In a cramped St. Petersburg neighborhood, two distant relatives—Varvara Dobroselova and Makar Devushkin—live across from each other in rundown apartments where thin walls carry every sound of struggle. Both hover at the edge of poverty, but the letters they exchange become the one steady thread holding their lives together.
Varvara carries the weight of a turbulent past: a harsh childhood, an abusive home, and a brief, tender attachment that ended in loss. Makar works long hours as a low-level copyist, constantly belittled at the office and painfully aware of his place in the world. Despite his hardships, he sends her gifts he can barely afford, hoping to offer her a small comfort.
Through their correspondence, they share stories, fears, and the small victories that keep them going. Books pass between them, ideas spark, and a quiet bond forms—fragile, hopeful, and never spoken aloud.
As pressures mount around them—money troubles, intrusive landlords, old memories, and new opportunities—the two must face a question they’ve both avoided: whether their connection can survive the hard pull of circumstances that never seem to ease.
Poor Folk unfolds as an intimate portrait of two lonely souls reaching toward each other in a city that rarely makes room for tenderness, letting their letters become the only place where they can breathe.
