“After classes I didn’t want to go home, so Lebedev sat for a long time in the wardrobe, which resembled a forest that had flown over in late autumn - transparent, blowing in the damp chilly wind, completely naked. But in the morning everything was completely different here, and you couldn’t see the chrome hangers, bent under the weight of jackets, drape coats and sheepskin coats. This hulking kingdom loomed menacingly, militantly breathed mothballs, pressed down and was about to collapse, only to immediately flood the tiled floor and banquettes with sneakers and ski boots scattered under them...”