The Broken Ballerina - William Falo

Andrey hurried toward the border crossing when he saw the lady approaching him.

“Wait,” the lady called out.

He didn’t want to stop, but she grabbed his bag spilling the contents onto the ground. The test tubes shattered causing him to turn around and glare at her.

“Do you know what you done?” He said, picking up the wet bag.

 “I’m sorry. It’s just water.”
He saw the image of a small casket being carried to a grave, while water samples remained untested in the room he shared with the Romanian girl. The false reports would state that the Transylvanian village ignored his warnings.

“That’s water from the Dniester; it needs to be tested for Moldova to have a chance to enter the EU.”

He realized that the woman lived in Transnistria, and probably hated Moldavians.

“Never mind.” He turned and passed the guardhouse that the Russian soldiers occupied.

“Please take me to Chisinau,” she said and fell to her knees.


“They are having auditions for the ballet,” she said.

A young girl walked toward her and reached up for her hand. She looked like a little ballerina and it caused the memory of the little girl to return. They buried her with a small music box that she coveted.

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