In college, I was taken into a literary association.

One of the most stunning characters was the lady, clearly painted the image of the Snow Queen from the Soviet cartoon. A walking ice. She wrote poems corresponding to her appearance. And here this lady reads a poem from the scene, where as an image appears the thin light of a projector lamp. One of the spectators, a young uncle, during the discussion asks:

Have you ever been to a prosecutor? How would we, in your opinion, open the dead if the lamp was dim?! to

I don't know how the next creative biography of the lady developed, but I would have moved on to writing children's songs in her place.