Listen, it went well. – Our director said, looking at the printing of the presentation I wrote. - Laconic, all in essence, without any mute. Written by myself?

by Sam. I stumbled.

I did not expect, to be honest. My boss shrugged my head. Where did you learn so much to express your thoughts?

I answered something distracted and uncertain and went back to my desk. And I wondered myself – but really, where did I get such a longing for shortness?



And then I remembered how my dad and I went on a telephone conversation with my grandmother, who lived in Kazakhstan and was going to visit us for the New Year. I was 8 years old. My dad and I took six trolleybus stops, walked a mile and sat on a bench at the post office for half an hour. Then, standing with him in a tight telephone cabin, I listened to a long dialogue about air tickets, the country’s economy and the health of our numerous relatives.



Finally, when the paid minutes were over, Dad gave me a phone call to say hello to my grandmother. I told her how I was doing at school. And finally I heard from her the question for which I generally agreed to this journey:

Grandchildren, what do you bring as a gift?



Turn around. Half a minute of strength remains. I have no money with me. My father whispered loudly in my ear.

And then I realized that in thirty seconds I would have to explain somehow to my 60-year-old grandmother what a dendy cartridge with the game “Battletoads and Double Dragon” is.



In general, I have a shame on words from wherever I come from and everything else. From childhood.