So they returned to their villages and are told they're going to get sick and die soon, but five happy years, their logic goes, is better than 10 stuck in a high rise on the outskirts of Kiev, separated from the graves of their mothers and fathers and babies, the whisper of stork wings on a spring afternoon.
Jadi mereka kembali ke desa mereka dan diberi tahu bahwa mereka akan segera sakit dan meninggal, namun lima tahun yang berbahagia kemudian, logika mereka berkata ini lebih baik diaripada apartemen 10 lantai di pinggiran Kiev, terpisah dari makam Ibu, Ayah, dan anak-anak mereka, bisikan sayap bangau di sore musim semi.