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In Ritual

The Wounded Healer

By Kristen
KGB officers accost Nureyev at the Le Bourget Airport in Paris and my right leg begins to tremble. His friend Clara Saint approaches French police and informs them that her friend is downstairs and will make a bid for asylum. Now, both my legs are shaking, along with my hands. My partner turns to me and asks if I’m cold. I shake my head, eyes glued straight ahead. READ MORE

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April 24, 2020
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