The year 90. of Donetsk. The USSR.
There is a smell of money and pogroms in the air.
Some have already had them.
In the sense of money.
In other words, the pogroms.
In these circumstances, I am collecting manats to Israel. All affairs have already been settled, documents have been handed over and received, dollars have been exchanged, withdrawals have been paid to the state. I say goodbye to the city, friends and friends. Often in the evenings I sit in visits to a couple of close friends (Slavs), where we tremble for life and for Israel.
Friends have a daughter aged 4-5, who listens and absorbs our conversations and sometimes disturbs us with her childish ringing and disgusting voice.
A friend’s wife travels once a month with her daughter to their parents in Gorlovka.
In the bus.
The people rejected. In the good sense.
The next is from the words of my friend’s wife, decorated by me.
On the right of advertising: I sell oil paints consecrated by the 13th Apostle. and personally.)

They go by bus to Gorlovka. The morning. and autumn. The opposite rain.
Ugly and ugly.
The people in the bus are dark and angry. Especially those who are not lucky enough to sit.
The girl becomes bored and sad.
In order to dispel the sadness, a conversation with my mother was chosen.
The voice is loud and ringing.
The topic is, of course, the most appropriate.
(On the whole bus, irritating sleeping passengers) Mom! Where are we going?
and quiet! to Grandma.
- (The word "silent" is perceived as a guide to increase the volume) And when will we go to Israel?
The dark proletariat and the students who have joined it are interested in potential Jews.
Tension is increasing.

Silence, daughter, we are not going to Israel. Uncle Sasha is going to Israel.
(After feeling the awakening public attention, even louder) When are we going to Israel?
The people start to choke and ask each other whether they are going on the route, who is going out at the next stop in Israel, etc.
- (With the cheeks of the colour of first-class Russian rubies) Quiet, daughter, we can’t go to Israel. We are not allowed there.
After a brief pause, during which the Slavic girl suddenly discovered all the injustice of this world, the wickedness of the Jews in general and the Zionists in particular.
All the bus...
At the level of 130 decibels.
Oh yeah yeah yeah! Oh my mom!!! I want to go to Israel!!!! to

The further journey was undergoing continuous gooths and screams of the public.
The Woman! I want to go to Israel too!
I want to marry Uncle Sasha.
I want to go to Paris!
If you go to Israel, you pay for tickets.
I’m going to go to Nice!
Miner Haifa is a champion!
And the driver's verdict on the speaker:
Fuck you, not Israel. The bus is going to Biobidjan!