When I was 17, I had a best friend. 17 years, you understand yourself, youth, unhappy love and all that. One day, we go for a walk with her. I tell her about our relationship, well, of course he is so ugly, and he doesn't love me at all, and I love him, by the way, very much, and how to live on. I cry, the torso runs on my face, I whisper my nose, in general, the tragedy of the century! My friend is very attentive, silent, listening to me, periodically sympathizing with her head. And in the most epic moment of my suffering, she suddenly stops sharply, takes my hand sharply, and looking into my broken eyes, asks, “Listen, what do you think I should buy?” Black or brown?