Motel - visibility of meters 150-200, not more, plus strong wind, snow almost horizontally flying. No mood, no work force, went out on the balcony, fuck, without the wind from the other side of the house. Through the noise of the wind, I hear the bicycle ringing. I think somebody went out on the balcony, got to his big and cracked, "remembering the summer". No, it doesn’t bother – from the purge, two cross-greats come out, on which two pumped eagles are sitting, twisting with laughter. And laugh healthy, not smoked and not drunk laughter. The boys under friendship pass by the house and hide in the purge, whispering rare pedestrians by ringing calls. Blade, we have snow on the knee, plus a mole, plus a light frost - and they are on bicycles and against the wind. There is a shit, and the mood has risen.