I went down to the seventh floor, asked to smoke: I sit on the third floor, listen to music - a collection of dark ambient and gothic doom metal - and do my business. Here my hand stretched out from the street and closed the fortress to me. The wall is rough, and it is practically not for nothing to cling. Gas pipes on the second and tiny windows. My husband did not like my music. I understand, of course, that not everyone loves her, but to be so :-)