I enter the hospital room and there he is, sitting up straight in his bed with his bald head hanging low into his hands. Even though I can’t see his face, his thin long fingers reveal his bones. He doesn’t seem to notice me. Outside the…

One time on a visit to my father he got out this old record player from the attic and put on a 78 rpm (I believe he got from his father); a Sovjet-labelled record from the Fyodorov Sisters and it was as like a call from another world. There…