Petr, a man who has believed in fairy tales since childhood.
And fairy tales constantly appeared nearby when he least expected them.
Either a fellow traveler on the train turns out to be a real demon, or an acquaintance swears that during a business trip he ended up with strange people who are convinced that the Soviet Union hadn't disappeared at all, or newspapers write about the revived mummy of some princess…
Or maybe these aren't fairy tales at all? Is there even a place for fairy tales in the modern world? And if there is—then why, for whom, and for what power is it needed?
"The Train to Pravdinsk..." you read it like a fairy tale, inherently Russian and modern at the same time.
This fairy tale is for adults, but it raises something deep, something from within, not quite from childhood, not quite inherited from great-great-grandparents.
The fairy tale rises, like the blue sea, sometimes it turns into an urban legend, and sometimes almost into a conspiracy theory. And you listen, mouth agape, ears perked up. The deeper you dive into it, the more you begin to believe. Nikolai Boloshnev tells it so convincingly, leaving no room for doubt, as if he were there himself, drinking mead and beer.
Such stories need to be read, to be absorbed, to start believing in fairy tales again, or we have all become too serious." — Nastasia Renzhina, author of the bestseller "Grandma Said to Sit Quietly"
-medium.webp)
