Anzhelika or Olga would have felt more appropriate. Her name was Cynthia.
We met on the plane from Frankfurt and she’d promised to show me Moscow.
From the hotel window, I could see it was another wet, winters day.
The front desk rang.
“Professor Blythe, a car is waiting in front.”
Downstairs the doorman shielded me from the rain and ushered me into the limousine. During the 15 minute ride to the Romanov Sinema, a short walk from Red Square, I sank into the plush leather heated seats and daydreamed of Cynthia.
On arriving, I was led to the front row. Cynthia was already seated.
We were alone. Soft music. Dim lights. High expectations.
“Taste the house speciality Don, Lemoncello Popcorn,” she said with a winning smile.
Two burly men wearing dark raincoats and single earpieces appeared from a side door.
One of them barked, “Please come with us, Professor.”
This week I strayed a few minutes from Red Square for my What Pegman Saw challenge.