QUOTE : What’s in this bread?” Tatiana asked, breaking off a piece of the black crust and looking inside. “What is this?” It was the start of November. Babushka was on the couch. Mama and Marina had already gone out for the day. Tatiana was procrastinating, trying to make her portion last. She didn’t want to go to the hospital. Dasha leaned over from her chair and shrugged. “Who knows? Who cares? How does it taste?” “Actually, revolting.” “Eat it. What, maybe you’d like some white bread instead?” Tatiana picked at a little piece of something in the bread, poked it with her fingers, then put it on her tongue. “Dash, oh my God, you know what it is?” “I don’t care.” “It’s sawdust.” Dasha paused in her own chewing, but only for a second. “Sawdust?” “Yes, and this here?” Tatiana pointed to a brown fleck between her fingers. “That’s cardboard. We’re eating paper. Three hundred grams a day, and they’re giving us paper.” Finishing every last crumb of her piece and looking hungrily at the one Tatiana was kneading between her fingers, Dasha said, “We’re lucky to have that. Can I open the can of tomatoes?” “No. We have only two left. Besides, Mama and Marina are not here. You know if we open it, we’ll eat it all.” “That’s the idea.” “We can’t. We’ll open it tonight for dinner.” “What kind of dinner is that going to be? Tomatoes?” “If you didn’t eat all your cardboard in the morning, you’d have some left for dinner.” “I can’t help it.” “I know,” said Tatiana, putting the rest of the bread in her mouth and chewing it with her eyes closed. “Listen,” she said when she had swallowed hard, “I’ve got some crackers left. Want to have some? Just three each?” “Yes.” The girls glanced at Babushka, who was sleeping. They ate seven each. Only small remainders were left of what used to be whole pieces of toasted bread. Broken remainders with crumbs on the bottom.