Once we went on an excursion. In the Icarus. We were pioneers, and the excursion was to the museum, to drive a hundred kilometers. In general, we go in pioneer cravates, snow on the street, we sing songs. We did not know that this Icarus was a transformed soul-loss. He was like a crematorium on the outside, and inside he gave gas from the soul. In a clean field it started. One pioneer stumbled straight on the carpet trail between the rows of seats. There was a chain reaction. Two pioneer units began to water everything around, and each other. And it happened somehow instantly. I also felt I couldn’t stand it now.

And I remembered how during the change in school, an old warrior told us, a couple of boys washing the floor in the chemistry office for some provinces, how he survived during the war.

He was like us, 10 years old. Suddenly the Germans arrived, all who were caught were loaded into a moving shower and taken to the woods of the village. People thought they were being taken somewhere to work. No one knew what the car was. When he saw all around him asleep, he was wet of fear. There was a cloth in the pocket, it was wet. Losing consciousness, he instinctively took the cloth and pressed it to his nose. He eventually woke up in the night among a bunch of dead bodies.

In Icarus I had a jacket in my pocket. I soaked the cloth with condensate from the glass, and closed my eyes so that I couldn’t see the fountain pioneers. A few minutes later, the driver stopped and opened the door. The frosty air hit the room. Pioneers started jumping out on the street, and boiling the snow with the remains of breakfast. You can imagine what happened inside the room. Only a few are clean, and I am one of them. It is clear that we did not go to the museum, but under the curse of the driver turned and went back.

Thank you military! I don’t remember your name, but I remember how you looked at us, the hooligans with clothes in their hands, and said we’t need it. It was useful. Maybe you will also need.