Ivan Ivanovich was awake. In principle, the day has started well. When you are a hundred and eighteen years old, wake up. The first thing was the technical examination: the left eye was blurred - it works, then the right eye was dim. It was washed, tapped, like new. He has bent everything that is wretched, that is not wretched, he has lubricated. I checked the front and rear, diagnosed the neck. Having been convinced that everything was turning and crumbling, he made two floods, three floods, and started a new day.

At eight o’clock he was called from the Pension Fund.
– Lidochka, hello, – he shouted joyfully in the telephone.
- And you goodbye, Ivan Ivanovich, - sadly greeted him Lidochka, - how do you feel?
“I can’t complain,” the old man smiled at the telephone.
“I’m very sorry, Ivan Ivanovich, because of you, I have the fifth excuse this year! Today it is 30 years since you stopped receiving the savings pension and moved to the state!
Well forgive me. This month, I heard the promotion?
“Yes, promotion... her voice became as sad as that of Piero, and you, for a while, do not work anywhere? She decided to try her luck.
Unfortunately, I have enough money in my head.
— Sorry... All you... — she didn’t finish the sentence and put the phone on.

At nine o’clock Ivan Ivanovich sat down for breakfast with his grandson, who did not live with him, but always opened the door with his key. When he entered, he usually did the first thing to measure. The kitchen will move, the bathroom. Then he sits - calculates the materials, pretends the cost of the work, paints the furniture.

I came here today without a roulette, I forgot.

“Take a servant,” Ivan Ivanovich suggested, “there’s still something left of your grandfather,” he sadly sneezed and poured the boiler into the tea.
The man only breathed hard and sat down to eat the famous ancestor’s egg.

At ten o’clock the old man went out to smoke at the entrance.

Oh Oh! Ivanych, you are smiling again! And you know what smoking causes... a neighbor looked at a very living old man who started smoking at the age when they normally die from what “causes.”
We met in Moscow today.
What to do there?
We ride the subway, we go to the Red Square, we look at Lenin until we are buried.
Look at him like Lenin.
Did you see him yourself?
He came to us in the village.
In the grave?! to
and no. In the cup.
Listen, how old are you at all?
Eighteen years old, the old man chewed the filter with his lips.
Go you go!
I stayed for a second term.
At the age of you!
With these words, Ivanovich returned home.

At eleven the director of the MTS called and tearfully asked to change the tariff. The one on which Ivan Ivanovich was sitting existed only because of him and in terms of modern money was not worth anything, even the opposite, MTS paid him a little extra.

At half-third, an old friend called on the video and said that a strange woman in black came to him with a trimmer in his hands.
Someone squeezed, all on the nerves. I asked her why she didn’t answer her calls. Why don’t you read messages on WhatsApp? asked for a meeting. She cried, hysterized, left her visit card and... the trimmer march, he pointed to the instrument in the corner.

At five o’clock Ivan Ivanovich appeared in the store. On the birthday, the hypermarket offered a discount equal to the age. Ivan Ivanovich took a cake, a kilogram of bananas and a broad-format TV. He called for taxis and truckers.

At seven o’clock they called from the morgue and asked to finally get their insurance policy and backpacks.

At eight, the guests came, Ivan laid on the table, turned on a new TV, spilled wine. The toasts were very spicy. The guests did not know what to want, so they just stood up in turn.

At ten o’clock the police arrived to ask for silence, as older people live behind the wall. The door was opened by a man, causing the guards a paradoxical shift in perception.

Ivanovich slept closer to midnight, when exhausted by the celebration, most of the guests went to their homes and hospitals. Smiling in the emptiness, he removed from his finger and placed under his pillow a magical golden ring, which all these years extended his life. It was engraved in small letters with a magical inscription, made on the order of the wife before her departure: "Live for us two." He did so.

c) Alexander Rain