Sick in the summer. I sat behind the comp, squeezed in a sweater, and threw on the sofa next door. The jacket falls. Well, nothing, he barely reached the floor, raised it, and threw it again. The cloth lay down for a few seconds and slipped to the floor. In anger, I decided to repeat. The shirt was on the floor again. No, I was against removing it elsewhere, I continued to throw it away. At 5 times, the t-shirt was delayed for a longer time, but it still fell. I thought... There was obviously something wrong with him, falling, as if he was trying to tell me what it was. I got up and looked around the floor, but found nothing. At some point I realized that I could control them, or rather climb them off the couch. I dropped him, he stopped and fell. I ordered them, but soon my mother came and turned off the fan.