Explore "The Bolshevik Myth" by Alexander Berkman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Awakened early in the morning by strains of music and song, I went out into the street. The city was in gala attire: flags and banners fluttered in the air; red carpets and curtains hung from windows and doors, the variety of shade and design producing a warm, Oriental effect.
On the Nevsky a large automobile passed me, stopping a few paces ahead. A curly, black head rose from the depths of the machine, and someone hailed me: "Hello, Berkman, come and join us. " I recognized Zinoviev.