Nikolai

Nojovski trudged outside, the snow clumping around his ankles. He usually hated walking, but this morning had a certain brightness about it. The misty sun cheered him just enough to be lifted partially out of his usual early morning depression.

A snowball arced across in front of him, and he foolishly turned to see who had thrown it. The freezing slush slid down his face as the second snowball found it's target perfectly. He smirked as he remembered Nikolai, his younger brother, pulling the same trick on him 30 years previously.

“Hey Dimitri!, watch as I hit Helga!”, he would cry.

Dimitri would crouch eagerly in anticipation, only for the throw to fall short. Every time he would turn to mock his younger brother's pitiful effort, only to be hit square in the face by a boy barely able to contain his delight.

“Every time you schmuck! Every single time!” he crowed, jumping about like a jack-rabbit.

But now Nikolai was gone, lost in the winter of '81. Dimitri didn't like to think about it, and the smirk was just as quickly replaced with his usual sullen stare. The young boy who had ruined his walk now looked more terrified than triumphant, and wisely ran off. Dimitri kicked at the snow and trudged on, making a mental note to take his car tomorrow, whatever the weather.