10 years ago, I lived with a young man in a panel on the 3rd floor. In winter, the apartment was often ventilated due to hellish heating. I began to smell an unpleasant smell. In the evening he became stronger. It happened that I couldn’t sleep because of him. I ask everyone – it doesn’t smell anything, you think. I really started to think that I had problems with the head or brain cancer when wearing strange smells. Maybe I was so upset for a week, I didn’t even want to go home. The smell, I thought, was getting stronger. It turned out, it did not seem. A week later, the neighbors from the first floor also smelled. In short, the body of the decomposed bomber was taken out of the basement. Since then, I’ve been called a perfume.