korsun, go to Yershi, and only three versts. On Monday and Thursday to come to me or to Mikhalev. Policeman Mikhalev will come. You are not allowed to go anywhere. Don't embarrass the people, don't stir up campaigning, I want everything to be quiet, otherwise I'll send a short conversation to the district center there. I have to answer for you.

I timidly asked where I could buy food. The chairman laughed and said angrily: the Soviet government must not feed its enemies, it is not obliged to. That was the end of our conversation.

We came to the grandmother and saw: only girls and women had gathered in the hut and laid out our things on the benches, looking at them, trying them on, laughing. Our bras and lace combinations seemed especially funny to them, all they could hear was: Shame!

We barely collected the scattered things and went to Ruff to the accompaniment of friendly laughter. They could not take everything, they left books and heavy baskets. We loaded ourselves to the limit. Three versts turned out to be five. It was drizzling, our feet were sinking in the mud, we drove apart, exhausted, and reached it.

We rented a hut from a lonely grandmother Lyaxandra. The grandmother was small, lean, agile. Large blue faded eyes looked at people benevolently and affably. The grandmother lived badly, the sons went to the city and did not appear in the village, busy with their own affairs, the daughters got married and forgot their mother, no one sent money, and she while away her life alone, eating what the garden provided.

She met us well and was even glad. We knew the village news the next morning, but it did not please us. There were no exiles in the village, and those who did died of hunger in winter, it was impossible to find work, the chairman of the village council was an evil man, nothing could be bought, the people themselves lived from hand to mouth.