Xxx: I remember, at 15-16 years, somehow in a hurry narval leaves from an apple tree, dried, then carefully cut small, twisted into a sliced paper from cookies type K Tea, a cotton filter sprinkled, sprinkled some dish with the inscription Cigar and hid somewhere in the basement. Three years later, and more, the basement was dismantled from the basement, and this absolutely unsuitable smoking cane (one and a half centimeters in diameter) fell from somewhere out of the mud. I said for some reason that it wasn’t me. And after a while I thought it was just an apple, you could just admit.)

Yyy: Here’s you... And then my dad sat down, pressed an apple leaf and thought he wasn’t crying.