Journalist Jada Perlmutter becomes the story she seeks as she travels from Soviet Moscow to the mountainous "South" where her lover Vahan plans to take up being a guerrilla fighter in a new breakaway state. Injured, Jada is transported back to Moscow. Years later, in NYC, the taste of ash in her mouth sends Jada back to the Caucasus to conclude the story she had left unfinished.
Moscow's cold grabbed and pulled at my neck, setting the nerves there to twirling and the muscles to eating my throat, to tightening, like kudzu's ever-encroach around the trees back home in the Virginia mountains. This cold pierced, like, like the time Timmey, a day off from kindergarten for some reason or another, like the time he stabbed at my neck with our mother's pincushion full of pins, dull pricks and infuriating tingles, their flat sides stunning more...