A friend told me a story today.

A girl from Moscow came to the neighboring house. A friend came to her and met her. They stand, they talk. The conversation is about her parents. She was an orphan, her mother and father died. A friend says, sorry she immediately became, does not even know what to talk about next. He asked something:

Do you have brothers or sisters?

She looks at him somewhat dissatisfied. A friend asks:

What is?

She answers:

There were three brothers and they all died.

My friend is completely frozen. What to do next is unclear. He thinks it needs to be entertained somehow. He says:

Do you have a guy?

She answers:

It was.

My friend rejoiced:

Why did they break up?

She is:

is dead.

–...

Okay then I went.