Not an anecdote. It was. Last week, two comrades from neighboring streets were buried. One father sang. to replace. Now the picture: a crossroads, two men stand, waiting for a procession to conduct, so to speak, the last path of a friend. Five minutes standing, ten... smoking. Finally, because of the corner, the puppy rolls out, sharply seeds on the crossroads, the phone is pressed to the ear:
Yes, we sent it, we sent it! Meet all of you!
The second man, the second man:
What do you think is he calling now?! to