A film is a sequence of murders with bed scenes.

Preventive

When I was a child I lived in a small remote town, it was the end of the 90s, the beginning of the 00s. To understand approximately: life in the town lagged about 10 years behind the Moscow region and other central regions. That is, when in Moscow all these banditic stories ended and all the bandits moved into business/politics, we all dreamed of becoming bandits. Why work in a factory if you can cover the kiosks, do nothing and get twice as many workers? Only bad guys work, I’m not. I will not work in my life. I, of course, like all my surroundings, also wanted to get into this middle and "rise up" on it.

But one day during the summer holidays, he got into the police. Nothing serious, just a small hooliganism. I was lucky to meet a good policeman. He was calm, like a tank, communicated with me very politely and seemed to understand me. This, of course, psychologically put himself on my side, actually putting me on my own. I don't remember exactly what he was saying or how it happened before, but at some point he offered to show me the camera. Of course, I agreed, but it is interesting to see where I will find myself sooner or later and spend a part of my life!

It was lonely. There were no detainees there, nobody told me anything, I was just thrown inside the cameras, and this policeman stood outside, not even closing the door. I stood inside this chamber: fucking dirty; it smelled so that I couldn’t describe it with words. Size 1 * 3 meters. Half a meter wide occupied the shell (a iron rectangle with two old boards on it, but in general you could put 3 or even 4 boards, but probably one was broken, and who would put the third there? He was there with two half-glandles. Right behind it is a hole in the floor for understandable purposes. The walls, the floor, the ceiling are all black. 20 * 20 cm approximately, never washed, and even behind two rows of grids, that is, there is almost no light. There is also no electric light, only from the corridor, if you open the door. I used to the dark for a few minutes.

The following year I worked as an assistant worker all summer and was wildly delighted with small but honestly earned money. Changed the surroundings. The view of life has changed a lot.

The EU countries have rejected Nord Stream 2. But the tube did not go wrong. We’ll scream at her that they’re all pirates.

Well, in general, such a piss in life always happens unexpectedly. I have been working as a coach for about 7 years and I have one regular client. Which I’ve been doing for 5 years, probably. A beautiful social girl, in the presence has a son and a wonderful husband. But from the beginning she was somewhat hyperactive in communicating with me. What’s on training, what’s outside. When I flew anywhere to study or on vacation, I always wrote how I was doing, how I flew and if I ate. That kind of hype always seemed strange to me. But I tried not to give up this importance and worked with her further.)

Then one beautiful summer day, a year ago. I come home and I get a photo of her in the chat. It depicts a little girl, a woman and my young father. The VTF. I ask her in the most incomprehensible words “who is this and why is my father in the photo” and she writes to me that a little girl is her, a woman is her Mom, and my dad is her Dad. And here I just walked. In a complete misunderstanding of the situation, I call my father and ask what the universe is, and he answers, “Yes, it’s your sister, but it’s not your business. for the time being.”

Cool is simple. Everyone knew about my sister’s existence except me and my mother. Well, and she decided to tell it five years later. Malakhov is resting.

At the beginning there was zero. I went with a friend to a night club on Friday after work. We drink and we relieve stress. Mood is great. People are not much. We drink and talk. And here we meet a guy and a girl from the neighboring table. The cute guys. Ask permission to move with us. We communicate very well for the next couple of hours. Here, the guards polently begin to hint that it is time to go out. And the girl says, "and we live in the neighboring house, go to us, let's go on!"

Because in all of us we are already more than 0.5. And indeed, across the road from the club their house, we get up (about 4 am), we enter. And here, they say, “Go into the kitchen, but please be quiet, we are out in that room, the child is sleeping!” We are like that, yeah okay, once we come, we go. We sit and communicate, and the girl runs all the time and when she returns, she says - it's okay - she sleeps.

I ask where can I smoke? Go to the balcony. And the balconies in that house, you know, go along the whole apartment.

I stand on the balcony, enjoy the summer Saturday morning and suddenly realize that the neighboring windows are the same room where the "child" sleeps. At dawn, I look out the window.

And there is a completely empty room, in the middle is an empty bed, on which lies an empty mattress!

Tumblr is switching to danger mode. I am sober, I go to the kitchen, take Bora under my hands and quickly leave the room with a preliminary inspection of the stairs.



It seemed, but what was it?

In 2008, after the army, I worked in one of the retail chains for the sale of household appliances, I received a good ZP. And here we have a boy, Pasha, under the protection of the leadership. Everyone seemed to be away from him, but I quickly found a common language with him (per because of the same age). This is preface.

It was after the salary, on the street is summer, no clouds in the sky, we decided Pacha and I to walk after work, drink a beer, meet some girls. Near the job I drank a bottle, then on the road, then jumped into the cafe I ordered a shaurma because I was hungry after work. We then headed to Lenin Square, a little wandering around it, and met two ladies. I remember one beautiful woman who was a writer. Landed on the bench, beer by the river, girls one by one disappear somewhere, we walk. And then my stomach tells me that the shaurma was not very good quality, turns and asks out. A pasha here offers "Driven to me, the apartment is free", the girls supported, I feel I won't get to Pachino's house, which is at the other end of the city. I say let’s go without me, Pacha insists, and my bottom is breaking out already, only I think how to get home faster, lived in two quarters. I promptly agreed that I would go home and go home to Pashka. I run to the parking lot, catch the first taxi and drive 2 quarters to the house. As I got to a white friend I don’t remember what I remember is that at midnight I couldn’t get away from him and for 15 minutes, Pashka called me until 2 o’clock and then disappeared from communication. I did not give importance.

In the morning not sleeping meal to work, I call Pacha he is not accessible, which is strange. It is not at work, neither before nor after the opening of the store. Close to lunch I agreed with the director to take a taxi home to check what happened to him. Then he goes into the store himself. I’ll ask him how and where he disappeared. He told me. We came with these ladies to him home, on the road jumping into the nightmare, purchased champagne, candy, etc. and so on. After I drank a couple of glasses of shampoo and all, he says, I don’t remember anything. In the morning I woke up on the floor in the hall, the entrance door was covered, there was no money, no phone, they took out the TV, DVD, gold, in general, it was good. Paška to the neighbor to call the menta, those who came accepted the application, checked the fingers (no fingerprints), cracked and left. And here Pacha asks me, "You remember them on the face, can you describe them? "And I only remember that one was beautiful, and all, well, and something else wanted to fuck. And it turns out that he and I do not even remember the general description of these virgins.

So I stayed with my wallet and the bag without it.