by Deja Vu.

Early morning, February 22 (about 5 am), still dark, Kiev
150 kilometers from Moscow. On board – minus eighteen
of degrees. As I crossed another section of the road, I noticed a steep step in the
Not quite dressed by the weather. It is dark but
I have noticed that there is nothing in the figure...

And nothing else, dear comrades. To the nearest inhabitant.
The point was not fifteen kilometers, and until the remaining behind - so much.
Yes is. From which somehow it became clear that uncle on the road was not the first hour. and
to walk him into the darkness, and to step further, and not weakly. at such a temperature.

Fuck you uncle. Let you be a maniac, a rapist, a psychopath.
With a big knife, curiosity is stronger. Getting out of a cold night.
A pedestrian suicide in a car. The conversation takes place approximately
The following:

How are they called?

by Pavel

Where to tap?

to Kiev. by Autostop...

from where?

From Moscow.

When did you get out of her?

Yesterday at seven in the morning.

Have you walked a day?

No, 80 kilometers have passed. On the side.

Slept for 24 hours?

and no.

Is there money?

and no.

Why is?

He worked in Moscow as an engineer for the last one and a half months.
have paid. To live for nothing, there is nothing. There is nothing to sell except the phone.
Sold, the money ended – so I had to go.

- It is not scary that the holiday, the track is empty, and the oak is such a
on the street?

I wonder why there are so few cars.

When is El?

- The guard on the parking lot recently allowed to warm up, served coffee.
and sandwiches.

You know that it could freeze so easily, no one would.
have stopped? To your Kiev to go a thousand kilometers.

I have not even tried to brake. The driver of Fury.
Someone to agree. But nobody takes. There are few cars.

How old are you, Paul?

and twenty six.

It looks like forty...

Yes, life is like that.

And here I am forty.

and yes? I thought 26...

I’ll take you to Brisbane and we’ll find out.

and thanks.

In Brjansk bought him a train ticket to Kiev. I gave him 500 rubles.
The pocket was somewhat broken.

His face was surprised – not that word.

Why deja vu, would you ask? For a long time, in the same place.
This story happened exactly. Only the character went to the other side.