Status Updates From Voces de Chernóbil: Crónica...

These were people who worked at the reactor—engineers, workers, physics instructors. They stood in the black dust, talking, breathing, wondering at it. People came from all around on their cars and their bikes to have a look. We didn’t know that death could be so beautiful.

The world has been split in two: there’s us, the Chernobylites, and then there’s you, the others. Have you noticed? No one here points out that they’re Russian or Belarussian or Ukrainian. We all call ourselves Chernobylites. “We’re from Chernobyl.” “I’m a Chernobylite.” As if this is a separate people. A new nation.

I used to lie in the forest and stare up at the sky, I’d feel so good I’d forget my own name.