I am an epic sleeper.

At the crossing I stand with a man, passing by the car, a little scratching (wicked, it is St. Petersburg, the lady). I turn back from the road for a step, two, three, four... I hold my back on something, I am scared, I jump back sharply, I turn and machinefully:
Oh sorry please!
Stallone was not very offended. The man grumbled.

Everyone’s dreams and dreams))