Today in Moscow at the Bakuleva Heart Center, when I was paying for the heart’s uzi, I noticed that the room in which the cashier was sitting was very special – the entire desk, six wall shelves and two in the closet were wrapped with different kinds of souvenir turtles, from the size of a finger to the size of Bulgarian pepper, even a computer mouse had the shape and shape of a turtle. I was interested in this, and I asked this treasurer, a man of fifty years, measurable and calm in his speech:
Let me ask you, are these all your turtles?
All of mine.
Why are they so many?
They are all different. If they were all the same...and they were all different.

I was in admiration. That was the most sensible answer that could be given to my question. Despite the fact that I don’t see any sense in accumulating a large number of identical objects, I felt there was something in it, there might be some sense in it, that it wasn’t just so.