“Nida sat in a banana box and watched. Mikhail did not turn away from the machine, but he knew that she was watching, she was always watching. The workshop smelled of wood, glue, burnt deer horn, solvent and a homemade wax candle, which Mikhail always lit when he worked. Over the winter, he chewed a three-liter jar of wax, drowned it and rolled out crackling and odorous candles...”