I live with my grandmother in an apartment. When I go to work, I don’t lock the door, I don’t take the keys either. When I come in, the door is still open, the grandmother usually doesn’t come out. Yesterday I came from work, the door to the castle was closed. I knock, no one opens. My grandmother is silent. Maybe she went to the store. He went down to the entrance, sat down on the bench, smoked. Then something pushed me to go and call my grandmother. Our windows are on the opposite side of the courtyard, the second floor. I walked around the house, and there was this picture: some dwarf old man climbing through our window to the street. Grandmother holds it, indicating how to put the foot on the cradle. In short, the grandfather barely slipped to the ground, grabbed his cap, shouted something like, "Tomorrow I'll come early!" and went away. At that time, I stood behind the corner. I waited a few minutes and went home. The door was opened, the grandmother pretended to be asleep, and out of the corner of the room was a hidden modest bouquet of flowers.