Ten or twelve years ago, when we were close to 18, we and a friend were drinking beer at his entrance.

The first days of January, we celebrate the ng.

Five-storey, but windows with a showdown, you're with the showdown on which we sat.

At four in the morning we went to the store for water. Really on the water.

They came out of the courtyard, crossed half the road and saw a beetle in the distance.

They ran back into the yard.

The car behind us.

We made a circle and ran into the entrance, climbed to the fifth floor and, miraculously, sat down in a chair.

In five minutes I look at the wall above the window, and there the icon hangs, somewhere 50x50 cm.

I tell a friend, do you see the icon?

He sees.

I thought it was a sign.

The next night they remembered it, and decided to watch it sober.

They went up, and the icons, of course, did not.

There is no chair.

It wasn’t a little by itself.

We still remember that story.

We were not blue. Under the degree.



Okay, shit history, badly read