bolshoi juice

i'm halfway through this article detailing the inner workings of the bolshoi ballet, moscow's storied dance company, in light of the recent acid attack on its artistic director. it's riveting and i recommend it if you're in the mood for some longform.

At around eleven, Filin, feeling tired and eager to see his wife, steered the Mercedes into a parking lot outside his building and headed for his door. The snow was icy and thick. Filin was reaching for the security buzzer when he heard someone behind him call out his name. Then the voice said, “Tebye privet!”—literally, “Hello to you!,” but more abrupt and menacing, as though someone were relaying an ominous greeting from a third party.

Filin turned and saw a man in front of him. He was neither tall nor short. He wore a woolly hat and a scarf wrapped around his face. His right arm was crooked behind him, as if he were concealing something.

A gun, Filin thought, in that flash of confrontation: He’s holding a gun and I am dead. Bolt! But, before he could move, his attacker swung his arm out in front of him. In his hand was a glass jar filled with liquid, and he hurled its contents at Filin’s face. A security camera in the parking lot fixed the time at 23:07. (via)