At 15 years old, we are standing on the pitch at the entrance of the elevator. The elevator is busy, someone is going. My root serga says:

When I was a child, I often pushed the doors of the elevator when someone was driving there. And he struck.

Said is done. We open the doors, the elevator gets stuck for a few seconds, then goes on. We are rugging.

The elevator stops on the 6th floor, the man goes up the stairs on foot, and without saying a word, gives us both in the roof and leaves. Serena, touching her jaw, notes:

“In my childhood, when we did this, we usually ate...this!