A short story about an unhappy involuntary marriage. Family quarrels, like bad weather in the Russian wilderness: there is nothing worse than becoming an involuntary captive of a blizzard of someone elses spousal abuse.
All its features consist only in youth and attractive appearance, and in the still alive soul, which writhes under the weight of the cargo that has landed on it and stubbornly does not want to die, does not want to give up, and everything continues to wait for someone or something. Her husband, a miserable man, considers his wife a witch.
