In the week to a friend went to the base, he holds special equipment and trucks large. I see a new wardrobe in the guard's cabin. I don’t pay attention, they are constantly changing. He went to the office and got up. There, Rousseau decides on the phone. My friend told me to sit down and wait. I didn’t have to rush anywhere, I sat down and waited. He agreed on the phone, cut the tube and sat down:
Have you seen the new guard?
I didn’t look, did I have to?
The point is not that. The Savior is mine.
In the sense?
Well, I met the New Year with a hustle. He distributed the salary to the men, sent his wife and children to the father-in-law to the village and struck him in the joys of drinking. The urine hit the head, let's go on the cakes and on the babies to beat balls. It was a week off, and now it was home. He sat in a taxi, his head was plagued, and he was squeezing. Not reaching a few quarters, he asked to stop. I counted, thinking that while I walked, I would wind up. I forgot, fucking, that we live in Siberia, cold under thirty. I slipped, I hit the ice with a butt, I didn’t cut off, but I can’t get up, I lie with my eyes knocking. In five minutes, some of the young people ran, I think they will help get up. Nihren was not the Timurov, the pockets were snooped, the mobile phone with the wallet was squeezed and removed. I could only get half loud. I lay down for another five minutes, and I feel the shit coming to me. He stood up on the ropes, popping up. And here it falls:
To help you? - culturally so, and from the smell itself such that it cleared up in my head.
No need, I say.
He did not listen to me, picked up and dragged me somewhere outside the garage. I think it all went well. And he dragged me into the garage abandoned, his bed there was equipped. The fire broke, somewhere got a bottle. Raised his hands with his legs, he gave in. I warm up and thanked him for going home. The neighbor called an ambulance, they came and picked it up immediately. Freezing is easy, shaking. A week in the hospital and a week at home. Then he found it and took it with him. He now has a guard and a cowboy. I pay my salary and get my passport back. He is a builder in general, himself from Rostov, a children's homeowner. On Sakhalin went for a long ruble, barely got out, he says. Okay, I have to go, I ran.
I went down to Kent and looked at the man. A face like that, somewhere from thirty to fifty. is struck. But you man, you man, you man, you man, you man.