I have lived in the fifth floor for about a year. We have no rubbish. I always pick up the garbage bags that lie on the way to the first floor. Well, little, maybe my grandmother lives alone, and I am not broken. I go to the container. And then I was lucky to go on vacation, for the first time in 3 years a week. I got back today, I get up. I see, on the fourth floor there are three huge packages of garbage and they smell very strong (the week turned out to be warm). I call the apartment next to which there are bags to get a little upset, well, or to make sure there is a lonely old lady. I am opened by a woman aged 30-35. On the backdrop, a child eats, a man in cowards is drawn from behind, and then a stream falls on me:

“Here he appeared. I will write a complaint against you at the JEK, and you will be settled quickly.” In short, I could put the word in three minutes. All this with a lot of matte and real scream. The lady thought that I was an employee of the JEC and was obliged to keep the entrance clean.

I’m going to take a bag there. From the third, where I was convinced that the disabled person lives - ok. But here...