Moscow metro. Just over an hour left until midnight. Completely exhausted, after a hard day, you go downstairs and enter the carriage. The doors collide with a roar. The train slowly floats away into the darkness of the tunnel... And suddenly an annoying howl comes from somewhere below, an incomprehensible force grabs you by the shoulders, pushes you in the chest, knocks you off your feet. And you frantically cling to the shiny metal handrails, polished by many hands of the same poor fellows. Everything around is shaking, roaring, people are falling on top of each other. Endless black snakes curl behind the windows, and from time to time mysterious lights flash for a moment, blinding you. But now the howling and shaking weaken. The movement slows down. The darkness and ominous flashes outside the windows are replaced by an even, welcoming light. You sigh with relief and straighten your shoulders. You have a minute of respite before the indifferent mechanical voice again utters those fateful words: “Caution, the doors are closing. Next station...” “Ovchinnikov knows how to play up everyday life so cleverly that every time, behind the mask of gray everyday life, an amazing something peeks through, which, it turns out, has been nearby all this time. Oleg himself as an author can be humorous, thoughtful, lyrical, aggressive, sometimes sad, even gloomy, but never cruel or evil. And his heroes are somewhat similar to him: they will simply live and work, and you will watch them in surprise and from time to time exclaim: “No, really!..”” (Dmitry Skiryuk, science fiction writer) “Ovchinnikov is one of those rare authors who do not allow themselves to compromise. Pleasing the crowd is the lot of clay-mixers, but the Writer has only one task: to spit in the face of Eternity. And Ovchinnikov succeeded - as always - with relish, masterfully, sincerely" (Evgeniy Proshkin, science fiction writer)