My friend told me about smoking.
Saturday 7 to 30 in the morning. The city sleeps. The doorbell is very long.
I get up with a shaken face, stretch the trailers back and forth and get to the door by the wall. I open and see the picture:
From the doors of the apartments on the staircase cage look neighboring men. Everyone’s faces are like they’ve been drinking with me all night. In the center is a lively man Ok and confusedly smiling, he gives - "Carton! of Lipetskaya. With bags... no one needs it?" Last he whispered, clinging to one of his neighbors.
And the neighbor replied, “Go, go to me, my brother... I have been waiting for you since 4am.”
A man broke down the stairs.