“It was night, the night of a foreign country, when the country itself was not visible, only phosphorescent signs floating like shapeless fireflies from the darkness, hidden in it, in the darkness, not luminous by themselves, lit up only by the reflected light of the headlights. A gray-haired woman was driving a small car. The young man was smoking in the back seat. He was very tired, he even felt a little nauseous from fatigue, but he still did not deny himself a cigarette, after all, it was a different country.”