Andrey Soustin

A son who has left Abkhazia for the Russian North writes a letter to his father who remained in the mountains. His days are marked by the monotonous hum of the factory, cold sunrises, and a yearning for the warmth of home. The letter’s lines are steeped in childhood nostalgia: the smell of an old apartment, a southern forest, cows wandering through it.

No synopsis available yet.

A son who has left Abkhazia for the Russian North writes a letter to his father who remained in the mountains. His days are marked by the monotonous hum of the factory, cold sunrises, and a yearning for the warmth of home. The letter’s lines are steeped in childhood nostalgia: the smell of an old apartment, a southern forest, cows wandering through it.

A son who has left Abkhazia for the Russian North writes a letter to his father who remained in the mountains. His days are marked by the monotonous hum of the factory, cold sunrises, and a yearning for the warmth of home. The letter’s lines are steeped in childhood nostalgia: the smell of an old apartment, a southern forest, cows wandering through it.

A son who has left Abkhazia for the Russian North writes a letter to his father who remained in the mountains. His days are marked by the monotonous hum of the factory, cold sunrises, and a yearning for the warmth of home. The letter’s lines are steeped in childhood nostalgia: the smell of an old apartment, a southern forest, cows wandering through it.

No synopsis available yet.