This city slips away from me. I have seen its former face — streets that are extensions of rivers and canals, and the canals filled with the Neva. It was a magnificent city — with palaces and cathedrals, with museums and theatres. But something has changed. The accumulated filth of crimes and schemes drags it toward the bottom. My city is changing — and I feel it. When the residents ask me: "Save us!" I will only whisper: "Sankt-Ponyburg falls asleep, Ponyebrik-City awakens…"

The darkness

thickens.