Full to the point of disgrace, heavy, as if pregnant, the moon floated out from behind the clouds, and looked around the surroundings dazedly. The surroundings did not surprise her in any way: the same snow, the same thin woods and rare black blots of fir trees, the same haze of the night city in the distance. I looked around, thought and wanted to hide again, but I got caught up in something strange. At the height of the night, in a frost of forty degrees, when even the foxes are quietly sleeping and do not show their noses from their holes, when the freezing trees groan and sigh - a man wandered through the icy wasteland.