卡佳低聲說：“可能是那個米沙。”她的手指扣下扳機，槍口一閃，那人倒下去，一袋麵粉摔在泥裡。Her finger pulled the trigger, the man fell

天亮時，炮聲又響起來，一群野狗在嚎叫，震得窗框吱吱作響。卡佳回到窗邊，架起槍，說：“他們還在那兒，BMP-2的履帶聲越來越近。明天我得干掉幾個，不然我們這邊就完了。”我跟著她，蹲在窗邊，看著遠處的壕溝，一個士兵探出頭，戴著毛帽，手裡拿著步槍，動作慢得似乎在夢遊。卡佳低聲說：“可能是那個米沙。”她的手指扣下扳機，槍口一閃，那人倒下去，一袋麵粉摔在泥裡。她放下槍，看著我，說：“你拍了嗎？”我搖搖頭，說：“沒來得及。”她的嘴角抽了一下，冷笑說：“也好，這種事不值得記。”我沒反駁，掏出記事本，寫下：“一封來自盧甘斯克的信，落在泥裡，沒能回家。”我把信夾在頁面裡，泥土味混著墨水味，是什麼燒不掉的東西。
那天中午，卡佳說要去另一個據點，背起槍走了，腳步輕得像一隻貓，迷彩服在風裡晃動，又似一隻瘦鳥飛向遠処。我說要留下來多看幾天，她點點頭，沒回頭。我靠著窗框，看著遠處的壕溝，風吹來一陣低語，是米沙的聲音，也是卡佳弟弟的聲音，混著炮聲，我越來越聽不懂的最不和諧的交響樂在拼命奏響。我合上本子，覺得胸口沉得壓了塊鐵，記事本裡的信抖了一下，還在喘氣。

At dawn, the gunfire sounded again, and a group of wild dogs howled, making the window frames creak. Katya returned to the window, set up the gun, and said: "They are still there, the sound of BMP-2 tracks is getting closer and closer. I have to kill a few tomorrow, otherwise we will be finished here." I followed her, squatting by the window, looking at the trench in the distance. A soldier stuck his head out, wearing a fur hat and holding a rifle in his hand. His movements were so slow that he seemed to be sleepwalking. Katya whispered: "Maybe it's that Misha." Her finger pulled the trigger, the gun flashed, the man fell down, and the bag of flour fell into the mud. She put down the gun, looked at me, and said, "Did you take the picture?" I shook my head and said, "I didn't have time." She twitched the corner of her mouth and sneered, "That's fine, this kind of thing is not worth remembering." I didn't refute, took out my notepad, and wrote: "A letter from Luhansk fell in the mud and failed to go home." I sandwiched the letter between the pages. The smell of earth mixed with the smell of ink was something that couldn't be burned.
At noon that day, Katya said she was going to another stronghold, picked up her gun and left, her steps as light as a cat, her camouflage uniform swaying in the wind, and flying into the distance like a skinny bird. I said I would stay and watch for a few more days, and she nodded and didn't look back. I leaned against the window frame and looked at the trench in the distance. The wind blew a whisper. It was Misha's voice, and it was also the voice of Katya's brother. Mixed with the sound of cannons, the most discordant symphony that I could not understand more and more was playing desperately. I closed the notebook and felt a heavy weight on my chest. The letter in the notebook trembled, and I was still breathing.