In the year when the houses in Volgograd and Moscow exploded, if you remember, the situation was quite nervous. Literally a few days after the next explosion, I eat in the trolleybus No. 10, as placed filled under the bandage.
On the back floor, where I am standing, the question is whose bag? I look around and see a black bag of pretty evil appearance. As the trolleybus approached the stop, it became apparent that the owner was not there. The crowd fell out of the door, almost everyone went out. I didn’t go out, I had one stop. A man stood next to him, and there were eight people on the front floor, apparently there they thought they were safe.At the stop, the crowd of those who came out explained to the crowd who wanted to enter that there was a bomb in the bag. At this time, the man who stood with me takes the bag and puts it out at a stop. The trolley bus immediately closes the doors and leaves. And I see through the window that the people are starting to run out from the stop.