Article by Toby Teksler

Page 1

Toby Teksler

The Cold Imagration

M

om I’m hungry.” The little boy whimpered. Anna turns to her husband, “Izia, Boris needs some food.” “All we have is a bottle of vodka.” Pondering their options Anna and Izia looked around. They were in a small town, their train’s one stop on the journey from Ukraine to Vienna. They couldn’t find any food, and they knew there would be no opportunity to get food anytime soon. After a little while of asking other passengers, they found a man with some soup and Izia traded his bottle of vodka for the man’s soup. Moments later Izia came back brandishing the soup. But when they gave it two their son the two year old took one sip and said, “Mommy I don’t like it.”


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