And recently he bought a license for publishing and dreams of publishing something mine. I just quietly squeezed myself under the table: maybe I dream of all this?In general, I gave him the last manuscript not yet interwoven, − the first extrasensitive took with me. And two days later the businessman angrily called that in vain he contacted me because there was nothing to eat in the house. His wife and father-in-law fight for each leaf, and he is advised to look into the refrigerator himself. And if I don’t immediately bring something to eat to his office, he doesn’t know me.I remember, I brought him a chicken foot with a cake, a salty cucumbers, and six months later, with a five-thousand edition, the novel saw the light.