here here :

Brenskaya: Boltya with Irka on the phone, she tells me: whatever I draw, everything comes true, like by magic!

I was not going to ruin the child's holiday at all, that she was a little bit a wizard, but I remembered the unfinished repair, and it came out of itself: Irka, Draw, How the Ruble Rises!

Ten seconds of ringing silence, the interested eyes of my parents and brother, my burning cheeks and the breathtaking whisper of Irky from the tube.

The cry of the soul, shit.

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And I painted, apparently. Let him paint ;)