The preamble.
Behind the window is a school stadium, where in the morning people torment themselves with running and other physical training. The younger generation, not yet concerned with pressure / cholesterol / arthritis / shortness of breath, runs around the corner on the shifts, smoking cigarettes.
The Ambulance.
The next day, coming out of the entrance, I encounter a bunch of girls running out to fuck on the change. They have a tragedy: they are all missing. The most uncomplexed, having put all their craftsmanship into action, rush to the man who cleans the car nearby: Mushchka :) serve a cigarette :) :)...
The man is sad: You would quit smoking, girls. You still have children to give birth!
Nymphs embarrassed but with a challenge in response: “Is it about you?”
The man, breathing, cried out: When this touches me it will be too late.
He continues to clean the car.

I know this man. Pathologist from the hospital.